Emotions are funny things. They rise and fall with each passing moment. One day a certain emotion can mean one thing, but the next day mean something entirely different. My emotions have admittedly been less than stable lately. They change so rapidly that I often feel like I have whiplash, yet I am powerless to them. The one that I have been struggling with is not a new one. It is an old friend, even though I am familiar with it, it has taken a new turn in my life.


The green-eyed monster that lives within us all. Like I said, this is not new. Since dealing with infertility jealousy has become such a strong part of me that sometimes I can’t remember what it is like to live without it. Back a few months ago I would say that my jealousy was like a fire that raged inside me. It was strong, hot, and angry. The anger scared me. It would cause me to hate people who I had never or would never meet, simply because they had what I did not.

I didn’t like that side of jealousy. I’m not a hateful person, I’m a pacifist by nature. But when I saw a young mom walking down the mall with a swollen belly and a toddler in the stroller I actively hated them. Why did they have it all when I was left with nothing? Why did she have her babies in her arms while I only had short and painful memories of mine. Most of all why did I have to become the person that had all these horrible thoughts?

I hated who I became because of jealousy. But if you are now expecting me to say how I hated it so much that I figured out a way to rid it from my life you’re wrong. Because that awful emotion is now inside of me stronger than ever before, but it has changed. It is not longer the blinding hot rage. It is more muted, cold, and sad. Most of all sad.

Now when I see the woman in the OB’s office rubbing her pregnant belly I don’t get angry or hateful. I get hurt. Because the path that we are now on means that there is a good chance I will never experience that. I may never see my body swell and grown with a healthy child growing inside of me or get to know what it is like to feel that child moving. I may never know what it is like to go in for an ultrasound without dread and fear hanging over my head. I wish I could have these things. But I most likely won’t.

I took my love and I took it down 
I climbed a mountain and I turned around

I feel such a deep sense of loss about it. Like I am missing out on a fundamental part of being a woman. I’m mad at my body for not being able to perform the thing it was made to do. Others around me happily announce their pregnancies on Facebook at 8 weeks not realizing how incredibly LUCKY they are. Or maybe I’m just unlucky. I don’t know. I’ve also struggled with blogs as of late. When I started following blogs I found so many people in situations similar or even more advanced than mine. I fell right in the middle and felt whole when surrounded by them. But most have moved on. Most in my generation have found their way. They are parenting, about to give birth, or in their 2nd trimester.

Of course this isn’t true of everyone. There are many I admire who have been in the trenches much longer than me who are still fighting. Those people are beyond amazing in my book. Most days I have no clue how someone goes on and on down this path, because I feel so hopelessly lost. I don’t mean to sound like I am mad at or alienating anyone. I am incredibly happy for anyone who has resolved or is currently pregnant. After all, it is the same dream we have all chased, so I could never resent someone for having their dream come true? Again, I’m just jealous.

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills 
‘Till the landslide brought me down

The thing about the current jealousy though, is it is not just sadness. There is also a sense of finality and acceptance about it. So when I say that I am sad about all the things I will miss out on I am in no way trying to fight my way towards them still. I know what my path is and I know it is the right decision. I just wish I knew how to ride this change without feeling so profoundly lost.

Oh, mirror in the sky 
What is love? 
Can the child within my heart rise above? 
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? 
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I’m taking baby steps. There is so much I have to do to prepare for this new way of life, yet whenever I have the spare time I feel as though I am walking through quicksand. I know what needs to be done but I can’t bring myself to do it. This just isn’t the way I thought it be. I shouldn’t be surprised about that though. None of us walked into this journey thinking that we’d have to go through everything we do in order to have a family. But here we all are.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing 
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you 
But time makes you bolder 
Children get older 
I’m getting older too

I’m hoping the end is near. One way or another a resolution will happen even if it is not what I expected. But the jealousy, I’m not sure if that will ever go away.




Filed under Depression, Healing, Infertility, Living Life, Moving On

14 responses to “Landslide

  1. What a heart wrenching post. I’m so sorry you find yourself on this path and feel so lost. It’s a horrible place to be.

    Sending love and light and peace.

    Abiding with you.

  2. I could have written this post. It’s one of the reasons why pregnancy after infertility is such a bittersweet thing too, because you KNOW you’ve left people and loved ones behind, and it’s such a hard place to be in.

    I hope your time comes soon.

  3. It takes time to embrace a different storyline than the one you thought you’d live. I hope this new path leads you to the take-home baby you’ve fought so hard for.

  4. I know exactly how you feel. I reminded my friends who would say “I have something to tell you, and I hope you aren’t mad…” (always knowing they were about to tell me they are pregnant) that just because I am sad for me doesn’t mean I am not happy for you. You can feel both emotions at the same time. It took us 3.5 years to get/stay pregnant this time around, and hopefully I stay pregnant, but what I tried to tell myself was that I still have a life, and a husband, and a family that loves me, and my job! Fill your life with things you love – vacations, cooking classes, girls night out, etc. We can have a fulfilling life even if we don’t have children (at least that is what I tried telling myself, and I finally did make peace with it).

  5. You have put words to exactly how I feel. And Landslide is totally on my infertility playlist on my iPod. I wish there was some deep and profound explanation for why some of us get left on *this* side of infertility and others manage to “resolve” their infertility, as is said. I doubt it would make us feel any better though. The change you are making is not a simple one. Its not like a person turning on the spot, more like the Titanic trying to swing around to avoid the iceberg – not easy and takes a damn long time. I wish that when we accepted the change in our circumstances, the jealousy had simply evaporate. But like you, I still struggle with the sadness and bitterness of it. Not all the time, but it rears up regularly and I don’t know if it will ever go away completely. I’m thinking of you and sending you strength.

  6. Shelley

    Oh Trisha, I’m so sorry for all you’re going through. I still hold out hope that you will get to experience a pregnancy for yourself. I think you’re right, the jealousy may never go away. I still feel jealous of women who get pregnant easily and naturally, women who have healthy babies that will come home within a few days of being born, women who have no freaking clue about the other side of the equation. I tell myself though that maybe this is my burden to bear, and that as hard as this one is, we all have them. That there are other people who know about other physical and emotional burdens that I am blissfully unaware of. That maybe they envy my legs, my heart, my eyes, my ears, my family. I hope most of all that you find peace in some way, shape or form. Until then I am here, I am listening and caring so much, and sending you strength.

  7. 35life

    I am absolutely moved by this post. You’ve pretty much summed up exactly how I’ve felt during my journey. The path might be slightly different, but the feelings are so similar. I also feel like my body has failed me and I’ve gone thru those exact feelings of jealousy, both the hateful kind (even to those I don’t know) and also the cold, sad, numb kind (which I sometimes still feel now). I wish I had answers for you. I sometimes feel like I’m getting closer to being ok – sometimes I choose not to think about it at all, or finding new things to throw myself into, but like you said, I’m not sure it will ever entirely go away. I’m still in the trenches and I totally feel for you.

    BTW, Fleetwood Mac is probably my all time fave band and your song choice couldn’t be more perfect, for so many reasons.

  8. Life has been so unfair, and I wish I could change that for you. I also wish that more people understood just how lucky they are – not that it would change your situation, but for me at least more compassion from IRL friends would help. My heart break a little bit each time I can tell that someone really just doesn’t understand.

  9. I’m not sure jealousy ever goes away in an infertile, but like Shelley mentioned, maybe there are aspects of your life that others are jealous of. I hope your new path leads you to your take-home baby.

  10. I understand… I wish none of us would have to go through all these painful thoughts and feelings. Much love to you xo

  11. A raw post. And yet one that I can identify with. One of the hardest things about being on this road is that the longer you’re on it, the more you sacrifice. There’s no rhythm or reason for why this is the case, but it’s clear that it takes so much out of a person. And it’s incredibly unfair.

    The history of Landslide is one firmly rooted in change. Stevie Nicks wrote this song during a particular trying time in her life, where there was a lot of uncertainty and hardship. She wrote the song while visiting Aspen, Colorado, sitting in someone’s living room “looking out at the Rocky Mountains pondering the avalanche of everything that had come crashing down on us … at that moment, my life truly felt like a landslide in many ways.

    Like Stevie, I believe that you will not only survive this period, but thrive. I believe that even in moments where you feel like you can’t go on, you will pick yourself up and take yet another step forward. And I promise you this; you won’t be doing it alone.

    Sending love and light to you, my friend. Change is hard. But I believe in you.

  12. What an appropriate song for this feeling. Jealousy is one of the hardest parts of infertility for me. I hate the way it makes me feel. It is by far the strongest emotion or pull thybinhbe felt on thisnjo

    • Sorry…my phone went crazy. It’s the hardest emotion or pull I have felt on this journey other than pure sadness. For me, jealousy felt like pure evil. Evil that nothin could stop from invading my heart. It made it such a cold, unrecognizable place.

      So I hate that this is your season right now. And I would do anything to stop this pain.

  13. Landslide is such an achingly beautiful piece. I hope this new path leads you to the future you yearn for. Light and love.

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