A while back in the IF blog world, there was a discussion about "hitting the wall" with infertility*, about reaching the point where you suddenly feel that the obstacles you're up against are too much, that you just can't push through life as an infertile person any longer. At the time, I could not yet really imagine ever hitting the wall. If there was a wall in my future, it seemed so far away as to blend into the horizon. All I could think about was the next pregnancy attempt, the new treatment plan, what would make things work next month.
Now, I think that while there may be one dramatic moment when you realize you're up against an insurmountable wall, the wall itself does not appear all at once. It's not an obstacle that you slam into unexpectedly, smacked breathless with loss. No, I think the wall is built brick by brick. Getting my period last month, maybe didn't deserve the degree of sympathy you lovely people sent my way. That wasn't a wall slamming down in front of me. It was just one more brick being set in the mortar. Still I felt really anxious and sad, the way listening to The Wall makes you feel. So I thank everyone who came to sing along with me.
I feel the wall rising slowly, defining the boudaries of my garden. At first, when I saw those bricks being laid down, they seemed more like the start of a walkway than a wall. I thought, early on, that the delays in our family plans were just that, pauses that would ultimately make my path more sure. Like many an "ambivalent infertile," I started this process scared out of my wits about what motherhood would mean for my life, and my sense of self. If a few delays served to give me time to find my way, then I was ready to follow the yellow brick road.
Now, after nearly two and a half years of this, with my 33rd birthday coming up soon, that yellow walkway has definitely been built up into a red brick wall. It's still not insurmountable. In places it's only just waist high. I can still hop up and sit down on it, dangle my legs over it, and imagine jumping down from that perch to a future where the biological children we hope to have are wandering dreamily through a field. But it gets harder day by day to hoist myself up.
The other night, I dreamt that a friend had written me a letter, enclosing some old photos of my husband and me. And the friend said, "Look how happy you two were a few years ago when these photos were taken. That's who you're supposed to be. Those are the people who want to be parents. Isn't it time to stop all this struggle to bear biological children and start living family life? I really think you should adopt." In the dream, I was not entirely sure this friend was right, but it felt good to have someone offer the option. In real life, my parents are vocally opposed to the idea of adoption. And I have one friend who has actually lectured me about not being "selfish" and "impatient" and giving up to soon. (I know, I know, I should send the Barren Bitch Brigade** to beat her up.) My husband is open to adoption in theory, but says he's far from feeling ready to take that step. He's a quite a bit taller than I am; I guess he's not yet finding it hard to hop on top of the wall.
Of course my dream family originally involved biological children. I'm an utterly ordinary person and I expected to become a mother in the ordinary way. My wish was not so much to reproduce myself, as to witness the strange alchemy by which my husband and I could blend together to form a new being. We've been a couple for nearly half our lives now: a long time to imagine that magical twining, love made flesh. Still, I think that what I want more than anything is the small things, to read books, run baths, run errands, play tag. I want to meet my husband’s eyes across the dinner table as we laugh at something our child said or did. And I don't think DNA enters much into that.
So have I "hit the wall?" I don't think so. Not yet. Still the education of this Infertile continues, brick by brick.
*Thanks to the wonders of Google and the fact that the ever-fabulous Julie has kept her entire archives intact, you can still read that discussion:
http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/2004/08/the_wall.html
**The phrase "BBB" was created by Get Up Grrl, back in the day when the very best IF stuff was being written.
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14 comments:
Sorry Folks, I have been getting some random spam (that's what's deleted above). So I've activated the word verification feature...Sorry for the extra step. I looove your comments!
What a great post. I have also been noticing "the wall" and mine is growing ever higher. As an optimist though, I also see new paths made, paths that circumvent this wall. I am in a good place right now. I mostly just observe the wall, knowing that I may scale it or chip away at it until I make my way through or I may choose to take an alternate path around.
I have not posted on your blog before. I mostly just lurk. Love your blog. Keep up the good work.
I have found that so much of what we experience with infertility happens in increments. That suddenly you look at where you are and just wonder how you ever got there. Like you said, all those tiny steps and setbacks add up.
This is a great entry. I'm glad you're posting.
Well said, Anne. I can relate to everything you wrote. I hope we both soon can find our way to that field where our children are wandering dreamily, regardless of whether we get there by scaling the wall or by taking a path around it.
I don't yet have a wall. I'm at the stage when I want to throw everything at this problem. Doesn't mean I'm not scared sometimes, but I don't see any other way. Perhaps in a way the wall is an element of freeing yourself from all this stress of trying so so hard at something which is so un-amenable to trying...
Beautifully put, Anne. My own wall is currently growing day by day- doesn't help that it feels like E. is out there laying the bricks for me at the moment.
Anne,
I came to your blog because I really wanted to say thank you for the comment you left on Mare's blog: the idea that we need to make sure we survive foremost is something I know I should remember.
And then I read your most recent entry and found it so eloquent and dead-on. I think my wall is as high as yours. Maybe if we team up we can hoist and pull each other over.
It's quite a funny and awkward scenario isn't it? The lady who does me has soft giant boobs, and they press up against my leg when she's angling the wand.
Glad your lady liked what she saw.
Beautiful post. Absolutely beautiful.
I'm sitting here looking at my wall, metaphorically of course, and wondering if I should take up pole vaulting or if I should buy a jackhammer and start obliterating it from below.
Hi Anne, Just found your blog and it could not have happened on a better day. I love your wall analogy, and think you have a beaufitul writing style. I keep bumping my knees on my wall, though most days I am in denial that there is even a wall there. Thank you for giving me something to ponder.
I just found your blog today, and have no idea of what you have been through. (I promise to read your archives, though.) But I was really struck by the beauty of your post. The comment about the glance across dinner table made me well up. It is true on every level.
I wish for you thousands of dinners filed with the laughter of your children (however they come) and the exchange of knowing glances and smiles.
Vivian
Hi all, thank you thank you for these comments. I feel compelled to point out that I am not at all the originator of the phrase "BBB." I'm not altogether sure who was, actually. But I believe it was Grrl, or Julie, or Karen (Naked Ovary) or one of these women back in the day... Anyway, the BBB has been around for quite a while, but new recruits are always welcome!
Back after some research (googling BBB). It seems clear that Grrl originated the phrase. She of all people would *hate* to have the phrase stolen. (Supposedly this is why we are not allowed to have her archives, which I miss so so badly and wish lola and everyone else who never read her briliant writing could have the singular pleasure of reading it.) So I will be revising my post to reflect her authorship.
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