Infertility feels like the dread of a bad break up. The one where you've been in the relationship a long time but suddenly you know it's over and you have to end it. The months and weeks before hand, before the actual split, the dread that comes with the long seconds, minutes, hours and days. The "try and not think about it" that comes from your best friends and the "one day you're gonna smile again, etc" that everyone says to you that knows it's coming.
You still wake up the next day with that dread and I-just-have-to-make-it-through-this-day mentality even if you only think about it for an hour collective the entire day, it's still there.
That "thing." That "thing," that "feeling" just sits and chews at your heart and gnaws at your throat. And never goes away.
And "in the waiting" and not knowing if you'll ever be a mom. Am I with the right Reproductive Endocrinologist? Is He the one that is going to get me pregnant? Are the cards in my favor finally? But living with this day after day and getting older day after day and years of medicine that makes you feel bad, and the wonder of is it even worth it...
And once you actually get the courage to break up and do it - months and years down the road, it'll just be part of your story and you'll most likely be glad it ended because everything is now finally how it should be.
And the years and trials of infertility. Once they lay that bloody crying little seven pound of perfect heaven on your naked chest in your trance of "did I just do this?" and when you look over at your husband with tears in his eyes and he nods that you did. All that pain, all that hurt, all those days, months and years of dread becomes just part of your story because in the end you wouldn't have it any other way, and life is finally how it should be.