I am sure that some of my friends will silently shaking their heads, perhaps even wondering how to tactfully say that I need a good therapist or something. We are all supposed to like hope aren't we? Positive thinking is so helpful, isn't it? Rubbish, I say. Hope and positive thinking are the salt in the wound.
You see, we infertiles live with hope. If there is no hope, infertility would still be a wound, yes, but it might scab over at least. Its the monthly cycle of hoping only to be disappointed once again that causes the real pain. Every month there is hope coming and whispering in our ears, words that we hear and listen to in spite of our own better judgement, because we so want to believe. Like an abusive partner she promisses that this time it will be different, this time she'll keep her promises, she never going to hurt you again... and inevitably she does. Sometimes she is backed up by well meaning friends, peddling her like crack. They mean well, sort of. "I knew this woman who got pregnant once she stopped trying." "I knew this woman who had an 'oops' pregnancy at 42." "It just takes time." They are caught up in how good their own relationship with their hope is that they want to urge you to kiss and make up with hope, thinking that things will be better if you stick together. And so there you are, letting hope whisper her false sweet nothings in your ear, convincing you that yes, this month it will be different. But it never is, and the vicious cycle continues.
Hope is, of course, as slippery thing. An abusive human partner you could either leave or shoot, depending on your inclination and access to firearms. Hope is a tad harder to through out of the house, and it they make a caliber of buller that will penetrate hope and do damage, please tell me what it is because I desperately need to know in case hope shows her face around these parts again. In the meantime, its just me and the dark side of the force trying to hold the line.