The tears came today. I knew I had been holding them at bay. There were only a few silent tears weeks ago the morning I took the HPT and saw the very stark white negative. But there was a 2 year old to feed, and dress. Life went on. And I still had to go have my damn bloodwork taken to confirm what I already knew.
And then I was numb. Just numb.
And then I was angry.
And envious.
But mostly I have just been numb.
I have felt the emotion brewing though. I have been annoyed with people easily. I have just wanted to take hot showers and be on my computer dulling the pain by mindless internet searching. I have immersed my brain in trying to (unsuccessfully) dream new dreams.
And then I decided to sort, organize, and purge the 8 large plastic bins of clothes and baby supplies. Agonizing. Why, I chose now to do that, I don't know- maybe it helped me grieve? Maybe it helped me feel the anger? I don't know. I just been on a mission to get rid of ALL of it.
And then an email arrived just now in my inbox from one of those websites that sends regular developmentally appropriate topics. There have been several times they have been right on- like the week my itty bitty newborn born broke out in zits that could rival a 13 year old boy- the subject of the email was "Baby Acne- no need to worry". And a few months ago it was on 2 year olds and lying, which I had just been talking to my nanny about. And then today. Today the subject was "imaginary friends"
And the tears began to fall.
My daughter just turned 3 last week. And we have had an abundance of imaginary friends in our house. I delight in it on many levels. But it also has stirred up deep emotions.
The imaginary friends came into our world the week after we pulled my daughter out of preschool. It is a long story and one for a later time, but it wasn't going well for her. And so she brought her preschool friends with her into our home in her imagination. And I have felt guilt for pulling her from the school and classroom she enjoyed. Guilt that her social life is now richly in her imagination instead of at school.
And two days ago she asked me if there was a baby in my tummy. Gah! Where do they come up with this stuff? And I said "No, no honey there won't be any more babies my tummy." And my mama guilt revs up- that she will never have a sibling in the home, that it will be just me, her poppa, and her imaginary friends.
And damn it- I wanted more for her than that. I don't want her to grow up an only child in the house.
I don't want this.
It is so cliche, but so true- This definitely hurts less. It still hurts deep. It still can be brutal. But it doesn't even come close to touching the dark, dark days prior to holding my daughter in our arms. Nothing can touch that darkness. I know I will be okay.
But it surprises me still how deeply held the beliefs are around success and failure. I can't help but feel like I have failed. My body has failed. It is not what I want.
My husband has reacted strongly when I use the word "done", "never again", etc. I don't think he wants to rule out another IVF. We froze his sperm for that reason, so we could leave the door open. But, oh, I can't- I just can't- on so many levels. The finances, the physcial and mental toll. I just can't imagine coming to a place where I have the strength to do it all over again. I was supposed to have my follow up consult with my reprod med doctor today but ended up locking my keys, phone, and wallet in the car and have been stuck at home all day and had to cancel my appointment. Maybe the universe is telling me something.
Or maybe this is just going to hard for a while.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
The wait
The wait has gone pretty fast, which I am not too surprised. Between chasing an almost 3 year old, working full-time and my husband ending up in the hospital unexpectedly, it has been a whirlwind. I also planned ahead and orchestrated it all so that a girl's weekend away I planned with 10 other mom friends fell this past weekend which also helped pass the time.
Tomorrow is my quantitative hcg blood draw. I have not peed on a stick yet. I have learned my lesson that it really just messes with my head. I am planning to do a home test though tomorrow morning before going for my blood draw- just to prepare me. Tomorrow is 9dp5dt, so based on my experiences with our fresh IVF#1 and FET #1 I am pretty confident tomorrow's peestick will give me info.
In the symptom department I absolutely feel pregnant. I know enough though to know that the estrogen and progesterone can exactly mimic these symptoms. I have felt nauseous (exactly like I did when pregnant with my daughter), ravenously hungry, moody, extra sensitive, sometimes bloated. Of course, non of this means much due to the cocktail of hormones I am on, but in the meantime it plays with my head.
The hard part about tomorrow is that in the world of infertility there really are only two answers tomorrow- it is either No, you are not pregnant or Maybe you are pregnant- meaning pregnant at the moment, but wait and see. Grrr.. So much waiting.
Today I feel pretty calm. I am glad there is only one more sleep before finding out how this part of our story will go.
Tomorrow is my quantitative hcg blood draw. I have not peed on a stick yet. I have learned my lesson that it really just messes with my head. I am planning to do a home test though tomorrow morning before going for my blood draw- just to prepare me. Tomorrow is 9dp5dt, so based on my experiences with our fresh IVF#1 and FET #1 I am pretty confident tomorrow's peestick will give me info.
In the symptom department I absolutely feel pregnant. I know enough though to know that the estrogen and progesterone can exactly mimic these symptoms. I have felt nauseous (exactly like I did when pregnant with my daughter), ravenously hungry, moody, extra sensitive, sometimes bloated. Of course, non of this means much due to the cocktail of hormones I am on, but in the meantime it plays with my head.
The hard part about tomorrow is that in the world of infertility there really are only two answers tomorrow- it is either No, you are not pregnant or Maybe you are pregnant- meaning pregnant at the moment, but wait and see. Grrr.. So much waiting.
Today I feel pretty calm. I am glad there is only one more sleep before finding out how this part of our story will go.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Back home.
Our embryo has come back home. Today was the transfer. Our last frozen embryo was thawed. And it survived. And it is back in me. Home.
It wasn't until I had dropped my daughter off at preschool today that it became real for me that today was the day. And I began to get anxious. Through this process (and the FET cycle is SOOO much easier) I haven't worried about anything along the way. Until today- our transfer was at 130pm and it wasn't until 930am today that I remembered that it still had to survive the thaw. I was very relieved when the embryologist came back in the room. At least I only remembered a handful of hours in advance, so at least I didn't fret the whole cycle.
Today was much like our last frozen embryo transfer. It was easy. It was quick. It was actually kind of fun. It just is such an awe-some event. To see it on the screen. To know that it was conceived in the same batch as our now almost three year old spit-fire of a daughter. And it is amazing how much love I feel for this embryo. Even moreso this time, than last, I felt a connectedness on a soul level to this 5 day old bundle of cells.
Now we wait. 9 days. I really really hope this last hurrah goes the way I want it to.
It wasn't until I had dropped my daughter off at preschool today that it became real for me that today was the day. And I began to get anxious. Through this process (and the FET cycle is SOOO much easier) I haven't worried about anything along the way. Until today- our transfer was at 130pm and it wasn't until 930am today that I remembered that it still had to survive the thaw. I was very relieved when the embryologist came back in the room. At least I only remembered a handful of hours in advance, so at least I didn't fret the whole cycle.
Today was much like our last frozen embryo transfer. It was easy. It was quick. It was actually kind of fun. It just is such an awe-some event. To see it on the screen. To know that it was conceived in the same batch as our now almost three year old spit-fire of a daughter. And it is amazing how much love I feel for this embryo. Even moreso this time, than last, I felt a connectedness on a soul level to this 5 day old bundle of cells.
Now we wait. 9 days. I really really hope this last hurrah goes the way I want it to.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Injected.
Tonight I gave myself an injection of lupron. I have no idea at this point how many times I given myself an injection, or a pill, or a patch. Too many to count.
I do know that I started this blog 6, almost 7 years ago. And infertility and loss continues to draw me back here to write.
I do know that I have posted nearly 300 posts, not to mention the couple dozen posts that sit in my draft folder, never to be finished or published.
It has been exactly a year and a half since there were IVF meds in this house.
And here we are again.
We actually intended to schedule our 2nd and final FET long ago. But it has been a roller coaster of a year with numerous challenges and stressors and we just never felt like we came up for air. But, we did come up for air, long enough to decide that it is now or never and called our clinic this summer to book an October date.
Since then, to be honest I have rarely given much thought to it other than the bare minimum of making sure I had the meds delivered on time, and the next appointment for this that or the other scheduled.. My husband had to remind me that tonight was the night to start injections as life has been a blur of the start of preschool (how did my baby become a preschooler??!!), start of a new job for me, and the hiring of a new nanny. Life is good right now. Really good.
I am not sure what I feel. I feel like I am just going through the motions- but it isn't in a "I don't care" kind of way. I guess I am not longing and grieving right now as was the case 3 1/2 years ago when we ventured into our first fresh IVF. But, I am not completely detached emotionally either- I think the emotions just run much further away from the surface this time around.
Tonight as my husband and I were refreshing our memory on just how to go about giving the injection, he came over and sat down and asked to pray with me. It caught me by surprise as prayer, sadly, has not been as much a part of our life together as a couple in recent times with the demands of parenting a very spirited toddler. But the stillness of sitting next to him as he prayed welcomed a flood of emotions over me. Flashbacks to the desperation, the hope, the grief, the anger of our 4 years of longing for the child we never knew if we would hold. Juxtaposed to the reality of our toy-strewn living room, with walls covered with preschool art projects from the daughter that I can't even recall what life was like before her. And then comes that longing. That desire. That hope that our family will be more than it is. The slight feeling of guilt that I would ever for a moment want more than I have. The giddyness of thinking about the possibility of just one more- -just one more-- plus sign on a pee stick. The warm, soft, slipperyness of that new baby, the hope realized, being born into our very own hands- brand new to this world, and yet a soul we feel like we have already and always known
But the fear is also there- the fear that a negative will spiral me into a dark place again. THAT dark place again. The fear that this is the end. The final final lottery ticket. The fear that I won't find a way to be at peace with our lil family of 3 being all there will be. That fear is real. It is there. And I guess I am grateful that I am too busy right now to feel any of that- most of the time.
October 13 is the transfer.
IF,....if it works.......(ahg, that is a loaded two letter word).....our hopes would be realized on or around July 1, 2015.
If.
I do know that I started this blog 6, almost 7 years ago. And infertility and loss continues to draw me back here to write.
I do know that I have posted nearly 300 posts, not to mention the couple dozen posts that sit in my draft folder, never to be finished or published.
It has been exactly a year and a half since there were IVF meds in this house.
And here we are again.
We actually intended to schedule our 2nd and final FET long ago. But it has been a roller coaster of a year with numerous challenges and stressors and we just never felt like we came up for air. But, we did come up for air, long enough to decide that it is now or never and called our clinic this summer to book an October date.
Since then, to be honest I have rarely given much thought to it other than the bare minimum of making sure I had the meds delivered on time, and the next appointment for this that or the other scheduled.. My husband had to remind me that tonight was the night to start injections as life has been a blur of the start of preschool (how did my baby become a preschooler??!!), start of a new job for me, and the hiring of a new nanny. Life is good right now. Really good.
I am not sure what I feel. I feel like I am just going through the motions- but it isn't in a "I don't care" kind of way. I guess I am not longing and grieving right now as was the case 3 1/2 years ago when we ventured into our first fresh IVF. But, I am not completely detached emotionally either- I think the emotions just run much further away from the surface this time around.
Tonight as my husband and I were refreshing our memory on just how to go about giving the injection, he came over and sat down and asked to pray with me. It caught me by surprise as prayer, sadly, has not been as much a part of our life together as a couple in recent times with the demands of parenting a very spirited toddler. But the stillness of sitting next to him as he prayed welcomed a flood of emotions over me. Flashbacks to the desperation, the hope, the grief, the anger of our 4 years of longing for the child we never knew if we would hold. Juxtaposed to the reality of our toy-strewn living room, with walls covered with preschool art projects from the daughter that I can't even recall what life was like before her. And then comes that longing. That desire. That hope that our family will be more than it is. The slight feeling of guilt that I would ever for a moment want more than I have. The giddyness of thinking about the possibility of just one more- -just one more-- plus sign on a pee stick. The warm, soft, slipperyness of that new baby, the hope realized, being born into our very own hands- brand new to this world, and yet a soul we feel like we have already and always known
But the fear is also there- the fear that a negative will spiral me into a dark place again. THAT dark place again. The fear that this is the end. The final final lottery ticket. The fear that I won't find a way to be at peace with our lil family of 3 being all there will be. That fear is real. It is there. And I guess I am grateful that I am too busy right now to feel any of that- most of the time.
October 13 is the transfer.
IF,....if it works.......(ahg, that is a loaded two letter word).....our hopes would be realized on or around July 1, 2015.
If.
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