Sprung Out

I'm not sprung out, but maybe I am strung out.

Spring is dicey for those of us experiencing infertility.  On the one hand, it's lovely outside.  You can sit outside and not even notice it, only the fresh smell on your clothes when you come back inside.  You can eat outside, and your food tastes even better.  Cherry blossoms, tulips and spring grass add much needed color to the out of doors.

And then there's the downside.  I don't have to tell you about that.

So, I won't.

But it's getting me down.  Really down.

Each year, spring does this, the dichotomy.  This year, it's different because we've used the last of our embryos, and we're not planning to try to have a biological child anymore.  The money tree is gone (like we had one).  I am so down about not being able to have a biological child, I can hardly stand to be in my own skin.  The discontentment is palpable.  It keeps me awake at night.  It holds me down in bed in the morning, and it rakes away my joy beyond that of just a few minutes.

I know, I shouldn't let it do that.

And I'm trying not to allow it to do so, but my grief is just massive.  At this time of year, with new life surrounding us outside, not to mention in many uteri, I am down, people.  So down.

I love y'all and I want to say thank you for reading this.  I need to know you're out there, and it really helps that you are.