Bubbling Over

During the last few days of that ill-fated last cycle, I kept having huge anxiety attacks.  While not paralyzing, they were crippling.  They always started slowly, with a slight catch in my breath.  As time progressed, I began to feel a weight slowly but surely pushing down on my chest.  That pressure would get so unbearable that even deep breathing wouldn't relieve it.  I would feel as if I was suffocating.  Nothing released me from this grip until it would get so bad, I could literally feel the grief and nerves bubble over.  Into the form of tears.

I'm a cry-er.  I cry at movies, I cry when friends cry, and I cry at my own grief.  I cry when I get super mad or super silly.  I don't think this weakens me; if anything, it makes me more authentic.  And during this last cycle, not many friends in real life knew what was going on...well, a few did, but most of our family did not. And those who did know, well, are probably sick of it.  We've done this so often before with no luck, at some point, my friends are going to stop caring about our infertility.   So I spent much of the time ignoring what we were doing until it was time to race to an appointment  or get stuck with another needle.  Holding it all in is not a good thing for me, but I discovered how therapeautic crying can be.  As soon as I let free the floodwaters, immediately, the weight was lifted from my chest.  I realize this is not a news flash.  For me, as a mom, though, I hold things in to protect my son from our infertility.  No need to traumatize him with a grief he can't understand about a potential sibling he has never asked for. 

I'm glad that the bubbling over has stopped, for the most part. I'm doing okay with everything.  Life goes on, right?  I have three jobs to work, a child to care for, a house to clean, food to cook, laundry to do, etc.  Life is busy and moves forward even when we want to just stop and indulge in the grief. 

Comments

[Heidi]

My counselor has been talking about this - how the body will speak even when we try to keep it quiet. A good cry is so helpful sometimes! (((hugs)))

[Rachael]

I have been amazed at how much I can actually cry since dealing with infertility. Seemingly small things on a perfectly happy day can propel me into a few minutes of gut wrenching sobs. It comes quickly and without warning. I have stopped holding it in when I am somewhere safe to let it fly. It just helps get some of the grief out so I can try to keep moving. Sending you warm thoughts.

[Shayne]

I identify with you, in that I'm a cry-er too. I used to look at it as a huge detriment, like it was evidence that I couldn't handle whatever emotions I was feeling at the time. Now, I see it more as evidence that I'm living in the moment, feeling deeply whatever is going on at the time.
Thinking of you guys.

[Stacey]

Hey friend. Just want to tell you how sorry I am. I'm sorry about the last cycle, and sorry about the negative result and the grief that follows. I wish it had turned out differently. I really do. I hate infertility. I hate it for everyone, but especially for sweet people like you.

Thinking of you.