Some of you have been asking why I haven’t posted in a while, well my friends I needed a little break from all things ‘infertility’. My mind was full and my heart felt like it couldn’t possibly take any more, so I stopped thinking, I stopped talking and I stopped hurting, just for a couple of weeks.
It all started a few weeks ago when we had a regular check with the fertility specialist who in one breath told me I was ready to ‘trigger’ and in the next breath told me that if this cycle didn’t work we would need to sit down and talk about our options. What? What do you mean? What options are you talking about? What?! Spit it out goddamnit!
The dreaded conversation. The conversation that I never ever wanted to have. The conversation, that if I am honest I genuinely never thought I would need to listen too.
For the past 6 months we have been doing ovulation induction with FSH and trigger injections, and I know that in the grand scheme of infertility I am incredibly lucky that thus far, I have been able to steer clear of IVF. I know so many couples are enduring the physical, mental, financial and emotional heartbreak of IVF so I have always thought that we have been lucky that we haven’t needed to go that far yet.
It’s strange, in my heart I truly believed that what we are doing now would work. I would get pregnant, I would have a baby. It’s not the thought of IVF that makes me panic, or what I can only imagine is a horrendous rollercoaster that stresses me out. Nope. Not at all. It’s the thought of no back up plan. Where do we go after that? What’s the next step? I dont know. And that’s what makes me panic.
And panic I did. I left that appointment with tears in my eyes and my heart beating so hard I thought it was going to stop. All of a sudden I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think and I was in the middle of the street having a panic attack. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and I couldn’t breathe. I called my sister at work, had her pulled out of her classroom where she was teaching and as soon as I heard her voice the tears came. And then I could breathe. I lost my shit. In the middle of the street, a blubbering mess with mascara and snot running down my face.
I don’t remember much from that conversation except her saying something that has stuck. ‘If it’s not working you can’t keep doing it, it’s not going to get you a baby’
For some reason that’s the only thing that stays in my mind, it’s true.
I calmed myself down, got myself home and waited for my partner to get home from work. Neither of us thought we were at this point, we didn’t realise that IVF was so close. But it is. There’s no two ways about it. We came up with a plan of what we would do if this cycle didn’t work. Our specialist thinks I should have another surgery to check for any returning Endometriosis since my previous surgery a few years ago, and then we would go from there. Ok, I’m happy with that. But let’s focus on this current cycle we are on at the moment we said, let’s be positive and believe that this one will work and that nightmare of surgery and IVF won’t ever be part of our story. Great plan!
So we were positive, we did all the right things, we triggered and did the deed when we were told too. I ate my body weight in pineapple around implantation time (Google and my fellow infertility friends tell me it’s what you do!) and if I never see another pineapple it’ll still be too soon! I kept my feet warm with Ugg boots (another implantation tale), I begged, prayed, hoped and wished that this one would be it. That I would fall pregnant with our baby. Finally.
I did. It worked.
I begged, prayed, hoped and wished it would stay put, that this was our baby.
On Sunday it started. A miscarriage. Again.
As I sit here in bed writing this, I’m not sure if I will post this or not. I started this blog to write my story, to get my thoughts down and out of my head and so far it has worked. My blog has kept my mind clear, but I’m not sure that it will work this time.
I’m angry, frustrated and fucking pissed off. There are no other words to explain it. It’s just how I feel.
It feel strange not to have the overwhelming sadness that we did back in March when we had a miscarriage, the sadness that try as you might to suppress you just can’t. I don’t feel like that right now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m devastated. I’m lying here in bed miscarrying what could have been and what should have been our baby. But for some reason that overwhelming sadness is being suppressed, by anger and frustration. I’m not silly, I know the sadness will rear it’s blubbering face soon enough and when it does I have no doubt it’ll hit like a tonne of bricks, but for now I’ll keep it away for as long as I possibly can, because dealing with one miscarriage has been the toughest thing I’ve ever done, I’m not so sure how you pick yourself up after two.
So friends, please know that I am thinking of you and sending so much love and ‘baby dust’ for those who need it. I love this blog and will continue to use it as my ‘therapy’ and for telling my story, it’s my fellow TTC friends who can truly understand me right now. In my everyday life, I need some time out of it all. I plan on going to work and coming home to our safe little bubble and that’s all for a little while.
It’s time to recuperate, heal and get back on top, so I can kick the arse out of infertility and show the world who is in control here.
Lots of love xx