I’m a Sagittarius.
You probably didn’t know that about me, unless you and I are acquainted in real life.
Then again, maybe you could tell…
We fire signs tend to have a bit of an obvious personality. 😉
So, being a Sagittarius, I have a nauseatingly optimistic outlook on life. I also have a wicked sense of humor, and a tendency to put my foot in my mouth.
Affable buffoon, some would say.
I’d tend to agree.
I have to wonder though, if this set of traits it seems I was born with, and that were fostered throughout my upbringing by parents who encouraged my adventurous, if haphazard spirit, can all be undone by a seemingly endless barrage of bad breaks in life.
Some days I don’t feel very sunshine-y.
Some days I have a hard time believing that this will ever get better.
Some days I cannot even imagine what it will be like to get that BFP I want so badly.
Some days I wonder if infertility is altering my spirit completely.
Part of the Sagittarius charm is the ability to adapt to new surroundings and circumstances. I have always found this to be the case in my own life.
I relate easily to others. I find it second nature to put myself in their shoes. I play the Devil’s advocate more than anyone else I know. I make friends, tell jokes, and find my comfortable niche in every new adaptation of my life.
Why then, am I having such a hard time adjusting to this New Normal?
Infertility is a circumstance that has befallen me. I should be able to adjust accordingly.
Somehow though, I just can’t.
Oh sure. I roll with the punches and make light of all the injection-site-and-blood-work-bruises covering my body, and every Cycle Day One, I joke about drinking a bottle of wine and eating my feelings, but the truth is that I am not comfortable in my own skin right now.
Infertility is slowly stealing away the things I love about myself.
Do they come back?
If I get that elusive BFP, will I be happy again?
Will this inner sadness be permanent?
Will these circumstances permanently scar my sunny outlook?
Am I doomed to be a Debbie Downer?
Please say this will pass…
Please tell me this gets better, easier.
Please tell me that a baby will bring back my smile – my real smile, the one that reaches my eyes and has real happiness behind it.
Please tell me what will happen if that BFP never comes… Is this me, forever?
Does it get worse?
Does it start ruining my relationships?
Does it drive away the people that love and support me?
Does it start wreaking havoc on the lives of those around me?
…Do I want to know the answers to these questions?
For now, no.
I don’t want to know.
Maybe by sticking my head in the sand I can avoid having to contemplate a life of depressing desolation.
That in itself is another way that infertility is robbing me of my core personality strengths; I am not the type of person who runs from a problem, rather I prefer to meet it head-on.
Avoidance has been my coping mechanism of choice lately, though, and choosing to dodge thoughts about the future should not come as a surprise.
The truth is that I am terrified.
Terrified that if these treatments don’t work, I will be childless forever.
Terrified that I will be forced to watch those close to me have their third, fourth, fifth children in the time that I’ve been trying for one.
Terrified that this change in me will last forever, and that it will cause those I care for most to turn away from what I have become.
Terrified that I will be alone.
Because that is the one thing a Sagittarius can never be: alone.
Sagittarius is the sign of the Archer.
Half destined for feet planted on Earth, and half aiming for the stars.
Weighed down by infertility, but never letting go of my dreams.
Perhaps my inner Archer is stronger than infertility.
Perhaps I’m stronger than this.
Perhaps I will survive after all.