I suppose we all have them. Those "long lasting issues" that haunt us. Mine is rearing up in a huge way right now. I've known since I was about 9 years old that I'd probably never get pregnant, and if I did, the chance of ever carrying to term was zero on a stellar day.
I got pregnant when I was 20, and had a beautiful baby boy just after turning 21. It was my only chance. It could never happen again- shouldn't have happened then. After a series of events into which I will not go, I gave him up for adoption. I lost more than my child that day (a pain so deep there aren't words in the American language to even BEGIN to describe).... I also lost hope.
I had 3 miscarriages after that. One of them, I carried the baby, dead inside me, for 4 weeks waiting for the doctor appointment for the DNC. It is an unspeakable horror. When the doctor looks at you and tells you, "There is no heartbeat, the baby's dead," something falls apart inside you.
I would give anything to have another child, but so many doctors have told me it's virtually impossible. And each time my period comes late (and it happens a lot), I spend the days agonizing, hoping against the simple reality of what I know... can I hope for another miracle? The answer, of course, is always "No." Yet, each time, I find myself hoping... the irritability is hope! I think I felt nauseous! My breasts hurt! It COULD be this time!
And, inevitably, the blood flows, cleansing me of hope as it cleanses me of uterine lining. And each time, I find myself weeping because I miss something that wasn't even there. I find myself staring at the blood and hating being a woman. Hating the false hope of an unstable cycle.
And today, on the 37th day since my last period, and still having not had one... I find myself doing it to myself all over again. Just like I did in January. Telling myself that my emotional state is a sign. My sore breasts are a sign (again this month). Telling myself that feeling weak and dizzy is a sign (again this month). And begging myself to stop, to accept the truth that it can never happen.
I feel my period wavering, trying to come. But I still do this to myself. The lying, the false hope. The tears and the pleading. And I know that even if I am pregnant, all that will mean is months of false hope before it all comes pouring out in a great painful gout of blood.
And naturally, everyone around me is pregnant that can be, it seems like. 3 girls in the office (not counting the one that gave birth 2 months ago). People on forums I go to. At the mall. I am happy for them. And I envy them.
My grandmother called the "womanly flow" the "Curse." When I was 18, I went to the doctor and told him, "I haven't gotten the Curse yet," and he said, "You haven't gotten your period??" I responded, "Well of course I have, I just haven't gotten the curse yet!" How wrong I was. Oh yes, my grandmother called it the curse...
At last, I understand why.
Thanks for letting me vent.