Broken

Test Results: Negative

This sucks! I don't want to hurt like this anymore.

Of course I am metaphorically broken: brokenhearted, broken in spirit, But am I also literally broken? In body? It seems like the most basic female function is to bear children. The original commands to Adam and Eve included God's wish for them to multiply. So what's the deal?

The longer this goes on, the more I start to feel inadequate not only as a mother (that's obvious), but also as a helpmate to my husband. It's hard not to wonder, if he knew from the start that I was infertile, would he still have wanted to marry me? I'm sure he would have; he's a saint. He still wanted me with all my other faults and flaws (and those are numerous). But I'm also sure that this is certainly not what he was expecting, nor what he thought he was signing up for.

I'll be honest, in my darkest moments, I sometimes wish that there was a provision in which I could give him an out under the "I can't bear you children" clause. I probably wouldn't be self sacrificing enough to let him go, even if said clause existed, but I hate feeling like a failure to our family. But regardless, that's not the way marriage was intended. Our wedding vows said "in sickness and in health", so whether or not this is what he thought when he said those words, he's stuck with me.

If the situation was reversed, would I want out under that provision? If we had MFI (Male Factor Infertility), would I want to step aside to find someone with super sperm? Absolutely not. I want Sam as my husband and the father of my children, whether that's genetic or not. But I also think (this may be my naivety) that MFI would be easier to grapple with than my current situation. Maybe this is simply because I'm the girl, maybe Sam wouldn't feel this way, but donor sperm doesn't seem that drastic. As long as I carry the child, give birth to the child, and Sam and our family is there in the hospital, it still seems like we get 100% of the experience. I would carry the child, give birth to the child. We could spend 9 months creating a bond with the baby. These days, you can literally input your husband's data and find someone so similar, no one but the two of you would ever have to know.

But if I'm broken, like broken-broken, like Humpty Dumpty broken, then all the donor sperm, eggs, and embryos in the world won't help me. It all eventually falls on me to carry the child for nine months. If I can't do that, I am pretty much broken. Our only choice might be adoption. I'm mostly okay with that. I'll admit that despite planning to adopt one day, I had really wanted to experience the miracle myself. My biggest issue with adoption right now: it seems about a decade a way at best. When would we have $30,000?

Regardless of any or all of our options, I don't want to be broken. I want to be a real, fully functional woman who can bear my husband children to carry on his name. I wish there was some female parts superglue to put all my broken pieces together.

And I don't want to feel like this anymore. I'm so sick of tears. Sick of the "hang in there"s and the "it'll happen"s. My heart is broken for what feels like the billionth time.