A dear friend here on blogosphere is having a particularly bad IF day today. I'm sure we can all relate.
It got me to thinking about Halloween. A day full of family. Families dressing up together, trick-or-treating together... and no where for the IF couple to hide. Unlike other family events that we can avoid, Halloween is very in your face about its child-orientation. Unless you want to be a hermit all day and night, and lock yourself up in a dark house, you are going to have to see dozens, maybe hundreds, of happy young children... and mommies and daddies.
This year was not so bad for me personally. But last year? Worse than Thanksgiving and Christmas combined. I was at the end of my 2WW, and VERY hopeful. I spent the evening handing out candy with DH at the town firehouse (he is a volunteer firefighter). All evening long, I smiled and greeted happy, adorable little children, some of whom were students of mine, and when no one was looking?... I'd sneak in a little tummy rub to let MY adorable little child know I was thinking of him/her. As I watched daddies carrying babies dressed up like pumpkins on their shoulders, I pictured DH doing that same thing in 2 years time.
Then I came home. Went to the bathroom. And there she was. One of the only times I have started so late at night. I was so enraged, hurt, frustrated, devastated, desparate... all I could think to do was to take my anger out on something. I started banging on the walls (until I heard the sound of breaking glass... I had broken the Papal Blessing hanging on the other side of the wall), and then slunk into a ball in the corner of the shower to hyperventilate. No, I exaggerate not.
That was one of my lowest moments ever. The night I broke the Pope. And here I am, a year later. A year wiser? That's debatable. But a year more seasoned? Certainly. I rarely have those kinds of breakdowns anymore. Ugly cries, yes, but losing all control, no. I would have to say that Year 1 of IF was the most desperate and frustrating (full of "why me," and "how could this be"), Year 2 was the most heartwrenching and depressing, and Year 3? Thus far it has been something altogether different. Not sure exactly how to describe it; it's as if I have learned to give over the control, but in doing so, gained some of it back. Like I have resigned to the fact that I do not have the final word in when and how and if I will get pg... but along with that resignation has come a determination to do everything that IS within my power to do, therefore giving me a bit more control than I've ever really had in the past.
Now it is officially All Saints' Day. And so I leave you all with a prayer to all of the Saints, for peace in our hearts, love in our lives, and a fulfillment of God's awesome will. May God bless us all.