Gabby Writes

This is probably going to give you all a look into how my depression brain works. I need people to know I have no plans to harm myself or end my life — I feel like some of my thoughts could cause someone to think that, but I promise I won’t.

I did my blood pregnancy test today. It was negative. Again.

I knew I would be depressed at the result, but god, I didn’t know it would feel so devastating. Especially since this isn’t the end of my fertility journey. IVF is the next step, and it has better odds. So, why am I so sad?

I cried for an hour after I found out. All kinds of thoughts were flying through my head.

I legitimately felt positive about this round. Hopeful. That this would be the time, I deserve something good to happen. And, yeah, buying our house was a good thing but it doesn’t feel the same, if that makes any sense.

It’s like there’s no point in being hopeful or positive about this. About something I want so much, About something I’ve wanted my whole life. Which probably sounds stupid to some people. It feels like whenever I hope for something these days or try to keep a positive outlook, nothing turns out well. I was like that the whole time my mom was sick, but she still died.

Speaking of my mom. I wish I could talk to her about this. Like, it almost feels like she’s the only one who could make me feel better. She’d let me cry on her and would maybe even cry with me. She would know what to say. She would know how I feel. I didn’t know I would need her this much while I was just trying to get pregnant.

All of this shit makes me feel like I don’t deserve to have this. Like I’ll never get to have the life I’ve wanted. I’ll just be trapped watching everyone else get what they want while also getting the things I want but can’t have.

Why can’t things ever be easy for me? Everything has to be a struggle. People will talk about it making me stringer, or something, but I’m tired of being strong. I always have to be the one that’s OK. When my sister was obviously struggling with her mental health, it just made me hide what was going on with me even more. I didn’t want my parents worrying about both their kids. And the minute my mom got sick, I just knew I had to be the one to keep my shit together. My dad and sister are more reactive in their negative emotions, so I have to keep my cool or everything will go to hell. I have to be OK or else everything will fall apart.

Then, of course, I feel badly for making people worry about me. Because that makes me either a burden or over dramatic. After all, so many people have worse things going on in their lives. Do I even have a right to be this sad about not having a baby?

Then there’s the fact that my issues getting pregnant are all on me. I’m the one with the problem. My uterus is what’s fucked up in this entire equation. It just has to have polyps and not make me ovulate every month. And all I’m gonna do is get older, which is going to make the whole thing even harder.

I guess I just have to expect the worse every time. Then I’ll never feel this bad again.

I’m not going to give up, but I don’t know if I’ll ever feel hopeful again.