How do I feel about DOR/POF? (For the post with the facts and back story, see here)
In no particular order -
-I'm not sure how to feel. Somebody tell me what I'm supposed to feel.
-Broken. My ovaries don't work properly. They are supposed to work properly. At least till age 35, or 38, or 40, or 45, or whatever is the trendy number. I'm walking around with broken things in me. I can feel the sharp, poky edges of the broken things. At least I imagine I can. But no one can even tell.
-Stupid. Was I supposed to know that my ovaries would start to shut down? Was I supposed to have done something differently in my life?
-Confused and discouraged. Every time we think we've got infertility figured out, and form a plan for moving forward, we find out something that changes the game.
-Grateful. That I can find out information. That I have people to turn to. That there are medical professionals that can possibly help me and Mr. Turtle to have a child. Somehow. Although it seems to get more complicated all the time. I think I've finally stopped imagining natural conception and a baby in my life - even secretly.
-Shocked and surprised. I didn't expect this. Even when I considered it, even when I restrained myself from gloating over my perceived fertility, even when I wondered what the tests might show, I still didn't expect POF.
-Whatever emotion is the opposite of shocked and surprised. Fatalistic? I look for and find patterns in my thoughts, experiences and imaginings that create a pattern where POF fits. Haven't I wondered about conceiving with donor gametes and concluded I would be OK with it? Haven't I wondered about adoption and decided that I could do it because I'm sure I would be able to bond with an adopted baby, or even older child? After all I know so-and-so who adopted, I read this blog, etc. That must mean I "knew" that we would have to walk this road. From one point of view I know this is silly. I imagined a natural conception and babies and family far more often than I tried to imagine anything different, at least until recently.
But still I find myself thinking on my life experiences and trying to pull messages from them, some of which are heartening and some of which are not. For example, I broke my foot two and half weeks before our wedding. Everything went ahead as scheduled though; I think the only thing we modified was I had some help to climb the steps. I got married and went on a honeymoon with cast and crutches. People would say how sorry they were for me, but I didn't and don't want anyone feeling sorry for me because I wasn't sorry for myself. The truth is I had an amazing day and amazing holiday, and I have no regrets whatsoever. Didn't I learn then that the greatest joy and happiness are always within reach, even when things are broken? Perhaps, when things are broken, they are even closer.
-And then my feelings circle back back to one of the other points and repeat over and over.
We keep going forward, because really, where else is there to go?
And we will find a path in all of this. Somehow.