The Tears

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.

Done.

It was negative.

We are done.

More thoughts when I have the energy to face this.

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.

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.

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.

Overwhelmed

Sometimes I find myself wondering what being a mother would be like if I had not gone through the dark road of infertility, miscarriages, waiting, doubt, and despair.  Sometimes I try to compare my reality as a mother to other mom's who got pregnant easily, on schedule, or even ahead of schedule.

I know there is no comparison.  It is isn't possible to compare. Because I only know my own experience. But I still wonder.

My nephew was visiting last week and we enjoyed ourselves as a family being tourists for the week, seeing the sights in the city that we don't usually take time to enjoy.  There is a huge fountain downtown that I have walked past before, or stopped to watch it spray water into the air, but hadn't given it much more thought than that it was nice to walk by.

At the end of a long hot summer day in the city, we passed it on our way to the car.  When M's eyes lit up when she saw it, we put her in a swim diaper that we happened to have in her bag and let her loose for some spontaneous fountain play.  As I sat on the edge of the fountain watching DH and M splash and squeal, tears welled up in my eyes, catching me by surprise.  

The gratitude I feel that I am a mom, that I am M's mom, still overwhelms me at times.  I can't help by think What if she never came in to my life?    I can't speak for other moms and how they feel about the way their children came into our life, but I know for me, for my journey, this is the gift that infertility gave me.  I know that I do not take it for granted that M is in my arms.  And an unexpected run through the fountain stirs up that gratitude from the deepest of places -  because I know what it was like to walk by that fountain before I had M.  And I am beyond grateful for the chance to spontaneous let her get soaking wet in the fountain on the way to the car.  

Because I came so close to not ever having that chance.

M sleeps a lot.  It has worried me for a while.  But there were no other red flags to really give me reason to worry.  I brought it up to her dr. in late winter.  She wasn't concerned, as she was on target and developing well during her awake times.  Last week I took M to her naturpath to talk nutrition because her quantity of sleep is still off the charts for "normal".  I was just tired of worrying.  She took some blood work, just to check a few things.  We found things she wasn't looking for.

We have been referred to a couple of specialist.  More bloodwork was taken today by M's other pediatrician (MD).  The docs are alarmed, but clearly trying not to alarm us.  It could be a perfect storm of several minor things that look worse on paper than they really are.  But it could be scary stuff too.  The doctors aren't being casual about following up on it.

I am scared.  I am trying not to be.  

I know it may be something that will be a game of watch and see before we know if it is anything to be afraid of.

But I am scared-   I am the most afraid I have been since I found out I was pregnant with her. The doctor asked during today's appointment if I have any questions and I said no.  No because I don't want to know anything more right now.  I know the scary stuff they are concerned about.  And until we have more information from this round of bloodwork, I don't want to hear them say out loud what they are afraid it might be.

 Updated:  We got the bloodwork results back today, earlier than expected.  Almost all of the abnormalities are back in range.  No real reason why.  Possibly a virus that she was fighting.  One lab value is still concerning so we are being referred to a hematologist, but for now the scary stuff is behind us.

This is one week i'd rather not repeat.

Coming up for air

I am coming up for air since the grief of our negative FET.  It was rough.  Rougher than I expected it to be.  But healing from it, and coming up for air, isn't nearly as tough as in the days before my daughter M was in my arms.

Babies are being born ALL around me right now    I have gained an amazing community of first time moms with children the same age as M.  But the consequence of that is that they are (almost) all starting to have #2.  Three have been born in the last 4 weeks.  Two more are due soon.  and three more are due this Fall.  That familiar feeling is still pretty close the the surface-  that feeling of your breath being pulled out of you when a pregnant woman walks into a room, or when I watch M gently stroke the back of a 1 week old baby in adoration.  I feel the old grief lurch in side.  But it most definitely has been healed some by the joy that M is in my life.  I delight in her.  I delight in being her mom.  And i find peace in that amidst the fertility that surrounds me.

For a while after our negative FET, I had to step back and give myself a space from all the bellies and babies.  But as time goes on, now I find myself in a space where I see my friends with bellies bursting, chasing toddlers who are throwing tantrums, and those with newborns trying to breastfeed, and recover from the birth, and meet the needs of their toddler, and I find myself NOT wanting that. It makes me tired just thinking of that being our life.  I am guessing that it is only a defense mechanism.  Maybe it is my emotions way of telling myself that it is okay in the end that I didn't get pregnant.  It is probably just the way my heart is finding a way to cope.  But right now-  I am not longing at all to be pregnant or to have another baby.

Part of me is grateful to this coping mechanism, as it is allowing me to just go on with life.
Part of me finds it disturbing to loathe the idea of pregnancy and a new baby so much.  What kind of infertile person loathes the idea of getting pregnant and having a baby!?  

When we got the result, I immediately went into goal setting mode telling myself that I was going to lose another 15 pounds before our next FET.   Seven weeks have passed, and I have accomplished nothing.  My motivation has been non existent.

But I am telling myself again, that I am going to find my motivation to commit to losing this 15 pounds that I had gained during our infertility journey.  I am proud of my success in losing all of the pregnancy weight.  I just want to be a bit more healthier.....if....when...we try again...for the last time.

We are aiming for our last FET in September.  I told DH that I needed some time to have my body back. To grieve a bit.   And I also wanted to lose this weigh.

Part of me worries we are waiting too long-  as the clock is ticking.  And if it DOESN'T work we don't have any easy next steps-  adoption or a fresh cycle would both take a lot of time and a lot of money to put into gear.

But the other part of me has ZERO interest in dealing with anything related to IVF.  ZERO.  I am tired.  I want to play this summer, and I am plenty content with life right now.

So we will see-  I have yet to actually schedule the date-  but that is what we are aiming for. Hopefully my heart catches up with my brain by September.