Infertility is not like failing a class or trying to win a football game. Sometimes your body won't do want your heart, mind, money and doctor are trying to persuade it to do. People who have never been through it, don't realize that apart from the expensive cost of trying to get pregnant, you are putting your own health at risk.
Someone I love very dearly tried to dish a dose of tough love to me over this issue. She didn't realize how much she hurt me and when I tried to explain, she told me I needed to see a psychiatrist. I can't begin to describe how much I cried over the fact that the one person in the world who I thought would always be compassionate towards me, pulled that little card out of the box.
There is nothing wrong with seeing a psychiatrist. However, it all started with talk of adoption. This person slammed adoption saying people she knew ended up with sick kids, who drained them financially. I tried to explain that it's mean to slam the only option that may be available to me at some point. From there, the conversation all spiraled out of control and landed on the "psychiatrist box."
I don't need to see a psychiatrist over my infertility. I won't let anyone try to tell me that something is wrong with me for being sad over it. Hell, people cry over not being able to get the car they want. I think that's a little more ridiculous than crying when your dream of a child is crushed.
That conversation made me realize that maybe I need to see a psychiatrist over my relationship with her. She's my mother and I can't live without her, but for the first time in my life, I don't know how to deal with her. The conversation hurt me that badly. I talk to my mother every single day (no it's not always about infertility and babies) and at this moment, I don't know how to talk to her.
I'm just wondering if the wound is still too fresh or if it will only get worse?
Someone I love very dearly tried to dish a dose of tough love to me over this issue. She didn't realize how much she hurt me and when I tried to explain, she told me I needed to see a psychiatrist. I can't begin to describe how much I cried over the fact that the one person in the world who I thought would always be compassionate towards me, pulled that little card out of the box.
There is nothing wrong with seeing a psychiatrist. However, it all started with talk of adoption. This person slammed adoption saying people she knew ended up with sick kids, who drained them financially. I tried to explain that it's mean to slam the only option that may be available to me at some point. From there, the conversation all spiraled out of control and landed on the "psychiatrist box."
I don't need to see a psychiatrist over my infertility. I won't let anyone try to tell me that something is wrong with me for being sad over it. Hell, people cry over not being able to get the car they want. I think that's a little more ridiculous than crying when your dream of a child is crushed.
That conversation made me realize that maybe I need to see a psychiatrist over my relationship with her. She's my mother and I can't live without her, but for the first time in my life, I don't know how to deal with her. The conversation hurt me that badly. I talk to my mother every single day (no it's not always about infertility and babies) and at this moment, I don't know how to talk to her.
I'm just wondering if the wound is still too fresh or if it will only get worse?
Disney is the place where dreams and wishes come true. I wish that conversation hadn't happened.
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