How Can You Possibly be Prepared?

I've become a guest blogger on fertilityauthority.com, and my most recent post was about The Shock Factor. That feeling of complete shock after something unexpected or unfathomable happens somewhere during the ever complicated journey to parenthood.  There has been more than one occasion where I've felt my stomach drop to my feet and my heart pump so hard I could hear the thuds in my temples. There have been several bumps along the way where I just could not believe a result or outcome. There have been days when I felt so emotionally sick, I actually threw up. That's the Shock Factor. 

It's really hard to prepare for the unexpected (or even the expected) on IF Island. It's really hard to tell yourself to prepare for the worst but to also be hopeful. It seems almost impossible not to be excited when you get a batch of good looking eggs or when you finally get that BFP, and feels unfair to have to tell yourself not to be too excited because bad news could be creeping just around the corner.

Bad news does lurk around every corner on IF Island. Sometimes it feels like zombies and monsters are ready to jump out at you just when you think you are in the clear. And they often do. Sometimes they don't. So how can you possibly prepare for the zombies and monsters? How can you live on IF Island without always having to be on the defensive? How can you put one foot in front of the other, casually glance around without extreme paranoia, and keep moving forward with optimism? 

I don't know if I really know the answer. I just take really...long...slow...steps, and force myself to smile when I casually glance around. Maybe my mouth can tell my nervous system that everything is okay. It is a very delicate emotional balance that comes with being cautiously optimistic. I know there are few certainties in life. I know that I more than deserve to have something work in my favor to help us create a family. And I know that trying not to look back or look ahead is all I can really do.

In each moment I have an opportunity to breathe. I help myself to feel grounded in my feet and in my core and I try and take a split second to feel centered when I get bashed in the face with something disappointing and terrible. If I can remember to, I'll eat a piece of toast and have a cup of tea, just to soothe my body for a moment. Maybe I will take a hot shower or close my eyes in the sunshine, just to give my senses a little calm. When the emotional upheaval feels like a total tsunami, getting into my physical body and creating some comforts around me sometimes helps.

There is no way to really prepare for the emotional impact of bad news on IF Island. And it really sucks to feel totally blindsided. If we know the risks and realities, that might help. But I think it is absolutely legitimate and necessary to feel happy when we get good news. We just have to remember to appreciate and experience each moment for what it is. 

Sending a lot of strength to anyone out there who has just gotten punched in the face with bad news. The heartache won't feel as intense forever.

Comments

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Thank you all! The IF community is truly a group of amazingly strong and determined and empathic people! I'm honored to be stranded on this island with you all! Hoping our life raft comes soon...until then, thanks and lots of love.

[Eve]

I totally agree with Camryn and I look forward to reading more. Your humanity and gracious spirit are so inspiring. Thank you for sharing your story with us. It helps. Truly.

[Davy @ The Sea of TTC]

Cautiously optimistic is good. I find that hope involves risk, but is part of IF. By hoping, we set ourselves up for potential pain. It would be even harder to continue testing and treatment without also hoping for a positive outcome. You're right, it's a delicate balance.

[Camryn]

I shared this entry with my husband and we both agree…it's terrific. You put into words a very tricky, painful dimension to infertility. We were not prepared for the shock factor. No one tells you how often you'll be sucker-punched with bad news, no news, blank news. And occasionally good news...that you don't know how to digest and celebrate, because it can so quickly dissolve into a bitter pill of bad news (as it did for me last week). Moving forward is the hardest thing, as you write, trying to maintain optimism and hopefulness, with the ever-present fear of "shocking" news lurking in the shadows. I'm learning a lot from you, Maya...from your blog and your experiences, which is helping me to stay GROUNDED. Stay in the now. Not the past, where the grief lay. Not the future…with all its unknowns. Just now. I love the way you captured this scary part of the journey. You have a way with words, Maya. A true master at work here, distilling the range of damn emotions we feel here on the lonely island. Thank you…thank you!