hope, anger, courage

25 Apr

This week (April 20-26) is National Infertility Awareness Week.  I initially thought I’d join in first thing on Monday, but I haven’t posted anything (obviously) because I was hoping and praying that we were going to find out this week that we were finally getting off the infertility train.

 

16 days ago, I had my first IUI.  The girl who fought tooth and nail against medical intervention let them shove a catheter up her cervix to inject sperm directly into her uterus (after hormones to help a follicle grow and a shot in the ass to trigger ovulation).  If I’m being 100% honest, a huge reason I didn’t want to go the medical route was because if it fails, it’s over.  Period.  The end.  So since we’ve started, every time we do something new or different, I think this has GOT to be it.  This is going to be the time that works, this is going to be the last time I have to undergo some painful/humiliating/scary procedure, just to have a baby.  Every time, I am crushed again.  And it’s hard not to be fatalistic in that moment when you realize that “the next thing” didn’t work and you’re moving on to the NEXT next thing.  Remember when I was naive and thought that having a baby, when I was ready, would be so easy and loving and happy…silly girl…

 

So yesterday morning, I took my first pregnancy test in what feels like forever.  This is a big deal because I have probably taken at least 50 pregnancy tests over the past 3.5 years.  With this test, I already knew.  There was no question in my mind–I’ve been watching my temperature fall for several days now.  Not a good sign.  I saw the negative test and went back to bed–there were no tears at all.  I didn’t even bother to wake Eric.  When he woke up on his own, I matter-of-factly told him it was negative.  There were no tears–it’s like I’m numb to all of this or I’ve cried them all out already.  Like none of it matters anymore.

 

I called the doctor to see what was next.  Without my period, it’s not technically over, they said.  I’m right, the falling temperatures most likely indicate that I am not pregnant, but there’s always a chance.  So test again tomorrow morning (because one slap in the face isn’t enough), and then call back on Monday if you are still testing negative but not getting your period so we can send you for some blood work and figure out what’s going on.  Lovely.

 

I woke up this morning.  I took my temperature, was simultaneously dismayed and unsurprised by the low reading, and got up to go pee on a stick (POAS in fertility chats).  Sure enough, it was negative.  I went back to bed and got into bed, pulled up my fertility friend app on my phone and plugged in my temp.  The program is designed to look at your temps and tell you when you ovulated and chart your temperatures.  A screen popped up when I hit save this morning to let me know that due to the most recent input, they could no longer confirm ovulation.

 

I lost it.  I cried for a half hour or so this morning, and then cried a few more times as the morning went on.  I don’t know if fertility friend is right–I had an HCG shot to trigger ovulation, so I thought that was just a given.  Then again, with my body, nothing seems to be a given, and NOT ovulating would explain why I haven’t gotten a period yet.  I almost called in sick today, but we’re testing, so I really couldn’t.  I got ready and went to work.

hurt

 

If I didn’t ovulate, I’m not sure what the next step will be.  Possibly injectibles, but my doctor was nervous because of the HUGE potential for multiples.  I wish I could have multiples.  At the rate we’re going, we’d be lucky to get pregnant once.  And I really don’t want an only child…I mean, I would take it.  But I never dreamed in a million years that we’d be facing the potential of no children or an only child.   The only other option would be IVF.  And I’m pretty sure that for us, that won’t be an option (which I will maybe go into another time).  There’s also adoption.  I was so sure that adoption was right for us, but now that I’m faced with that potentially being our ONLY option, I’m unsure.  Something that I’ve always been excited about (even before the fertility issues, I thought adoption would be really awesome after I had some of my own kids) is now something I go back and forth about it.  I guess I really don’t know what I want.  No, not true.  I want to lay on the floor and throw a temper tantrum because I’m not getting what I want and this is ridiculous.

 

anger and courage

 

So hope, anger, courage.

 

I tried, with this cycle, to keep my hopes pretty low.  Everyone keeps telling me to think positively, to hold on to hope, to keep my chin up.  They don’t realize how much worse it hurts when your hopes are so high.  It’s worse when you think this time might be it.  It’s worse when you have analyzed every possible physical symptom and convinced yourself that you were “feeling pregnant.”  It’s worse when you have let yourself start to think about baby names and toys and clothes and nurseries…

 

So I tried to keep my hopes pretty low.  Maybe that’s why there was an initial lack of tears this time.  Even when I was on the phone with the doctor yesterday, even when they said that I was most likely not pregnant, I didn’t cry.  I didn’t even get misty.  Amazing.

 

I don’t know when I became so bitter and jaded and angry.  I was having a conversation the other night with Eric and Gustavo.  Afterward, I thought about the things I had said.  I sounded insane to myself.  So mean, so bitter, so jealous. So not myself.  This was a conversation Eric and I have had a few times now.  I didn’t use to verbalize some of the more ugly feelings because they’re…well…ugly.  But the truth is that I am often horribly jealous of women who are pregnant or have children.  Horribly.  There have been numerous occassions where I’ve told Eric that I hate them.  And his response is simple:  It’s not them I hate, it’s our situation that I hate, and that’s completely fine and normal.  His support and love through all of this has been unwavering, and it’s reassuring to know that when I’m at my bitchiest, when I’m being the worst person in the world, filled with hatred and jealousy and ugliness, he doesn’t run.

 

So I’m angry, which is a weird emotion for me–I’m not typically angry, and if I get upset, it usually goes away quickly.  I’m learning how to cope with that anger, though.  I’m angry that I live a relatively healthy lifestyle, I am educated, I am successful, I am intelligent, I am a hard-worker, I am (*I think*) overall a really good person, and I want a child.  I’m angry that Eric is the same, and that despite being ready and willing to have a baby, we can’t, while women who don’t want to have a baby are getting pregnant all around us.  Women who aren’t ready, who are too young, too immature, too careless.  Women who don’t want a baby, men who are nothing more than sperm donors.  They all get what WE want.  People tell me to pray harder for a baby and I want to laugh.  I’m sure the last thing people who get pregnant on accident were doing was praying for a baby.

 

I’m trying to be courageous.  I’m trying to keep my chin up and keep hope alive, to think positively.  But sometimes it’s really effing hard.  Sometimes it’s hard to smile.  It’s hard to go out and see pregnant women.  It’s hard to work with so many beautiful little children all day long and then go home to an empty, quiet house.  It’s hard to hear people talking about their families and not know if that will ever be us.

 

I think that’s the hardest part–the not knowing.  It’s not like I KNOW that we’ll be parents someday.  If I knew that it was going to happen for us sometime down the line, then I could hang in there knowing that it’s just not time.  Conversely, if I knew that we were NEVER going to have children, I could grieve about it, then get on with my life.  Not that I think deciding to live childless would be easy or just magically end all this angst.  Just that I could stop getting my hopes up all the time just to have them crushed again and again.

 

I have no idea what to do next.  I’m just thankful that we have a really busy weekend so that I am not sitting around thinking about all of this…

hurt3

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One Response to “hope, anger, courage”

  1. Jen April 29, 2014 at 3:59 pm #

    I’m so sorry. I hate that you have to go through all this crap. Sometimes life is unfair and sucky and it’s ok to feel all the feelings about that. But you could never be bitchy or ugly if you tried. You are a beautiful, amazing, generous, kind, incredibly strong person and you will get through this. Hugs and sponge candy!

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