(Can't) Fix You

It finally happened. Dave broke down. I've been waiting for this for months. He's always the rock of support, but you can only play that position for so long. I noticed his temper was a bit short lately and he seemed a bit glum. I've wanted to prod him a bit to get him to open up, but after listening to the other wives in my support group who had gone that route (and had disastrous results) I decided to leave it. I let Dave simmmer until he was ready to blow. And blow he did.

Dave: I just don't know why I'm so damn angry all the time!
Me: Because I can't have a baby, and you can't fix me.

He was speechless, shocked. He just sat there, considering my statement. And finally, he nodded. He wouldn't look at me, but I could see the sheen of tears.

Dave: It hurts. My job is to fix people, to make them better. I want to help you, but I can't. I can fix strangers, but I can't fix my wife.
Me: And that's okay.

I'm so glad we had that breakthrough. It's weird, but when you're dealing with serious infertility, you go through these stages. Denial, anger, sadness, acceptance, etc. I went through them fairly quickly. I've been at the researching/refusing to give in stage for a few months. Dave's been stuck on the anger/sadness stage, I think. Now we're on the same page. It's a good thing.

We're sifting through research and trying to map out our options. My situation is a bit odd since I have PCOS but also what appears to be mild POF. Basically, my ovaries are covered in cysts and have the egg quality and production of a woman approaching menopause. Yeah. I'm 24. That so seriously blows.

But whatever. We're taking it one day at time. Maybe we'll get pregnant. Maybe we won't. Either way we still have each other, and quite frankly, that's enough for us.