Wide Awake

I went back to my kickboxing class on Monday night.  I hadn't been back in at least two months,  since before my IVF cycle.  When I put on my workout pants, I was nervous that they wouldn't fit me anymore, but they still fit me perfectly.  Although I'm always happy to not gain weight, it reminded me how I no longer have any physical reminder of enlarged ovaries or my brief pregnancy.  It felt so bittersweet to put those pants on and go through the workout routine again because I had hoped I wouldn't be able to go back to that class for a long time. 

There was a song playing while I was kicking and punching away that I had heard dozens of times during my class, but it somehow stuck with me this time.  I'm ashamed to admit that it's a Katy Perry song, called "Wide Awake."  The song repeats over and over again, "I'm wide awake."  And that's exactly how I felt that night.  I feel like I'm not the same person I was the last time I attended that class.  I know so many things that I wish I didn't. 

I had been told that having a miscarriage would cause grief, but I didn't realize the extent of it.  I've been through grief before and it's bringing me back to the overwhelming sadness and exhaustion that I felt before. I'm able to function at work and if you were to see me on a regular basis, I might act like I normally do.  In fact, I've been told by many people I seem to be doing well.  I think I'm in the stage of grief that manifests itself as depression.  I can hold it together when I need to, but I cry a lot more often when I'm alone and I get so tired after putting my happy face on for awhile.  When I lost my cousin five years ago, I distinctly remember telling his sister that I felt like joy was gone.  And that's exactly how I feel now.  I know that joy will come back,  but it feels elusive.  

And the funny thing about this stage of grief is that I can't pinpoint the source of my pain.  It feels like the tears are coming from some well deep inside of me.  I don't know if it's the miscarriage or infertility or some combination of the two.  All I know is that I feel sad a lot. 

I wasn't planning on telling you all of this, but since I started my infertility journey, I've wanted to be open.  It seems like infertility and miscarriage are usually hidden and private and can even feel shameful.  I don't think that it needs to be that way so I will do what I can to share with you my experience. I keep thinking about the quote, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  I know that I'm not the only one going through something difficult right now and my experience is a good reminder to me that I probably see people every day that are hiding their pain behind a smile.

Although I realize that what I'm going through might be perfectly normal, I intend to start counseling soon.  I want to go into my next IVF cycle in a better emotional state than I'm in right now.  I know that this post has been rather bleak, but I really do believe that things will get better.  Five years ago, I thought I had lost joy completely, but  it did come back.  But it didn't come back right away and I had to go to counseling then too.  

I think I say this every time, but I really am grateful to you all for reading my ramblings and for being patient with me.  I feel as though I've been a little withdrawn lately, but I'm trying to push myself to spend time with friends and family and to live life as normally as possible.  I need to continue to have fun to get myself out of this funk.  And if you see me privately in the next few months, don't be afraid to ask about IVF or my miscarriage.  I think about both all the time and talking about my experiences helps me process it.