I sit down on my bed. Tears form in my eyes and I shake my head as if to clear the last three minutes from my memory. Like that will reverse time and I can still be the same person from three minutes ago. But it doesn't. I am still holding the negative pregnancy test. The box of tampons I had to pull from the closet are sitting at the edge of the bed where I put them. I can't go back in time.
They come now, the tears. I can't stop them. I can't hold them back any longer. My body has failed me. Again.
Trey is downstairs. I can't tell him yet. I need just a few minutes to grieve by myself. I need a few minutes to lose my strength, to be a mess before I can tell him. I can give him those few minutes that I couldn't give myself. I can let him hope just a few minutes longer.
Two weeks later and it's fall. My favorite season. Or it was. I'm not sure that I have favorites now. I have work and I have shots and I have medicine and I have tests and I have more tests and I have tears. None of those are my favorites.
I snapped at Trey today. There was no reason. No reason at all. I felt bad afterward and I apologized and cried (there is a lot of crying on my part in this house nowadays). I told him I was sorry because when he married him he didn't know he was signing up for this. He didn't know his wife would turn into this monster...and that it will only get worse. I am not the same woman he married. And I apologized for that.
There haven't been a lot of good days lately. A lot of heartache and heart break. A lot of anger, mostly towards myself though I occasionally do yell some choice words to unsuspecting drivers.
I feel anger towards the people I see who have babies. Or small children. Or really any size children. I want to ask them how hard they had to work to have those babies and if they deserve them. But that's not fair. To them or to me.
I am angry at family members who didn't react how I hoped they would, or who didn't react at all. I am angry at (ex) friends who don't think before they speak and say hurtful things, whether on purpose or not. But mostly, I am angry at myself. And that's not fair, either.
This is not an easy journey. It's not even a hard journey. It's an impossible journey. It's a journey that you can't imagine yourself taking until you are already in it-whether you want to or not. All of us on this path have no idea what the end will be like. We climb painful and difficult hurdles only to wonder "Is it going to get worse?" "Can I survive worse?" We take devastating blows and yet still get up to face the next impossible task. We are beaten up. We are tired. We lose hope. We lose reason. We lose a lot. It's an overwhelmingly emotional journey.
But we're not done. Not yet. We still have a lot of options, which means there's a lot of room for more heart break and more sadness, but there's also a lot of room for happiness...and maybe still a little bit of hope.
Next steps for us:
Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) and a last round of taking the Letrozole/Ovidrel
If you're reading this and you're on the same journey, but not yet ready to talk about it, I would highly recommend checking out RESOLVE: the National Infertility Association (www. resolve.org) and liking their Facebook page. There is a lot of information on their website and many locations have peer support groups.
If you're a family member/friend of someone suffering through infertility I recommend these two articles:
Family and Friends PDF