If that were the case, if we had exhausted every option, then of course you sign the piece of paper and along you go. But we haven't exhausted every option. We haven't done IVF. When I lost the baby that was Michael's first response. We'll try again.
We'll try again is an easy response when you aren't actively involved in taking the drugs that make you physically sick. Easy when you don't have to take the pills three times a day and give yourself shots. Easy when you can distance yourself first from the pregnancy and then from the miscarriage. You don't need to be in the hospital all day. You don't have to get your hopes up every month, only to bleed. It is heartbreaking. It is draining. It takes hope and makes it an enemy.
When Michael was depressed the other week, he told me that he should divorce me. Not an unusual statement when he's in that frame of mind but he said that I would probably have children were I with someone else. He hates sex. He was willing to do it on the doctor mandated days in order to try to have children. But sometimes even the two times was too much for him. Now they are telling us we need to have sex every other day for 10 days. I just laugh. I can't even get him to touch me, a hug, a kiss, hold my hand, every other day. So now he has planted this seed in my mind and I resent him a little. I resent him having a say when he doesn't have to go through any of it. I resent him for having a say when he won't work at it.
Even tonight coming back from the agency, he won't bother to share his opinion. He was silent the entire way home. I told him I wanted to talk about it, to hear his initial thoughts. He wouldn't talk about it. He wouldn't even mutter one word. He came home and went in his bedroom, put his stupid sleep apnea mask and went to sleep. I shouldn't be surprised. When faced with any decision,he'd rather sleep his way through it. To him it is the best way to avoid life.
So how do you choose? How do you decide? How do you stop hoping for something you want so badly?