Trying Again (And Again)

UNFILTERED MUSING 08

I had to leave yoga class the other day because I couldn’t stop crying.
It was like my body was physically releasing the sadness I’ve been holding in.

My wife and I are in the middle of our IUI journey, and we just got our third negative pregnancy result.

It’s such a deeply personal, emotional process, and not a lot of people talk about it.

And to be honest, not a lot of people know how to respond either.
But that’s okay. Sometimes, I don’t even know how to be.

It’s exhausting to keep trying to be hopeful…only to feel crushed a few weeks later.
Hope can be heavy.

I’ve been scrolling Pinterest more than usual lately.
I love interior design, and I’ve been saving random baking recipes. But now, the algorithm seems to know what we’re going through. I’ll get pins like, “How I Got Pregnant After One Try.”

And while I’m genuinely happy for the people who do get pregnant quickly. What I really want to do is flip off my phone and yell a big F U.

Because it feels like it’s just clickbait. It’s not made with care for the people who are actually searching for this kind of content. Women who are struggling with getting pregnant.

Each round of IUI has been different. I was sure I was pregnant on the second try. But then I saw spotting, and I just knew.

In round one and round three, we were told the numbers were “a little low”, followed by the tone of “better luck next time.” And while we’ve had mostly amazing doctors… the last one completely forgot about bedside manner. Which doesn’t go over well when you're injecting hormones and carrying the weight of possibility.

But if there’s one thing that’s been consistent across all three rounds, it’s the mental spiral. The mind f***.

One day, you think you might be pregnant.
Next, you feel something that reminds you of your period.
So you check.
You’re fine.
And then maybe you start to get a little hopeful again…
Maybe this is actually an early pregnancy symptom?

But then your period comes. And just like that, hope shatters again.

Normally, I’m a multi-passionate girlie. I love being creative in a dozen different directions.
But in this season, I’ve paused or quit so many things.

I have so much compassion for women who go through long-term infertility, or who have received heartbreaking news that they’ll never be able to carry. Even the fact that we get to keep trying…I know that’s a privilege.

Writing has become the only way I know how to process this. Because honestly? Talking about it out loud feels… draining. There are days I just want to sit on my back porch and not see a single person.

I’ve noticed I look at babies more now. Before, I’d see a baby and think, “aww, so cute,” and go on with my day.

Now I stare. Not in a creepy way. Just… in a longing way.

I was on a flight recently, and a toddler was sitting on their mother’s lap across the aisle.
We made eye contact for a while. And all I could think was that I don’t want to make silly faces anymore.

I just want that. I want a baby to sit on our lap. One that we get to call ours.

I’ve always believed that deep love is intertwined with deep sadness.
Because when you love something so much, it opens you up to feel everything.

What’s wild is how you can grieve something that hasn’t even fully existed yet. But the grief is real.

If you know someone going through IUI or IVF, please let them come to you when they’re ready to talk about it. Don’t press. Even if your intentions are good.

Because even asking “any news?” can throw off the fragile equilibrium they may have worked so hard to find.

Be extra gentle with them.
Keep in mind that they’re feeling the symptoms of PMS for months.
Mood swings, exhaustion, anxiety.
All of it.

And if you’re reading this and you’re in this same boat…
HOLY CRAP, HOW HARD IS THIS SEASON?!

You can be the most optimistic person in the world and still feel knocked flat.

I’m not here to say “stay strong” or “it’ll happen.”
I’m not trying to turn your frown upside down.

I’m here to:

MAKE
THE
SPACE
FOR
YOU
TO
FEEL
SEEN.

Because no matter how many other people are going through this, it doesn’t take your pain away.

It’s like someone telling you how many M&Ms are in a bag without a prize.
Cool. Doesn’t make me feel any better.

What’s helping me right now is just… feeling it. Letting the emotions hit.
Letting my people, my little horseshoe of support (not a circle, because I never know who’ll step into my life and change it), know when I need space.

Let people love you.
Let them show up.

And allow yourself to let go of what needs to be let go.
Pause what can be paused.
Cry when you need to cry.
Walk out of a yoga class when it’s too much.

IT IS OKAY.
IT IS NEEDED.

More than anything, I hope this gives you permission to feel it all.
Because maybe, just maybe, after feeling it, peace will come.

Like calm after a storm.
Even if we don’t get the rainbow…maybe we can still find peace.

Of course, I hope for the rainbow.
A positive test. A healthy pregnancy.
A baby in our arms.

But right now?
I’m just trying to find peace in the in-between.

And that has to be enough.

xxx, J