Crippled by a broken heart

Usually, I keep this blog light-hearted and positive.  I think that pretty much sums up who I am as a person.  I keep a very positive outlook.  I find negativity a major turn off.  Besides, why be negative when you get a better outcome staying positive?  For the most part, I have a pretty amazing life and there isn't much negativity to add anyway.

With all of that being said, sometimes I don't write what I want to write because I want to keep it to myself or don't want to bring the blog down.  By nature, I'm a very private person.  I'm sure most of you are aware of that.  Today's topic is keeping it real, so prepare for some downess.

For those of you, which is most of you, who don't know, I have a condition that makes fertility a little challenging for Aaron and I.  Yesterday, I found out that the fourth round of a fertility medication did not work, which means we are off to a fertility clinic next.  My doctor has tried everything that she can do for us. 

Needless to say, yesterday was not a good day for me.  Yesterday, I learned you can't die from a broken heart, not the break up broken heart or the disappointment break heart or even the "I didn't get my way" broken heart, but the mourning, as in death, broken heart.  The kind that feels like you've been punched in the stomach and that you are slowly drowning in sorrow.  You can see the surface to break free, but you have no idea how to get to it.  It's the same kind I've felt with great loss, like when my grandmother or dad died.  The kind where you can be laughing and happy and something reminds you and you are instantly crying and sucked back under the surface.  I'm such an ugly crier too. 

The point of this post isn't to invoke sympathy or for you to feel sorry for me.  I don't want to talk about it at this point.  I CANNOT talk about it at this point.  It's still a fresh wound, even though we've known for years. The burden of knowing it's my fault is crippling.  I just needed to get it out of my head and off of my shoulders for a moment. 

I'm waiting on a phone call from my doctor to know what are next step is going to be.  I know the road in front of us may be long and it's going to be very expensive.  In true Renee-form, I know it will work out for us in the end, but for the next few days, where that ending seems like an eternity away, I will be wallowing in self-pity and ugly crying it all out.  I need to feel sorry for myself for the time being.  I also know that self-pity is very unbecoming, so I promise it won't last very long.  Woe-is-me is so not me. Right now, it just hurts like hell.

All I ask of you, my friends, is to keep us in your thoughts and send some uplifting vibes our way.  Also, if you can add in a prayer for us not to have our own TLC show, if we have to do IVF, that would be nice too.  See, I can still keep some of my sense of humor, but seriously still pray that doesn't happen.  That is just as frightening as having no kids at all.  Also, in the moments where everything is overwhelming and your kids make you mad, count your blessings and hug those irritating kids and be thankful that you have them.  There are so many people out there that would love to be parents, but can't be for one reason or another.

In the next few days, if you don't hear from me, I'll be picking up the pieces of my little heart and putting it back together again.  I'll also be looking for my life lesson in all of this.  I haven't quite figured it out, but when things don't go your way, there is always something to learn from it and I will figure it out and be a ray sunshine again.  I think knowing that is half of the healing process, so I'm halfway there in just a day.