I have had some inquiries as to what took me so long to get my butt to the RE. After four, almost five, years trying to conceive, I am significantly behind many of the other IF ladies I associate with. Most women hit that 12 month mark and start setting up testing, and generally by the two year mark are starting treatments. Often earlier.

I would like to say it was denial causing me to drag my feet, but I know that is not true. I have known of my fertility problems since the age of 17.

I would like to say that I just wasn’t in a hurry and was the Queen of Calm when it came to my issues. Of course anyone who really knows me, would know that would be the lie of the century.

I could say it was money, which is partially true. We are by no means sitting on a pile of cash or anything, but we are doing far better than a few years ago.

 

The truth is, while there are some other smaller factors involved, the main issue was Fear. Now I know everyone who goes through infertility is fearful, and for good reason. But the Fear I felt was crippling. An emotional turmoil so immeasurable, that I had no ability to even try to handle it. I am weak. People mistake the weakness for strength. They talk of how strong I must be to put off treatment, and ask how I manage not going crazy with the waiting. It was not strength keeping me going, but cowardice.

 

When I hit that two year mark of trying and still had not ovulated, I nearly lost it. Everything I had read conflicted. After a 12 year long eating disorder, most of the research said it would take a couple years for my body to get comfortable enough for my cycles to return. So I waited. Then came the studies showing a link between Anorexia, Bulimia and Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I didn’t know what that was, so then came more reading. I soon came to the conclusion that I obviously had PCOS, seeing as I had nearly every symptom. But then I was stuck between two points. I was a recovered ED person and a PCOSer? For one thing I had to eat more, and for the other I was supposed to eat less? I obviously already had food issues so this was very frustrating. All the literature addresses classic PCOS and says to lose weight. I was not overweight and fell into the category of thin cyster. This is the category no one knows what to do with.

 

I was so overwrought with confusion and anger over all this that I had what I can safely say was a year long meltdown. I could barely even think of infertility without putting myself in a funk that lasted days, sometimes longer. It didn’t help that it looked as though I had caused all this to happen. *All in the pursuit of perfection.* It was around this time that I discovered the online world. I had never had internet at home before that year and had never even heard of a forum or blog. I found a whole new universe. Communities of other IF women from all over.

I went through these women’s journeys with them. I cried when they cried. And when they lost it and had their meltdowns, I was scared. When going though fertility treatment, there is so much to lose and so much to gain. People lose it a lot. It turns normal, mentally stable women into raving basket cases. If this is what treatment reduced these strong women to, then what would it do to me? I was already halfway off the deep end with no water wings.

 

My Fear made me wait. And it saved me. It has been three more years since that time. I have my PCOS diagnosis. I have my knowledge. I have my experience. During that waiting time my body found the comfort it needed to start cycling. They are long, but there. I am in a different place and am a different person than I was then. As far as infertility is concerned, I am much closer to that calm, collected person people think me to be. I am ready now. I feel I finally have the emotional strength and stability to face ARTs. It was difficult to force myself to wait, but I think it was the best thing to do. I am so very thankful that I was in the right mind to make that decision.

 

The hardest part about my dark place and the fear, was the negativity. It was like being thrown into a hole the sun could never reach. I saw no end in sight. I saw no way it could get better. I was inconsolable. No one could say the right thing. There was no right thing. I had no ability to see past my own sorrow. My negativity was my enemy and my friend. More than a friend. A lover perhaps. I needed her. My negativity. I needed to be in that dark place. It was bereavement. Grief.

It was also a time where I needed to heal and prepare myself for the future and other hardships it brings in regards to IF.

The negativity very slowly faded. She is still there, occasionally hissing in my ear, but no longer squeezing my soul.I got through it and am here to tell about it. And if you look closely, the scars aren’t too bad either.

 

I see a lot of women in that dark place. Engulfed in their negativity and sorrow, letting it slowly kill them. I want to tell them it will be ok, and if they are patient, they too will come out on the other side. I want them to know that the sun does find that hole. Eventually. Everyone’s timetable is different, but they will survive and live to tell about it. And maybe if they are like I was, they should wait for it before they start ARTs.

I will never tell them this. Those women at the beginning. It would be insensitive. They need to be in their negative dark place and find their own way out. Any way I could try to explain would sound trite.

I recently read a post on a pregnant after infertility board. Some of the women were talking about the negativity on the TTC-IF boards. They spoke of how they too were negative then and wished they would have handled themselves differently. I don’t think think they could have. I think everyone needs that dark place for a while.

We shouldn’t regret how we mourned in the past. Hopefully it gives us more understanding and patience for those still angry in their grief.

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