I just need to write all this down and get it out in the open.
Infertility is the loneliest place in the world. Life is moving but I’m standing still, still in this horrible nightmare. Pausing life, just waiting, hoping.
And It’s the hope that kills you, the hope that this will be your cycle, but it never is. The grief, the letting go of what you thought your life would be like, the anger you feel at yourself for not being able to do something so fundamentally basic.
I don’t know how many more times I can do this.