Knock, Knock.


Who’s there?

I’m not a religious person, and for that I’m glad. My infertility, dX, and TX would have been enough to make me lose my faith. I’ve seen it happen to people, and that just creates yet another trauma to go through. But at least those women have a target for their anger, at least for a little while. They have a god to blame, to question why, to bargain with.

Who could I hate? Myself.

And I did.

Somehow, this was my fault.

It was the Clomid.

It was a skipped prenatal vitamin.

It was inherited from me because I have undiagnosed spina bifida occulta.

I have MTHFR.

My showers were too hot.

I had a virus.

I’m not meant to have a baby.

All my fault.

I know that it isn’t true, but even now, there are days when the doubt returns.

A few years ago, I found a blog written by a couple who, after struggling with infertility, gave birth to a baby boy with severe disabilities. They found strength in God, and at point, one of the parents mused about how sad it must be for people without faith to go through a situation like this alone and without God. That little comment meant nothing to me the first time I read it, but when I read it again a few weeks ago, it chaffed a little.

Alone? Now more than ever, I don’t feel alone. I have friends and family who have carried me through this. I have counselors who have training and experience with my situation and look out for my best interest. I have found friends in places that I never would have looked before. I am not going through this alone.

I may not have the faith in God that some of my friends have, but I do have faith. So at the end of the day, who’s there?

Me and my husband.


3 thoughts on “Knock, Knock.

  1. I’m going through the same as you. For this resin I’m not going to say I’m sorry, but look into my heart because the words I feel for you I am unable to express.

    I’m pretty new to this blogging thing, but please feel free to follow me as we might just be able to comfort each other during this terrible darkness

  2. Your post brings tears to my eyes. I have had all the same thoughts. Were my showers too hot? Was it the extra gummy vitamin or two? Do I have a virus – and why won’t they encourage more testing? I want to know what was wrong. My heart goes out to you. My D&E was last Thursday (02/07) and I’m seeing a psychologist, a grief counselor, and a psychiatrist. The best so far is valium for sleep and the book Silent Sorrow. I’m not a fan of self-help books but this book gets it. Please give it a read. xoxo

    • I saw that you were posting on the TMFR forum at Baby Center. I found that just knowing that I’m not alone helps. I have tons of support, but there is still that part of my that resists their sympathy because they can’t empathize. I know it’s not fair of me, and it’s gotten better, but it’s just the way it is.

      I’ve avoid the pregnancy loss books because I’m tired of pretending I had a miscarriage. Does Silent Sorrow address TFMR, or does it just help with grieving the loss?

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