Tuesday, July 17, 2018

It's hard to give up.

     Tuesday morning in Myrtle Beach and I was up and ready to go have my blood taken to be tested. I followed all the directions, I did not test at home, I was ready to hear the good news. The lab tech that  took my blood was not very "gentle" and I remember thinking, "I am not scared of needles, I can give myself injections! But OW! That really hurt." I didn't even think about the ugly bruise that would form reminding me for another week of that blood test....
     The blood was sent from Myrtle Beach to Florence, South Carolina and the lab tech assured me that she would call the lab there and make sure my results were labeled STAT. She knew they would have results by 3:30. So I let my watch get to 4:30 before I called my doctors office. I should've realized what was going on when I called three times with no answer and no recording to leave a voicemail. About 3 minutes later and my doctor was calling me back. I still had all the hope in the world and just knew I was about to hear great news. She asked if I had tested yet and of course, I replied no! I mean, part of the directions are not to test yourself- if my doc knows anything about me, she should know I FOLLOW DIRECTIONS. 
     Then my world crumbled and immediately I promised myself I would listen to every detail and memorize every word. And now I realize- I don't want to remember every word. I don't want to remember that feeling. I don't want to keep feeling that over and over. I don't want to keep hearing, "This is not the news we hoped for" and "your HCG was below 5, so you are not pregnant." I wanted to leave the heartbreak in South Carolina. I tried to leave the sadness and I tried to keep the tears from following me home. 
     You are told before and during the transfer process that the success rate is 50%. I knew there was a chance this wouldn't work- but to me, it was silly to think it wouldn't work when we were so careful and deliberate. I had a plan that I was prepared to follow if we got bad news. Guess what, I didn't follow it. I guess I never thought I would need it. I did go get a pedicure while Lucy took a nap the next day- so I was seeking some self care. 
     The explanation was nothing. I did nothing wrong. My estrogen levels were great, I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do. (DUH) My doctor suggested the embryo was flawed and my body knew was it was doing when it didn't allow implantation to occur. Even though it was an embryo-I felt that momma bear reaction of "Not my embryo, there's no way there was anything wrong with my embryo." The embryologist was so confident with our embryo. So in my mind-my stupid body cannot even create a baby after we controlled as many aspects as possible. 
   The good news is...we had an amazing trip. Lucy's discoveries were off the charts! She talked about every moment and every experience. She asked to go to the beach to build sandcastles EVERY moment we weren't there. :) She had an amazing time. She didn't have to worry about a mopey mommy- I didn't feel like crying when I was watching her little mind go a million miles a minute. 
     It's the moments in between. It's when I get to thinking too much while I'm driving. It's the moments I'm trying to fall asleep before the sleep aid kicks in. The stupid moments when I think of what could have been and what should have been and how stupid my ignorant body is and how much I hate it. It's devastating and absolutely painful and it's agonizing to think of those that are suffering from worse heartbreaks because this is MY worst. 
Somehow, maybe because we aligned all the variables and planned all the details, this is the worst. It's $6,000 gone. It's one less embryo from our frozen bundle. It's the plan that will never be.
   And now, I don't have a plan, I don't have a back up. As soon as I got home, I hid all my medication and supplies away in the top shelf of a closet. I want it all to disappear. I can't think about next steps because I'm afraid I don't have any. That was it. We used over a year to plan, save, commit, schedule, prepare and pay for that cycle. That failed cycle. The failure. And that just kills me. 
     I cannot imagine the mommas that go through that failure before they have a Lucy. Thank goodness for Matt's 'keep going' attitude and the unwavering support. Thank goodness for a Lucy- just when I thought I couldn't possibly love her anymore and now a whole new kind of love gets thrown on her. Thank goodness for friends and family who send love and check on me. All the support- irreplaceable. All of the love for this little family from my big family is just beyond words. So thank you, and I love you guys. <3


This, this is truer than true.
A Letter to my Embryos that didn't implant