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a blog by CGD, June 14, 2011
Sunday June 5, 2005, a hot and humid day. I am an anxious bride waiting to walk down the aisle to be joined with my soon-to-be husband.
Sunday June 5, 2011, a cool and breezy day. I am a tired wife sitting on my couch after a long day spent with my husband.
Today, I have been married for six years. I think back to my wedding and remember it feeling so hopeful. I am not sure I ever had a clear picture of what I thought my life with my husband was going to look like, but like any bride, I felt happy, filled with optimism and love, ready to start my new life with my husband. Now, six years later, I feel a little lost, a lot less optimistic and very unsure what happened to my happily ever after.
Our sixth wedding anniversary is the fifth we have celebrated since we have been trying to conceive. I feel sick when I think of the amount of my marriage that has been consumed with this infertility business. I have vivid memories of making toasts on our second anniversary to our family to be, convinced that by the next year we would be celebrating with ournew born baby or at minimum with a pregnant belly. We did not do that this year. My husband made a lovely toast, but babies or children were not mentioned. I think eventually you just stop saying stuff like that. After all, how many times can you possibly talk about your future babies, who never seem to arrive, before you just kind of stop?
I often wonder if my husband would have married me if he knew that I was infertile. I actually have asked him this question several times. He has never answered. It’s an unfair question; no smart man would actually answer that. But deep down I think I know. I by no means want to imply that he is thinking of leaving me over my infertility. I know he has no intention of doing that, but he is a man who wants children and also a man who is not so comfortable with other options like donor egg and adoption (I feel differently). Had he known before we got married that this would be something he would have to consider, I wonder what he would have done.
A friend of mine once asked me how I could not have discussed these things with my husband before we got married. Maybe we should have? How was I supposed to know what was headed our way? My wedding was a week before my 30th birthday — infertility was the last thing on my mind. That smiling happy bride that looks back at me in all of my wedding pictures has no idea what is waiting for her. I hate that this is a thought I even have to entertain. I am jealous that fertile couples never have to wonder about stuff like this, they have no idea how lucky they truly are.
Truth be told, I was dreading yet another anniversary without a baby or a pregnancy. But, like most things, the anticipation is always worse, and we ended up having a nice weekend together. Last night, we went out to dinner at the restaurant where we celebrated following our engagement, and today we went out for brunch followed by massages. I forced myself not to talk about infertility or babies. It was harder to do than I thought it would be, but it felt important to have some time like that. It was nice and made me realize how much I enjoy being with my husband without our constant companion of infertility for a change.
While I still wish for things to be another way for us, I am trying hard to enjoy the things I do have — an adorable husband who loves me despite my infertility and sometimes snarky attitude and does silly things to be make me laugh because he knows I am sad too much of the time. I am trying to remember that I am a lucky girl, even though it does not always feel like it. I am trying to accept that together, my husband and I are a family, even if this does not always feel like enough. I am trying. But, I have to admit that this trying stuff is a lot harder than it looks ...