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What I Know. What I Don’t Know.

I don’t know if I’ll ever have babies.

Let me tell you what I do know:

I know that I’ll never birth a baby.

I know that my husband doesn’t create sperm.

I know that he’s ashamed of it and that makes me ashamed of him. He should advocate for all men out there who suffer silently through infertility, but he won’t, and I won’t “should” on him.

I know that I’ll NEVER do another round of infertility treatments because they make me crazy and hurt like hell.

I’m a wreck while on the drugs and a wreck when they don’t work.

I know I had at least one egg welcome donor sperm into her secret chamber and try to dig into my lining and hold on.

I know that the drugs made my lining extra thin so that her little grippers might as well have been coated in oil.

I know that the first pregnancy test came back MAYBE, as did the second.

I know that the day I went in for the REAL TEST, I started to bleed.

I know that people expect me to move on.

talk about suicide

I know that the only way I will get a child is if I adopt.

I know my husband is worried about adoption.

I know we can’t afford adoption.

I know that I will find a way to do it.

I know that there are days that infertility defines me, and I can’t help but wonder if it is because God is punishing me.

I would give anything to have a child and can’t stand to be around people who suck as parents. Yeah – I’m judgmental of your parenting.

I know I can do it better.