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I am letting myself be sad



Photo by Belle. Ducklings at a local pond Mr. Husband and I visit regularly.

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.

I hope.



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  1. Mo #
    August 21, 2011

    Oh hon, I’m so incredibly sorry. I know how much this sucks.
    It’s also normal to question your decisions. Hell, after my second loss I had a complete and total breakdown which lead me to question every decision I’ve ever made ever. But I promise you, this too shall pass. It gets better, and easier, and a time will come that you will stop questioning your decisions. I promise.
    Huge hugs!

  2. August 21, 2011

    Thanks Mo, I know I will get used to it in time. I know I wil adjust and I know we will live if it never works. It is just so damned exhausting during. Thank you for your kind words on my last post, too. That was a terrible, no good, bad morning. They are getting better. Y’all make it easier!

  3. August 22, 2011

    Hold on to that hope Belle.. sometimes it feels as though it is the best emotion we can dig towards.

  4. August 22, 2011

    I’m so sorry to read this. Your sadness. It’s so hard and I wish I had something to say to make you feel better. I’m really sorry 😦

  5. August 23, 2011

    😦 I’m amazed you can write about hope after a day like that. It is really terrible to be cut down so hard and so fast. I hope by now you are feeling better…

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