Amnesia: A Positive New Side Effect?

Tonight was my first consultation appointment at my potentially new RE's office. I am strongly considering leaving the reputable center I've become all too familiar with over the past year and a 1/2 for many reasons. I was truly hoping that this meeting today would give me the hope that I needed to continue on my journey. Although my DH would disagree, I just wasn't feeling it.

The RE walked into the consultation room mumbling something inaudible. It was a few seconds later that I realized he wasn't mumbling, he had introduced himself. WTF?! Mr. RE proceeds to sit down and stare at our neatly copied folder of fun. He quickly gives up and begins asking me the basics - last period? health history? length of cycle? does DH have trouble getting or maintaining an erection? (I love when they throw that in there! Helps DH feel included.) All of this information is already included on the 37 forms I had to fill out prior to the appointment, but I won't bother going there.

I tried my best to explain the last year and a 1/2 of hell, however my husband had to jump in when it became evident to him that I forgot the last 5 months of my IF journey. I kid you not, I actually forgot my most recent canceled IVF cycle and all of the trauma that went with it. The last thing I remembered was the BFN from my frozen transfer in September. It was like everything else in the last 5 months just disappeared. My DH looked at me like I was insane and quite rightly so. Sometimes I wonder how he hasn't had me checked into a psych facility yet.

Anyway, I've been thinking about how powerful that little memory lapse was and the potential that it holds for my future sanity. I decided to come up with a list of things I'd forget, if I could...

I would forget that my sister in law became pregnant. And easily...are you even surprised?
I would forget that her and my brother decided to tell us in person, 4 days after my canceled cycle.
I would forget the way I blushed and the tears that stung the back of my eyes.
I would forget that I have at least 4 baby showers to attend this year.
I would forget the feelings of despair.
I would forget our trip to Amsterdam with another married couple. You see, "she" found out she was expecting baby 2 - SURPRISE - the day before we left. "She" who never even wanted children.
I would forget the numbing pain caused by knowing that my DH and I will not have fun while making our baby.
I would forget the thought of ICSI.
I would forget the feeling in the pit of my stomach each time a new person tells me that their dream will be realized.
I would forget the endless fights triggered by our pain.
I would forget the anger.
I would forget the resentment.
I would forget the bits of bullshit advice. I know I don't even need to give the examples. You all know them by heart.
I would forget my skepticism of God.
I would forget that my cousin, my second sister, is making her family and I've been left behind.
I would forget the envy I feel for those more fortunate, especially those I love.
I would forget the humiliation.
I would forget how something sacred has become something scientific and sterile.
I would forget the pain that this causes for others.
I would forget stirrups, white sheets, and ultrasound probes.
I would forget the lonely pink line.
I would forget the time my veins collapsed because I had given blood 9 days in a row.
I would forget the shots that hit nerves.
I would forget the bloating, the bruising, the broken blood vessels.
I would forget the oily lumps in my ass from the progesterone.
I would forget the "phone calls" confirming what I already knew in my gut.
I would forget the "look" that people get when they have to deliver pregnancy news to me.
I would forget the mood swings.
I would forget the loss of my sex drive.
I would forget the sadness in my husband's eyes.
I would forget his tears.
I would forget the loss of our dignity.

I know everyone out there in the IF world feels these losses. I'm no different. Some days they just seem too big to bear alone. I know I can't ever forget, and maybe one day, I won't want to. But for now, for tonight...I do.