TTC: When He Changes His Mind

[[Note: The journey of TTC (trying to conceive) is a hard and painful one sometimes. I considered deleting the entry below, or at least marking it private; however, I feel like maybe someone out there will benefit from hearing the bad with the good. Knowing someone else has suffered the same trials and tribulations as your own can be a good tool for healing.]]


He tells me he’s figured it out, his depression and dissatisfaction with life.

He doesn’t want kids anymore. Kids tie you down, prevent you from taking off to do wild and crazy things. They take time and energy that could be used for living an overflowing life of activity. There is no room for children in the future he wants for himself.

He tells me this after ten months of trying to conceive.

I’ve struggled quietly with my body’s unwillingness to woman, to cycle and bloom into fertility again. I’ve avoided babies, avoided thinking, avoided crying about the way it’s so clear that I’m the biologically damaged one. I’ve found a way to push my needs and desires into a calm corner, because breathing is necessary in day-to-day living.

Saying his depression was triggered by the idea of children took all the effort I’ve put into being strong and crumpled it into dust.

It’s not just the sudden change of heart that leaves me lost. It’s the reality of its ripples.

We’re polyamorous. If I had a child with my other partner, he’d still be stuck with a child he doesn’t want. We’re a household, a non-nuclear family; there is no easy separation of biology in this case.

The only way to meet his newfound desire to be childless… is to be childless myself, or to let him leave.

He’s rejected one of the few dreams I’ve held steady for my entire life. The hope of becoming a mother is a piece of myself, something I’m not sure can be removed from the definiton of who I am. So, in a way, he’s rejected me.

So here I am.

Hurt.

Too hurt to voice these feelings out loud to my best friend. Too hurt to vent, to let off steam and seek relief from the aching pressure in my skin. Too hurt to be comforted without dissolving like a sandcastle in the surf.

Part of me wants to dissolve.

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