Our Infertility Journey

A Poem about The Bad Days of Infertility

I sit on the couch alone drinking a bottle of wine; Wondering why I feel this way, when yesterday I felt fine.

No one will be able to console me, so I want to be alone; I won’t answer your text messages or bother to check my phone.

I don’t want to feel angry or sad or desperate or depressed; i don’t want to sit on the couch all day not caring to even get dressed.

I don’t want to stay home from the party because I know that children will be there, and i won’t be able to keep myself from thinking ‘where are mine?’ And ‘life’s not fair.’

I don’t want you to ask me questions and pretend you understand, or have you to tell me to “just relax” and to “Just trust in God’s master plan.”

I don’t want to hear the story of that person that you know who went through what I’m going through however many years ago.

I don’t want to decline your baby shower because I’m angry at the world, or not celebrate the photos you post of your beautiful baby girl.

Tomorrow I may wake up with a positive outlook on life, and revel again in my story as happily married wife.

But Today And tonight I will take the time That i need to grieve and mourn the children of mine that I was hoping to bare that may never have a chance to be born.

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