I started writing a post on Saturday about how everything was going fine and how excited I was to be putting this infertility bullshit behind me. I also wrote about still having fear that something was going to go wrong, and also some weird feelings of sadness of knowing this would definitely me my last and final pregnancy. I never finished the post.
On Sunday morning I woke up to see blood clots in the toilet. I rushed in for a beta test and had to wait around all day to get the results that the beta #s were not as high as they should be and that I should come back on Tuesday for another blood test. Really?! So you want me to go along with my normal routine thinking I am still pregnant?! I basically asked the nurse to please just rip off the fucking band-aid and tell me that this is fucking over and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. She told me to prepare for the worst. So. Fucking. Awesome.
So my Christmas IVF was a total bust. The only 3 “good” embryos were actually no good after all. I am in disbelief.
And now we start over. It’s beginning to feel like a way of life now. But the hardest part is not the process of IVF. It’s not the needles, medications and endless doctor’s visits. That part is easy in comparison. The truly heart-wrenching , exhausting, miserable and terrifying part of this is the unknown. You have no idea if any of it is going to work. There are no guarantees. And in the meantime, your friends get pregnant with their 2nd and 3rd babies. You might put your career on hold, because who wants to start a new job with more responsibilities when you are an emotional and physical wreck? You save the baby clothes and maternity clothes and you wait. You wait and you hope.
I look ahead at 2012 and wonder what it has in store. IVF#3, IVF #4, IVF#5? Will I turn into a joyful mother of two, or a heartbroken mother who didn’t have the chance to have a second child because her body failed her?
In the end, we have Lily who is perfect. I am already joyful. She brings us more joy than we ever could have imagined and I would always consider myself blessed to have her as my only baby.
I would be OK with one. I would just like the power to decide.