Wow, look at that forest

You know the saying, "Can't see the forest for the trees?" In my life, I tend to personify this.  I get so obsessed with the details that I forget the big picture. 

With IF, most days, I'm intensely focused on this cycle or this wait to ovulate or this 2WW or this birth control pill.  I can't think of the big picture.  I can't see how long it's been or where we're going next or what will our lives be like if it never happens for us.  I know that, chronologically speaking, we've been trying for nearly 2 1/2 years.  But, if you asked me how long it feels, most days I'd say at the most a year has gone by.  Infertility has made me so introspective that I truly haven't noticed what else is going on outside of my head or body.

And, usually, that lack of a "big picture" is a good thing with IF.  Because, every so often, infertility whaps me upside the head and I look up.  I don't know what triggers it -- a rash of BFPs?  A sudden realization that, of our original "longtimers club" there are only about three of us left who aren't currently pregnant or have babies?  (I feel bad even writing that because I am happy for you guys, but sad for those of us still left behind.) A series of messages from my mother about her pregnant niece-in-law and her 2-year-old and taking them out because "she's due next week and needs a break"?

(Oh, and the niece-in-law had the baby yesterday and I've gotten multiple e-mails from the father with pictures and bris announcements (no name, yet, as they're waiting for the bris, so I'm sure I'll get more e-mails then) sent to every single person in the father's address book.  Kind of obnoxious if you ask me.  I can't imagine that everyone I've ever communicated with in my life and work needs to know the moment I give birth to ***cue angels singing*** a son.  (They didn't send out all these messages when their daughter was born two years ago. I mean, obviously not the bris...)  Isn't that what they make FB for?  I've decided to pretend that my spam filter wouldn't let me see a message sent to 254 people.  (Seriously 254 people.)  Oh, and also?  My pregdar is right on target -- I guessed that the niece-in-law was 7 or 8 months pregnant when I saw her in December when my mother hadn't told me she was pregnant.  I'm sure I'll be getting more "oohs and ahhs" about it all from my mother soon.  Yippee.)

(But, I digress...)

(I have a cold, my brain isn't working in a particularly linear manner right now...)

(Yeah, what's my excuse when I'm not sick?)

(Where was I?  Oh, yeah, missing the forest.)

Suddenly, I look up.  I look back over what I've written for the past year or so.  I look back at conversations we had on iVillage.  I become overwhelmingly jealous of my friends who have moved on.  I think about all of the events that have happened since we started trying.  I think about all the things I've missed because I've been so focused on my insides.  I think about all the people whose friendships I've let wane.  I think about all the rude things I've said and thought over the past few years and the person I've become who seems to no longer be able to care for the feelings of those around her and can only feel genuinely happy for people who she knows have struggled to get where they are and not those who (at least seem to) have gotten there easily.

I look beyond finishing this pack of BCP and think about how many tries we have left in us.  I think about the "FUTURE" -- what will my life be like if we never have kids?  What will fill my time?  Who will I be?  I realize that we really have been at this for a while -- I've lost perspective thinking this hasn't taken so long for us when I look at couples who have been trying so much longer. I realize that, at 36, I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be by now.

I don't know where I'm going with this. It's just that these past few days it's all felt a little overwhelming.  The forest is frickin' dark and scary and HUGE.  When I think of a future where we have no kids, I just feel empty and blank.  I can't see what that future is.  Not that I know what my future looks like with kids, really.  But, I can at least guess. Without kids?  I don't know.  I just can't see my life being *this* forever.  I need something more.  I don't know what, but it can't just be going to work and coming home and going to work and coming home ad nauseum. 

Anyway, it's time to refocus on the trees.  Sometimes it's not a bad thing to lose sight of the forest for a while.  One step at a time.  Just two weeks or so and we're back on the ART train.  I need to get in touch with my RE and figure out if he wants any more tests before then.  I want to have some time to pre-order my meds.  I need to think about the details for a while and not think about what happens if it doesn't work this time.  What happens if I make it to the end of the year I've given myself for this to work.  I can't think about that right now.

If you need me, I'll be hiding behind that tree over there.