Mikvah shmikvah
I feel burned. I was so excited when I heard about this blog. I loved the mikvah. I loved going, I loved prepping, I loved knowing I was maintaining a mitzvah that goes back so long. My heart stops when I read about mikva’ot found at Masada or buried under buildings in Europe or hidden away cisterns in S’fat. The stories that we’ve all heard about Russian women chipping through the ice in frigid temperatures so they can immerse gives me goosebumps. The danger women put themselves in to immerse during inquisitions, progroms, the Holocaust just astounds me. Would I be as strong as they, I often wondered.
I even liked the wait. The first week of “freedom” – not having to respond to pressure from my husband, not having to feel bad if I wasn’t in the mood, enjoying the space in the bed and the shyness of covering up. The second week of anticipation, building to frustration and annoyance. Isn’t it mikvah night, yet?! Then of course, there’s the actual mikvah night. Full of expectation, nervousness, anxiety, but regardless of how we – ahem – observed the night, finally being able to fall asleep in each other’s arms again. Bliss. I couldn’t wait to write about all that, and share my enthusiasm and maybe, possibly, even get someone else to start observing taharat ha’mishpacha.
Now I just find it annoying and painful. Yet another month in a long, unbroken chain of months of going to the mikvah. A long, unbroken chain that will keep going and going and going until menopause hits. Everything is compounded. I’m dealing with mild depression as a result of the infertility treatments not working, which is pounded into my head each month when I get my period, and then when I get to the mikvah: “YOU’RE NOT PREGNANT. YOU NEVER WILL BE. And you’ll have to do all of this again next month. And again. And again.” So I get more depressed. And because, while I’m niddah, I can’t get any hugs or other physical comfort from my husband, I get more depressed. Then comes the mikvah, and well, you get the idea.
So it makes it very hard to be enthusiastic about mikvah. And very hard to write about it. I had no idea so much time had passed since my last post. I made a commitment to post a certain amount and I have not been able to live up to that. And I didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud, only writing “boo hoo, poor me” posts, but that’s all I’m feeling lately. So if y’all will just bear with me, I might not have the most upbeat posts, but I’ll at least try to do better about posting at all.
Comments
fb - I know exactly how you feel, and I also know that finding out you are not alone does not necessarily make things better... but at least it gives you a support group and shoulders to cry on. Never feel bad for being a "boo hoo" that's what we're here for, cry away girl, we're listening.
I haven't posted in a while either, probably for the same reasons you haven't. I'm still going to the mikvah month after month after month after month and just got back from going to my younger sister's son's bris. Life goes on whether we want it too or not.
fb, shifra -- ditto.
well, my reasons for a monthly trip are currently by choice but given my family history that streak may continue (or may not, but given both sides of my family, i'll probably keep up this monthly trip for a while) .. It is making me look towards altering my cycle for longer periods sans-niddah. as much for my break (i hate RED) as for being not-niddah.
I don't know what to say. I've not had anything to post.. As different as my situation is, I understand. {{hug}}
fb,
Just wanted to say that I'm glad you posted. I'm sorry that you are going through this. A lot of people are reading your posts and thinking and caring about you. I think it's imortant to post about the good stuff as well as the bad stuff. I think the thing that is most important about this website is not necessarily making t"h look like the easiest most wonderful thing to do in life, but more the strong, wonderful, real women behind this practice. What you're going through I'm sure others are as well and you give them strength and courage just by reading about another woman going through the same thing. I think your honesty is brave and in the end it will probably help you as well as other women more than just writing about the pretty things. Again, just wanted to let you know people are listening, caring, and thinking of you.
Shoshana
{{hugs!}} and lots of them!
fB, I can't pretend to understand... but that's another reason why it's so important for you to post about it. My prayers every week when I light candles now include a general prayer for all those suffering through infertility, and I would never have really known even a bit of what it must be like without the experience of reading blog posts such as yours.
I don't pretend to know G-d's plan, but He does have a plan for you. I pray it will include healing from the pain you so obviously feel.
Oh, and definitely lots of hugs. From all of us.
I just wanted to thank you for writing, as difficult as it was for you. You post resonates for me, on a different but similarly painful level, and I am comforted by your words.
Oh, fB. I know no one's situation is exactly the same, but I think many of my posts have conveyed the very same feeling about going to mikvah month after month.
I am so sorry. I wish there was something I could do besides listen. But I'll do that as hard as I can.