Saturday, June 21, 2014

How do you put the glass down?

I read a quick photo caption on Facebook about how heavy a glass was perceived to be when you hold it. The longer you hold it, the heavier it becomes. Hold it a minute, it's not heavy at all. Hold it an hour, your arm starts to get sore. Hold it a day, your arm becomes numb and you are paralyzed from doing anything else. The concept was then related to the thoughts that we hold onto.

How long have I been holding onto my infertility glass? To be honest, I haven't put it down since before we saw the RE. The obsession started in October 2012. We were still TTC on our own, but it was the first time I realized that we had been trying for over six months, and I was obsessed.

I was crushed when I got my period (again) and realized that our cycle did not work. The previous cycles weren't as hard to brush off. "Next time," I said, "That just wasn't our baby." Then I 'decided' that John and I could use a TTC break. I tried to put the glass down.

The problem was, I couldn't forget about it for long. It was like I put the glass down, but I was still attached. Maybe I was walking around and put some distance between the glass and myself, but there was a string that held us together. The 'break' wasn't much of a break, because I agonized over when I ovulated and still kept track of my cycle. And when I got my period I was crushed again. That time did not help that it was in the midst of Hurricane Sandy, we were displaced from our home due to power outages, and it was the period from hell.

Now here I am, a year and a half later... almost two years... will be two years by the time we can have hope again for a cycle... The glass is still in my hand, my arm is a dangling appendage, nearly rotted off my body by now. I am trying to put it down, but I am still bound. This time the string has evolved into a chain with barbed wire. And the distance has shortened so severely that there may only be an inch between us. I can put it down, but I can't walk away. I am a prisoner to my glass.

So how do you escape? I am going for a run. Thank god for marathon training. It is one of the few things in my life that brings genuine relief. I wish I could constantly be in running mode. I wish I could run so long and hard that my ovaries would become numb.


This is not the end of me,
This is the beginning.


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you, Say <3 Love to you too! I hope you're doing well. Getting close!!

  2. I'm so sorry. There's nothing to say to make it better. Thinking of you and praying for you!

  3. I am really am so sorry. Sending you lots of love and big creepy internet hugs. Oh, and I am working on that marathon dance. You will have to let me know when it is and I will message you a video of the dance or something fun. :)

    1. Thanks for the love, TTU. And on the topic of the marathon dance, soooo awesome!!! Race day is September 7th and I'm enjoying the training immensely!