The Weight (Wait) of Infertility

 “What alchemy shines from under that shut door,
spinning out gold from the hollow of the heart?” 

Denise Levertov 

I am tired. 

I think that sentiment is one that has accompanied me more over the last three years of my life than perhaps any other. 

I am tired.

Is this exhaustion the result of hormones gone wild, hormones that like the TV show so much they refuse to exist stage left? 

Is this exhaustion the likely outcome of the emotional roller coaster of infertility? 

Or maybe is this exhaustion unfairly convicting infertility for the transgressions of the work and academic worlds? 

I don’t know. 

I just know that I am tired, and life keeps adding weight. 

Infertility keeps adding wait. 

I believe in hope. I believe in second, and third, and millionth tries. I believe in the possibility of tomorrow. 

And yet, the weight and the wait are tiring. 

Our shoulders get slumped under the weight/wait. Our muscles, especially our heart muscles, become sore with the buildup of life’s lactic acid. Our “get up and try again” becomes too hard to wake up, even with a blaring biological alarm clock. 

The weight/wait can feel too heavy, and when it does we look up and another 20 lb. disc is being added to the bar. 

And though I would like to have a way to turn the weight/wait into something happy, something positive, something hopeful, I can’t–because sometimes, it’s just hard. And sometimes there is no way to make a lemon sweet like lemonade, it’s just a lemon and sucking it makes us sour. 

Sometimes, it just needs to be ok to be sour. Pucker up!


  1. I’m tired too. I’ll sit silently in cyberspace with you.

    1. Thank you for such sweet company.

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