Saturday, April 24, 2010


One of the worst things about infertility and RPL is what I like to call the grief smackdown. I can be walking around, a sorta normal, fairly happy person, when BAM! A grief smackdown leaves me cowering, snotty and tearful, waiting for another blow.

Most often, the grief smackdown is triggered by something ridiculous and unexpected. Sure, the belly rubbers and the FB baby boom get me down, but I expect to feel like shit when looking at newborn pictures or staring at pregnant bellies.

This week's grief smackdown has come courtesy of a bed.

Hubby and his dad spent the day doing some heavy moving on Wednesday. They picked up the materials for our new deck (to be built sometime this summer, I hope) and then some furniture his parents wanted to get rid of.

The furnishings? They're for our empty guest room. Since we've lived in this house, the second largest bedroom has stayed empty, ready to become a nursery for our baby. That emptiness was like a symbol of our hope that eventually, someday, some way, we'd bring a baby home. I'd go in there, occasionally, just to look around the room and picture how we'd set it up. It was a room that was fertile ground for daydreams and wishful thinking.

And then we agreed to take this bed and dresser from the out-laws. We need another bed, to be sure. My family lives halfway across the country, and between their visits and friends who spend the night, it'll get used. (Side note: I need to remember to put rubber sheets on that thing. One of our lovely friends occasionally spends the night because he doesn't drink and drive. Last summer he ruined our sweet. red. leather couch by peeing on it in his drunken stupor. Somehow, I love him anyway.) I always imagined, though, that we'd get some small daybed or futon and stuff it into our third bedroom/office (which is really not much bigger than a large closet). There is no way that queen sized bed will fit into the office - not if you want to be able to walk, too.

And so now, that queen sized mattress and boxspring and dresser sit in my dining room, because I cannot bear to haul them upstairs and say goodbye to my vision of us, as a family, filling that room with the sweet smells and sounds of babyhood. It feels like a betrayal of my hopeful self, but the reality is that I'm probably not pregnant now. And even if I were, I'd probably miscarry. Chances are, we have years left in our quest, because that is how long it's going to take to get our finances in order.

Hubby is so wonderful. I know he won't push me to get the bed together and the room established as a proper guest room until I'm good and ready to say goodbye to what could have been. And I suppose that is the one small light in all of this: I love him. I know how much he loves me, despite my faulty parts and bouts of tearfulness. That has to be enough, for now.


  1. =( hang in there.
    I'm with you on this one. Empty womb. Empty rooms.

    I've rejected offers for a "perfectly good bed" from the mother in law several times. I don't want to need another guest room, I want to need a crib.

  2. I do understand. Sending a big hug.

  3. I'm so sorry. I know how hard this has got to be for you. We, too, have an empty room waiting to be filled. When we built the house 5 years ago, we didn't bother painting it or filling it because we just *knew* that it would be decorated for a baby in no time. It's sad to let that go.

    Wishing you all the best.
    Happy iclw

  4. Hi, stopping by from ICLW. I can only imagine how difficult this is, and you are right, sometimes a massive smack comes out of nowhere. You had gone through so much, sending you love and hugs, Fran


  5. I know you're hurting and I'm so sorry that you experience the "smackdowns". I have to say though, you made me feel so much better. This happens to me regularly and I thought it was just because there was something wrong with me and I needed to get my shit together.

    The empty room has to be such a difficult thing for you and the taking steps to fill it for guests? You're in my thoughts. (((HUGS)))

  6. We are kind of in a similar situation...I don't want to give up my empty room, either. Hang in there and big hugs!

  7. Here from ICLW and I am hoping that your dream will finally come true. I only had one pregnancy in 10 years, and one pregnancy loss. I cannot imagine the heartache of losing time and again. I have learned on my own journey that grief is indeed a fickle friend... and I'm so sorry you are experiencing so much of it.

  8. Maybe if you go ahead and fill that room and turn it into your "guest room" you will become pregnant cause that would just be about what would happen to me. I would finally give in to the empty room and get it all setup and painted and ready for guests, and whamo, I would get a BFP. (not that I would stay preggers)

  9. I have a similar story... we had a spare bed in the "nursury" and I hated the bedding on it but thought i'd leave it because we'd be dismantling that bed and putting it in the basement once the baby came anyway. Recently, I went to Crate and Barrel and picked out new bedding for the bed. I brought it home and it took me 4 weeks to pull it all out, wash it and put it on the bed. I still haven't hung pictures and decorated the room ... maybe over the summer.

    Point is, I completely understand where you're coming from. And its heart breaking.

  10. I wonder how many of us have that room. Sometimes though, you have to be practical, and you still have an extra room, you're just storing a bed in there for a while. We have one of those rooms, and I'm turning it into a playroom for our friends kids - the crib is going in there anyway, just not for us.

  11. When we moved into our house, 1 year into TTC, we too had a room that was designated the nursery, even though it just had a daybed in there--it basically served as an extra guest room, which came in handy when all 3 of my siblings-in-law decided to move in with us at once! But when it wasn't filled with in-laws or visitors, it made me deeply sad. After 2 years of sitting there just waiting to be a nursery, that room finally became our son's room when he joined our family through open adoption. Many of my friends comment now how great it is that it really is a nursery now (I always called it our "future nursery" when I gave a tour of our house since I didn't know what else to call it). I feel your pain, and I hope you have to get rid of that queen bed soon because there just isn't room for it in your nursery!

  12. I also wonder how many of us have that room.
    Hang in there

    ~Stopping by for ICLW #126

  13. It generally comes when you're least expecting... At least for me. I'm glad you have a wonderful husband to support you!