Life is Quiet...A Day in the Life of an Infertile

Sometimes it just helps to talk about it...

I wake up peacefully on my own. No alarm, just the early morning light and my body’s internal clock telling me to get up. Life is quiet. What would it be like to be awoken by a sweet baby’s cry? Or maybe an excited toddler bouncing on my bed in footie jammies and messy pigtails saying “I wan’t chocolate milk and pancakes Mommy!” Instead, there is silence.

I roll over put my glasses on and check my phone. I look at updates from Instagram, Facebook and Pinterest, the same thing every morning. I 'like' my friends posts that make me smile. I wish that I had an adorable picture of my kids sitting at the table with milk mustaches to post. I don't.

I get up, open my curtains and make my bed. I get dressed and put my pjs in the hamper. I walk down the hall and glance into the spare room where I always hoped a crib would be, and inside it, a chubby little bundle with a sleepy little face and a gummy smile waiting for me to pick her up. Instead a queen sized bed sits there, untouched, and the room looks exactly the same as it did last night when I went to bed. Further down the hall is the office with a desk and sewing table. No twin beds with giggly kids. No clothes on the floor, no books and no toys laying around. It’s the same as the spare room. Clean, orderly and empty.

I go into the bathroom and I wash my face, put in my contacts and brush my teeth. I have to smile a little when I look at my mirror. It’s water spotted. My niece and nephew were here last night and every time they leave my house my bathroom mirror is water spotted from them washing their hands. I wipe down the mirror and counters, clean the toilet and sweep the floor. Now the bathroom matches the rest of the house. No signs of a child here. No water spots. No toothpaste in the sink. No rubber duckies in the bathtub. Nothing. Just clean.

I grab my laundry hamper and put a load of laundry in the washer, 5 shirts, 5 pairs of panties a bra and a pair of shorts. I stay on top of my laundry so it really doesn't pile up. I don’t have mountain of laundry on my couch, with Disney princess shirts and dresses falling every which way. I don’t find bugs, sticks and who knows what all inside the pockets of little grass stained jeans before I put them into wash. I don’t get the frustration of matching 50 pairs of socks. And folding clothes, I actually enjoy doing that. My house work is minimal.

Next is breakfast and it’s is over as fast as it begins. A bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Done. I unload the dishwasher and then put my one dirty spoon and one dirty bowl into the dishwasher. I spray my counters down and look out my window at the neighbors in front of me. She’s already outside chasing around her 3 little boys in the front yard. Their ages are 1, 2 & 3. One is on a trike wearing a cape and riding as fast as his little legs will pedal. One is running around in his superman jammies with a water gun. And the baby is toddling around in the grass with a bottle trying to keep up with his brothers. I can’t help but smile. Her life is full of busy boys with endless energy. My life is quiet. I finish cleaning up the kitchen, and put the clothes into the dryer.

I sit down in my recliner, read up on a few blogs and then turn on Netflix. After an episode or two of Grey’s Anatomy, my current Netflix binge, I get the clothes from the dryer, fold them and put them away. What would it be like to have a little rosy-cheeked kid to help me fold laundry and then accidentally drop it and scatter it on the floor on the way to the dresser? I think of when I was little and would sit on parents kitchen table and “help” my mom fold washcloths, I loved helping her. I grab a microfiber cloth and furniture polish and dust my bedroom, spare room, office, my hall, living room, kitchen and dining room. It takes me about 15 minutes. 

Before I make my lunch I go outside and turn on the flood irrigation to water my backyard. I can almost hear giggling kids running through knee-high water, splashing and playing. I make myself a sandwich, and put pretzels, fruit and a multivitamin on my plate. I sit down in my living room in front of the tv and watch another episode of Grey’s and eat my lunch. Afterwords, I put my one dirty fork, one dirty knife and one dirty plate in the dishwasher. I wonder what it would be like to be wiping off dirty faces and cleaning peanut butter and jelly from the table, chairs and floors. And I’m sure there would be a few orange fingers to clean too after I catch them sneaking into the bag of Cheetos again. But the kitchen is clean and the table is clean.

I go back outside and turn off the irrigation water and then I pull a few weeds on the way back to the house. I look at my cute little flower garden and imagine sweet little hands picking flowers and handing them to me. I would put them in a vase and display them proudly. A rose, tulip or dandelion, it would’t matter to me, as long as it's given with love it will be received with love.

It's a beautiful day so I decide to go on a walk. I love the fresh air and quiet path that runs behind my subdivision. Just me and the sunshine, the ducks on the stream. I enjoy the peaceful time to myself and smile at the mom who jogs by me with a double stroller and a dog. Seriously, there isn't hardly a time I'm not reminded that I'm childless. I make my way back to my house with sunshine on my shoulders and a thankful heart, being infertile isn't the worst thing in the world. At times its harder to accept, but today I have peace.

I go inside and start prepping for dinner. I put potatoes in the oven, chicken in some marinade and start chopping vegetables for a salad. I need to go to the store to pick up some french bread. I get in my car and go. No kids to round up, no diaper bags to pack, no carseats to buckle. It's just me and my wallet and I'm out the door.

While at the store I see kids running circles around their mom. A kid begging his mom for a doughnut. A baby girl screaming in her car seat while her mom is quickly trying to make a bottle. Then I saw the cutest little boy sitting in the cart swinging his legs and singing to his mom, it was so sweet.

Kids and babies are everywhere, and once again I am reminded of how quiet my life really is. I could go all day if I wanted to and not hear a single word. No music, no tv, no phone, nothing. But I wouldn't choose that because that just seems depressing. 

I am back home with the bread 10 minutes later. I sweep my already clean floors, and finish dinner. My husband comes home from work and we sit down at the table and eat dinner. We talk about our day and then I clean up the kitchen and dishes. I didn’t have to say “you have to eat 4 more bites,” or “you have to try it, just take one bite,” or “come here, sit down, and finish your peas,” or “if you just take one more bite, I’ll let you have some ice-cream later.” No bargaining, no threatening, nothing. I put dirty two plates, two dirty forks, two dirty knives, two dirty drinking glasses, two dirty bowls and two dirty baking dishes in the dishwasher and run it. I wipe down the counters, take out the trash and then sit down in, you guessed it, my recliner in front of the tv.

My husband and I watch Netflix, and look at our phones. I check my social media and blogs again. I shower, wash my hair, dry the shower out when I’m done and put my dirty clothes in the hamper. I walk back down the hall towards the living room and look into the guest bathroom where I thought I’d bathe and dress my children. It has a huge counter and lots of storage, perfect for changing babies and storing all those baby related items. Instead it’s filled with makeup, towels, hair products, and Costco size bags of extra toilet paper. I go through the house and turn off all the lights and lock the doors and dry my hair.

I go back into our bedroom and pick up my husbands dirty clothes, put them in the hamper and wipe the shower down again after his shower. No matter how hard I try there’s just some things that he wont do! I guess he’s my giant man child haha! I brush my teeth, take out my contacts, put on my moisturizer and climb into bed. A quick smooch from my hubby and he’s snoring before his head hits the pillow.

I say my prayers and thank God for my health, my family and my blessings. I try not to dwell on the fact that I didn’t get wrestle wiggling kids into footie jammies. That I didn’t get to tuck them into their cute little beds and hear their sweet prayers. That I didn't get to read them a bedtime story and kiss them goodnight. That I didn’t get to rock a sweet baby to sleep. That I didn’t get to lay her down in her crib and look at what a miracle my husband and I made. Instead, I lay my head down on my pillow, feel a hot tear run down my cheek, and then I fall asleep and I dream of a life that isn't so quiet.

I am happy and content 99% of the time. I love the life that God has made for my husband and I. But there is that 1% that sneaks up on me and leaves me sad. Usually it's this time of year, when the kids are going back to school and the holidays are right around the corner. Pictures of excited little faces seem to flood my newsfeed. And it's easier to imagine my life if I had children, what they'd look like, how old they'd be and where they'd be in school. Thankfully these thoughts don't spring up and occupy my mind all the time. They used to and that was torture. I was a miserable person. I’ll say it again, I am so thankful for peace!

I’m not going to pretend that it doesn't hurt when I hear someone complain about their children or an unwanted pregnancy. Tears still sting my eyes when I hold a brand new sweet baby all swaddled up. My heart still aches at the thoughts that I won’t have any children of my own and that I won’t have grand children to love and spoil. I feel like a failure that I won't be able to give my parents little grand babies to love and spoil, they won't ever be able to know what it's like to be called grandma and grandpa. My life is so quiet and probably always will be.

I am lucky enough to be a stay-at-home-wife. My husband goes to work and I stay home. I have so much time to myself. So much time to think. Time to thank God for his blessings and my friends that I confide in. Time to pray for peace, contentment and for his will to be done. I am at peace with not having children. I have accepted that it’s just not meant to be. God must have other things for me to do, other things than being a mom. I am genuinely happy, and I am so grateful.

It has been almost 11 years since my husband and I began our life as husband and wife. We started our TTC journey as soon as we were married. We knew what we wanted and that was to be parents. It just wasn't meant to be. I still occasionally get my hopes up and I think that's normal. Miracles happen everyday, and I am not about to forget that!

I still feel like I’m 18, there’s no way I’m really pushing 30 right? Nothing big, or significant has happened. Nothing marks time for me. I know I’m aging the gray hairs and little lines on my face tell me so, but why don’t I feel any different? It could be that I do the same things day in and day out. I worked away from home for 7 years of our marriage so things used to be a little different. My house was a little messier. We ate out for dinner way more often and I was definitely more tired. But really everything feels the same. 

If you take anything away from this, let it be this. Please don’t take your children for granted. There are so many people who would love to get the chance to have a baby and be parents. People who would spend thousands of dollars just trying to conceive. It comes so easily for some, and others try and try and nothing happens.

Please be kind to people who are struggling with infertility. Questions like “When are you ever going to have children?” "How long have you been married? Wow you should have a litter by now!" or comments like “You know you’re not getting any younger!" "You're so lucky you don't have kids, It must be nice to do whatever you want." hurt, really hurt. We may smile, or laugh and seem fine, but it hurts. What you don't realize is the millions of tears and prayers that have been pouring from us, begging God and whoever might listen, for a chance. That "nice life" we have at times feels empty and so incomplete. The anger, the sadness, the bitterness, the isolation, the hope, the disappointment, the mind games you play with yourself, are devastating. There are so many emotions, it would make your head spin. So until you’ve lived it, you’ll never really understand. It's not a club I would ever want anyone to have to join. Just love us and pray for us.