Living with the guilt that I am the only thing standing between my husband and fatherhood....

Guilt and grief.

Those were the two topics covered at length in my multiple therapy sessions after I was diagnosed with depression caused by my infertility.

Ambiguous grief is a deep and complicated topic that I will eventually dive into, but given recent events (another failed treatment), I'm going to cover guilt today.

My husband is an amazing man. For whatever reason, he continues to hold his position by my side through sickness, health, and all the bullshit in between. We have our differences, as described in previous posts, but I like to think that our understanding of one another is what allows our marriage to continue. That being said, the stress of trying to conceive is like no other and the guilt associated with the struggle can be overwhelming.

Over a decade ago, just before meeting Bryan, I left a pretty serious relationship and was avoiding the potential of any others. I had decided that I was only ever getting involved with a man who I planned to marry and had the ability to be an amazing father. Five years later, I married that man. We were two years into our struggle at that point, but still had hope that it was just taking a little longer for us. Part of me will always wonder that if Bryan could have predicted my infertility when we met, would he have stuck around? Would he have gone looking for someone with a better knack for procreation? We'll never know, but right now he swears that he just wants me and anything more than that is bonus (see... I told you he was amazing).

That doesn't keep me from wanting to scream bloody murder and put my fist through every single wall of our house after failing to conceive with our second IUI. It doesn't keep me from bursting into random sobbing fits in public. It doesn't keep me from trying to drain every bottle of wine in my cupboard completely dry. It doesn't keep me from wanting to tell him I'm leaving so that he can find someone capable of performing the most basic, primal, singular purpose of human existence - procreation.

Knowing that I am the only thing standing between my husband and his ability to father children is a crippling burden that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Watching him interact with children so naturally, seeing how much he loves his niece and nephew, and knowing that his heart aches as much as mine for a son or daughter makes it impossible to feel anything other than agonizing guilt. Every time I flip out over some menial thing or ride his ass about the most ridiculous annoyance, I feel like a psycho because I'm just projecting my anger and frustration from infertility onto him, which isn't fair. It's just one more thing he has to work through thanks to me, which adds to the issue.

I would love to think that I am enough and that we can happily live the DINK (double income, no kids) life, but as long as there is a possibility that one day our unexplained infertility will give us a break and allow a pregnancy, we will always struggle. Time isn't on our side and we don't have another six years to hang out in limbo. If there was some way to know whether or not kids are in our future, things might be easier. Unfortunately we don't have that option.

Luckily we are surrounded by incredibly supportive people who remind me that we are more than our struggle. Infertility isn't what defines me. I have no control over our situation and I need to stay grateful for my husband and the life we have built together, regardless of whether we are Mr & Mrs or Mom & Dad.