My emotional state yesterday reminded me of the day I called my friend M, while sobbing and stuffed into the bathroom at the seamstress shop with my to-be-altered wedding dress, a few weeks before my wedding. “It’s all wrong,” I cried. “We’re supposed to be HAPPY and not arguing! We’re getting married for God’s sake!” After giving me a moment to let it all out, M (in a kind way) laughed at me. “It’s OK,” she said. “This is all normal, I promise.”
She was right.
Yesterday however turned out to be anything but a normal day.
The pregnancy is already over. My number went down.
We questioned if I did too much over the weekend, if the mopping of the floor was too much, if the watering and weeding put me over the edge, if our fight yesterday morning contributed to the lack of peace in my womb. Should I have just sat my butt down, lulled into serenity by a warm blanket, a book and soft kisses?
My man got the call and brought himself to my office to give me the news personally, so we could hold each other. I think he’s tired too.
I’d like to tell you about our adopted embryos. They come from good stock. Junior Olympic swimmer, tennis player, baseball player, healthy, happy. Seemed a totally perfect fit. I’m just so sorry it’s not worked out. I’ve been pregnant 4 times: once 14 weeks, once 7 weeks, once 3 weeks and now 2 weeks. Not sure what we’ll do next. Nothing, something, adoption, use the last 2 embryos we have, I don’t know.
I wonder if our house will be too quiet. I wonder if we need to invite more children into our lives. I wonder if this is how it’s meant to be. I wonder if I’ll mistakenly talk baby talk to a dog, making everyone around me gag. (I promise, I won’t.)
I have to find something good in all this, I just have to.
Infertility treatments and clinics are in the business of hope. For us, nine years and tens of thousands of dollars worth of hope.
“Hope is such a dreadful word.” That’s what an old poet said to me once, on the beach. I think there’s some truth to it.
I agree about the "Hope" thing ... In the area of infertility at least. I always wondered at what point someone would just tell me "Ok ... you're done ... stop trying already". But no one ever did ... I only heard "just keep trying" "It'll happen" blah blah blah.
ReplyDeleteWhen we finally sought medical help, we had a stop point ... we defined it and what we would do at that point. For us, the decision to be a family of two was the only thing that was a definite "no". We wanted kids. The only other decision was "how". At 43, I was told outright that my options were minimal and the time to make a decision had really come (and mostly gone).
I'm so sorry about the recent outcome. I hope you can find a path to parenthood that works for you.
Thank you for your support, Merri Ann. It's interesting to look back on some of the info we got and choices we made as a result. They thought my issue was the age of the eggs, so we picked a donor who turned out to not be a good donor (she was a new donor with no track record but great health etc). I was told I'd have no problem carrying the pregnancy. Now that doesn't seem to be true either. We likely would have looked at adoption years ago, saving us surgeries, miscarriages, time, a drain on our emotional health. You raise the important question: when do you stop? how far do you take it? With modern science, this line keeps extending out/up, as long as you are willing to pay or go through more and more procedures. It's painfully hard to CHOOSE to say no/stop, when there are possibilities, and hope, out there.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry, my dear. I don't know how you know when enough is enough. I hate things with huge emotional impact and zero empirical data.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. I don't know why i didn't see this earlier. Praying that God will soon give you the desires of your heart....
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