Last night I had a minor meltdown of sorts. We had sent off our paperwork to the spermbank, and J was feeling quite hopeful and excited. In fact, she’s been getting really excited that we’re nearing the end of our break. I had to tell her that I was having a hard time getting there. The last year and a half have worn me down so much, and I’m frankly a bit scared to jump back in, spend a bunch of money, get our hopes up, and be disappointed time and time again.
Of course, she was disappointed to find out how negative I was feeling about it all. I’ve gone to some ugly places in my mind lately, and one ought not share those ugly places with one’s hopeful partner. Such sharing has a way of squashing one’s partner’s enthusiasm. I felt like shit about that. I still do.
So today I’m trying to turn myself around. I heard back from our midwife, and we’re arranging pre-IUI meeting with her in the coming weeks. This is good. Perhaps once we meet with her, I’ll feel more hopeful.
Yet, there’s this big part of me that says, “Yeah, right.” I want to be excited for my break to be over. I want to be eager to start this again. And I see all of your lovely comments about how excited you are for us, and I stare at them wondering how this can possibly be exciting anymore. I wonder how we could possibly ever be one of those couples who sees a second line on a pregnancy test or has to think about where their birth will take place.
But I have to find a way to get back to a place where I can at least look forward to this, even if the “h” word isn’t attainable just yet.