Where's the Light?

Where’s the light at the end of the tunnel? It’s a very common saying when someone is going through a rough time. It’s also used as flippantly as when someone is exercising and they can’t wait to stop. I’m still looking for my light. The “light” symbolizes that a bad/uncomfortable situation is about to get better...that you are almost through it. I see no signs of that light.


I feel like I’m actually going backwards in my healing process. Pregnant bellies make my eyes well up with tears like never before. It affects me so profoundly sometimes that I forget, just for a second or two, where I’m going or what I was in the middle of saying or thinking.

There are the normal, everyday reminders of IF that we all face...babies, children, families, pregnant bellies etc. And then there are the reminders that some us that have step-children face – the field trips we don’t get to go on because the “real” mom gets first choice and of course she wants to go, having to call the child your “step” child when in public...things like that. It really hurts sometimes. No, it hurts all the time.

I’ve figured out why I can’t stay motivated to eat less and work out more. I really want to lose some weight and some inches and just be more physically healthy. However, I can’t seem to stay on track for more than a week, if that. The answer hit me the other day. I’m angry at my body and even though I know we are supposed to be good to our bodies, I don’t want to be. I’m angry because my body has let me down. My body has not been good to ME (in the reproductive sense) so why should I be good to IT? I know it might sound strange, but that epiphany struck a chord with me. I’m a healthy adult. I have had blood work done and I’m very healthy. The only issue is my underactive thyroid, something I don’t have much control over without medication, which I take every day. I rarely drink, have never done drugs or smoked so over all I think I’ve been pretty good to my bodily health. I’m not over weight, at least I don’t think I am. I’m 5’2” and weigh about 132. I would like to lose about 10 pounds and a couple of inches to feel better about my image, though. I’ve lost my will power to say “no” to certain things. Back in late 2004, early 2005 I lost 35 pounds and I felt great. I’ve gained almost 25 of those pounds back, mostly over the last 2 years. Are we seeing a connection? I started fertility treatments in early 2009...hmmmm....seems to all add up doesn’t it?

I wish I knew how to get out of this funk. I wish I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, I feel lost in the tunnel. I lean up against the kitchen counter and look down at my non-pregnant belly and it’s like a slap in the face. I think to myself, “I should be 25 weeks pregnant and I should not be able to lean up against this counter like this”. It’s torture to say the least. I think that’s why the pregnant bellies bother me so much now...because I should be there. It’s not a longing like it was before I saw those 2 lines. It’s more of a feeling of loss now. I lost my chance to have that big belly when my body failed me by giving me bad eggs. My body failed me by letting my baby go. Why should I do anything nice for my body?

I know there is no answer for what I’m going through except to give myself more time. I just wish I knew when it would get better. The smallest things bring me to tears anymore. Things like the new show Up All Night. The first (or maybe second) episode had the mom coming home from work after the baby was in bed. At the end of the show the mom is talking to her daughter and promised her that if she weren’t there at bed time that she’d always be there when she woke up. It was a simple thing, but it made me cry. I’ll never have that sort of “conversation” with my child. I can’t read sappy new mom blog posts without my eyes welling up. I’m posting comments through tears because I want to feel as grateful as the new mom says she is. I want to feel the power of the mother/child bond like they write about. But it’s just not meant to be for me. I don’t know why and I’ve pretty much stopped asking. It doesn’t much matter why because I can’t change it. Not worrying about why doesn’t stop me from hurting or longing or being angry about it, though. It just adds to the darkness of this tunnel I’m living in. I’m actively searching for the light because I know it has to be there...somewhere...right?