no, kid, your uterus aches.

there is an unsettling feeling that has grown in my uterus. there is actually so much unsettling that i am starting to feel rattled.

it could very well be the birth control pills too.

i don’t do well on hormones. my body, well my body isn’t completely used to the natural hormones let alone these synthetic ones and so they throw me more out of wack than i originally was and i have always been a bit neuroatypical/neurodivergent.

trying to conceive while you have a mental illness is rough. it’s not easy and, like always, i try really, really hard to preserve but there are just days when it becomes incredibly tough. i start to itch in my own skin and i want to get out of it so bad. i start hating my city, not enjoying my home, and developing an unquenchable craving to go, go, go.

that craving is harder now – my uterus is unsettled and i think of being a kid bridging into puberty and how inaccurate it was when i held my stomach and told my mother, “my tummy aches.”

no, kid, your uterus aches.

it aches and aches and aches and it is demanding for some kind of control – everything feels like an earthquake – and i am trying to grasp for some kind of control.

having depression and (not that i talk much about this because i don’t know how) low needs autism has always made life a bit challenging. add ptsd from childhood trauma to the mix that is mostly sorted out but sometimes pops up like an old family member – when life becomes unsettled, my perfectly balanced card house starts to wiggle and wiggle.

it is hard to find that calm and that balance in moments like this.

“it’s a cycle,” i remind myself. “focus on what you can control. focus on right now.”

well, right now i am sitting on the couch smelling spices and peppers in the air. i am almost a week into whole30 and my wife is making chili. it smells good and its nice not to be cooking for once.

i ran into a friend in the grocery store and it made my feel human. i’ve been so stuck in my home – my bed – for so long that i think i have forgotten who i am. who i was before the hormones and the trying and the disappointments and the lack of my uterus being filled.

why don’t we ever talk about this? how trying to conceive affects someone’s mental well-being? or how it can add to someone’s already steady stream of depression? why can’t we ever be vulnerable with each other and check in with each other and why, yet, hasn’t mental illness been made okay to talk about?

its here. its the babadook in the closet.

it is the conjoined twin that i will never be able to fully separate from and, yes, i am struggling but talking about it helps and acknowledging its helps and mental illness isn’t a myth. it is as real as infertility that i am dealing with which is as real as the cancer someone else might be dealing with.

just because you can’t see what is attached to me, what has attributed to who i am or how i behave, doesn’t make it not real.

so, yes, i am unsettled and i am struggling but i am talking about it. i have opened my doors and windows and invited the feelings inside because ignoring them makes them worse – seeing them, feeling them, acknowledging and validating them is how i grow.

it’s how i move forward and fight these sads and the moment i was born i was fighting.

this week my wife is going to be gone to california and i am going to be here, with myself, and i desperately want to be gone, gone, gone and exploring a different place but i know this is a good moment for me.

my mom taught me to swim when i was three by throwing my into a pool and i thrived. i have nearly four days without my wife – my safe haven – and i will reteach myself how to swim.

i will encourage myself to reach out and remind myself that i have friends, that there are people there who will stand by my side. i will take the time to write and write and tell stories. i will take the time to make and bound a book. i will find ways to satisfy the unsettled uterus and craving and remind myself that things are in motion.

things are in motion.

we have a plan and there is so much more hope and i am a person.

right now, trying to conceive is my life – has been my life – but it isn’t who i am or what i am or am not capable of.

right now, i can remember that. i can find my stories to tell and art to make and people to reach out to and i know how to settle myself. i know how to settle my depression and wanderlust and i am capable of that.

the hormones are hard as fuck – even something small as a birth control pill – but it isn’t impossible. it’s a cycle and a fight and i am going to win this battle.

yes, my empty uterus aches and aches right now but it will be settled. my skin will settle. my insides will relax. and i will find peace and power in being here, steady, and balanced on my two feet.

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