Recently, life seems to enjoy running me over with an 18 wheeler. Not terribly sure why, but it seems as though each time I turn around, I get bitch slapped by life. Oddly enough, these events are not entirely mine. Although they are affecting my friends and family and sometimes myself.
You may agree that with everything we've been through over the past 3.5 years, I have every right to be sad. You may understand that I could be depressed. You'd probably agree I've earned my right to hide under the covers on any given occasion.
But I've always attempted to remain positive. I try. And try. And try again. I do my best to never give up. (But when I do, Hubby is right there cheering me on.) Husband's are good like that. We talk about everything.
I am now at the point that I am beginning to feel like a burden. Not just on him, but on friends and family as well. This past weekend for example, I had my third anxiety attack of my life. Right there, in front of my friends, in the middle of our girls night. I could feel it coming on. I knew for a solid 20 mins that I would have to deal with this nagging quivering that was creeping up inside of me.
And then all of a sudden, there it was.
The lack of breath that causes hyperventilating.
The tingling in my head from the shortness of breath.
The sobbing.
The irrational feeling that I couldn't deal with any more problems.
For most, infertility is a silent battle. We tend to fight it alone as a couple. Being public about this struggle, as helpful as it has been, can also inhibit. Personally, I am at the point that as much as I want to be supportive of those struggling as well, I believe I'm at my tipping point.
Therefore, this is an apology.
Not to anyone in particular.
But to everyone.
I apologize if you speak to me, and I seem distant.
I apologize if I'm not attentive to your concerns.
Please know I love you and care for you.
Please be patient with me as I attempt to heal myself and find my happy place.
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