the Slippery Slope

This post has been in my head for at least 5 days now. It's called the slippery slope because I realized, oh about 5 days ago, that that's exactly what I was on. The slippery slope of hope. Well, I reached the end of the hope slope last night and got an unpleasant slap of reality, which burst my bubble and allowed the tears of disappointment and anger to flow. And because I'm way too analytical, I've broken it all down. Here's the problem:

I didn't come to New Zealand as a fix-it to our infertility problems. I came here to run away from them all. Really, I had hoped they wouldn't follow us here. I was content to leave them in Utah. But there are loving people back home who, bless their well-intentioned hearts, still hope for us and I let them plant little hope seeds in my heart. These people are much stronger than me and put on the happy 'everything will be okay' face for me when I can't. Well, I don't want their hope. (That's not true. Yes, I'm bitter. But mostly I realize that it's my choice to react that way so I'm disappointed in my reaction.) Their hope hurts on an extra 'we have expectations' level.

So, it never crossed my mind that New Zealand could be an elixir until I started clinging to that hope. "Hey, maybe all you need is a new start there to get pregnant." "Hey, maybe there will be something in the water there." "Hey, maybe that 30 day cruise you're taking will be the magic ticket." or "Hey, maybe the island life is the solution." So I dared to hope.

And here's the second and REAL part of the problem: I got carried away in my hope. I started reading into signs way too much. My bloated, uncomfortable stomach? Surely I'm pregnant. My extremely swollen and tender breasts? That's another sign, right? Oh, and this book I just read said that this is another symptom. Got it. And this podcast said this and this article said that. And man, I swear I just feel different. I MUST be pregnant. Yep. I recognized I was on that slippery slope where I had convinced myself I was pregnant, as I had done so many times before. But deep down, in the back of my head and I guess in my heart, I just knew it couldn't be. But I heard my personal cheerleaders telling me that New Zealand would fix it, so I clung to that hope. I even told Jon about it, which sometimes is even worse cause I like to protect others if I can by just keeping things inside (but I'm discovering it's much easier to go through it together).

So my monthly reality check came and I cried. And swore. I cursed those people who dared hope. I cursed myself for clinging too fiercely to that hope. I tasted the bitter disappointment of my tears and wondered why I allowed myself to hope so deeply. Hadn't I learned?!?! After 6 years of the same old thing, why haven't I learned?!? And does the hope ever go away, or is it just a cycle? Cause I really thought I had put it behind me and was over it, content in my life and happy without children for the moment. How did this all happen again?!?!

As Jon and I processed it together and shared some of our most tender and vulnerable thoughts and feelings, I came to the realization that I just can't give up hope yet. Not when I've been promised it. I'm just not there yet. But I have learned that this doesn't need to lead me into a state of deep depression again. I can face it and process it better. I can rebound quicker and continue to focus on the gratitude I feel for where we are in life and what we have been blessed with. I can be grateful for our wonderful family and friends who continue to hope for us when it's so hard to do it ourselves. It's not easy, but I guess it's easier.

I really thought that mimicking this statue in would bring us

blessing from the Tahitian fertility Gods. No??