Little Black Spot on the Sun

I admit that I wrote yesterday’s post probably about two weeks ago but have been putting off posting it until now. Mostly it’s because rather than feeling relatively upbeat, like that post was supposed to be … I’ve been rather morose, which has obviously been reflected in the previous two entries I’ve published before then.

Today, I decided to expand a little more on my last post’s musings. And it’s really because of Mel’s latest and greatest post that she published yesterday on the parallels of Infertility and Dating. Mel writes that there’s a similarity between the two in that both situations possess a need that is unfulfilled. And there is certainly a resemblance in trying to find the love of your life and longing for a child love and raise.

As I’ve said before, I’ve been extremely lucky to have found my soul mate earlier in life. I have seen what it was like for my SIL who had struggled to find her true love. She endured so much heartache at a relatively early age, raising her son who was only two at the time of her divorce.

Yes, I saw how hard it was on her and how debilitating it was for her self esteem. And how much she doubted herself. I saw how very lonely and hurt she was, especially as her brother (my Hubby) and I thrived in our relationship as a married couple. But then she slowly started to date again, venturing out to test the waters. Finally, when she was least expecting it, she found her soul mate. After a rough first couple of years of marriage, which included the loss of their son at 4 months of age, they are now expecting their second child in August. And honestly, I couldn’t be happier for them.

Then there’s the infertility end of the spectrum. Finding love early and then not being able to create a life out of that love that Hubby & I have for one another. What kind of cruel joke is that? How painful it is … to know that you have all this love to give each other, but you can’t physically share that love with your own flesh and blood? Every day I struggle with this; knowing that I can provide all this love to a child … any child, in fact. And yet in the same breath, I doubt that I will ever be a good parent. Because if I can’t even create life, how am I supposed to appropriately support and encourage life in a child?

Infertility wreaks habit on anybody’s self-esteem. Much like not being able to find the love of your life. Infertility, for me, is an utterly debilitating pain … and one, on certain days, that I can’t seem to stop. But then I look at Hubby. And I remember the struggles my SIL has gone through. And I realize that I am, once again, fortunate that I have found love.

Do I admit to being jealous that my SIL is now pregnant for the third time? Well … yes. And trust me, I hate that I feel this way. Because I know of all the pain and self-esteem issues she’s suffered to get where she’s at today.

So to go back to Mel’s post about the analogy of infertility and dating … I do think that there are many similarities. Hurt. Doubt. Pain. None of which, when comparing dating with infertility is any more or less than the other.

Because pain is still pain, no matter how big or small the punch in the gut is.

0 Replies to “Little Black Spot on the Sun”

  1. And in both realms, you have no control. You can’t make that wonderful person saunter into your life, and you can’t seem to make that child appear, either. You need so desperately to know what the future holds, and not knowing feels like pure torture.

    One thing I need to say, though this may sound a bit off: Often children don’t make people happy. You can see it on their faces (and I always feel great compassion for the children, who see it , too). They love their children, but they are still miserable. But a good relationship can make you happy, or at least help you weather life’s storms.

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