“Don’t lose hope!”
That’s probably the most-heard statement I receive when I talk about infertility. Fuck hope.
Do you know what happens when you have hope?
Hope is growing excitement.
Hope is “maybe, maybe, maybe this month it’ll work.”
Hope is questioning of every twitch and twinge.
Hope is the assurance that “THIS IS THE MONTH.”
Hope is cruising the baby aisles for the perfect crib.
Hope is daydreaming of a round belly.
Hope is ignoring the pre-period acne.
Hope is peeing on a stick, and deeming it “too early.”
Hope is waking up gripping your abdomen because the cramps are extreme.
Hope is stumbling in the bathroom, already knowing what you’ll see, but praying you’re wrong.
Hope is seeing bright red blood and crashing back down to reality.
Hope is rollercoaster that only goes in circles.
So FUCK hope.
You know what happens when you give up on hope?
It’s a steady walk.
It’s never having false expectations.
It’s never having to crash again.
It’s still not fun… It’s never easy not having what you want. But when you come to expect the worst, you don’t have to experience the crash.
Somehow, against all odds, Hope still clings to me like a dirty smell.
Against everything that I want, I still have hope.
Hope is exhausting.