I’m still fucking sad.
I saw Dr. Hope on Thursday. I told him the HPT (home pregnancy test) was negative and that I just did not “feel” pregnant. He assured me that all hope was not lost and wrote a prescription for a blood test. Sometimes, he said, HCG levels take time to rise and show on a HPT.
I left with renewed faith – this could still work. To pass the time until the results came in, Mr.Husband and I took his mom to the Cincinnati Zoo. It did not occur to us that zoos are teeming with families. Everywhere I looked there were moms with babies, moms with toddlers, moms with other moms. I spent a lot of time looking at my feet, trying not to breakdown because ALL THESE PEOPLE were fertile.
At 4 p.m. we stopped and called for the test results. My HCG was 3. It has to be 5 to be even a tiny bit pregnant. The rest of the day was shot. Once home I let loose. I honestly don’t remember the last time I cried that hard.
I felt anger, sadness, hopelessness, fear, regret, worry and hatred. It was not a therapeutic cry. I had so many emotions rolling around in my head that it was hard to make sense of any of them. The only realization that came through the tears was this:
Had I known I was infertile I would not have gotten married.
I know, I know. This is a terrible thing to think/type. It shook me to the core. Even more disturbing is that after calming down I still feel it.
Know that I do not love my husband any less. I do want him in my life. However, had I known three years ago that infertility was the hand I had been dealt, I don’t think I would have hung my career out-to-dry. I don’t think I would have moved 400 miles away from my friends and family to build a new “family oriented life.” I don’t think I would have gotten married at 30.
Had I know I was infertile we would have played our cards differently. We would have been long distance longer. I would have looked for a publishing job in Ohio and commuted. I would not have bought dining room furniture that is durable, sensible and ready to seat kids. I would have done things differently.
This is a rough thing to realize, especially right after a BFN. I cried myself to sleep Thursday night and today I don’t feel a whole lot better. To top it off my period arrived this morning with vengeance, squashing any remaining hope for a pregnancy this cycle.
Today I’m still sad. I’m sad for the choices I did and did not make. I’m sad for the five eggs that are leaving my body unfertilized. I am sad for the child that will not happen in nine months. I am sad for the money we spent. I am sad for the hurt I have caused my husband and mother-in-law. I am sad that I passed up a glorious mid-century modern dining room set (not really! Well, maybe kind of!).
Despite all this, my cards have been played and I cannot change what is. So I am letting myself be sad and with each passing sad day, I feel a little more hope. I hope that my doctor can see us this week to discuss the next step. I hope we can find the time and money to try IVF, which comes with a higher rate of success than just throwing sperm at eggs and crossing your fingers. I hope that a little assistance from science can help us cheat our way out of this infertility hand and put my boring, sensible dining room table to good use.