I'm sitting here alone in a quiet house listening to a clock in the kitchen tick away the seconds. Minutes pass, hours go by, days keep moving by us and it feels like time is running out. Running away from us. Panic. That's what I feel. Sheer panic. Throw a little fear in there and you have my soul right now. Quiet in the house, dark destructive loud chaos in my spirit. We are running out of time. Whether it's my biological time or my emotionally able time, it's running out. I'll be 32 this month. I have a few years left of "prime fertility" (which is clearly SO prime) before my fertility starts to decline (doesn't have far to go, right?) and you get into the ages of more likely miscarriages, birth defects, etc. I can't believe it. Sometimes I wish I could go back seven or so years and punch the 24 year old me in the face for being such an idiot about pregnancy and marriage, "I don't know that I'll ever get married and have kids. I love being an Aunt and who wants stretch marks? ick." Oh to wish stretch marks were my biggest fears these days. I was so in denial of what I wanted because I was so afraid of it. Sure, I wanted a husband and a family but I was terrified of being dependent and weak (which is how I viewed marriage at the time) and of "destroying my body" because I was in such great shape. How completely ignorant can a person be? I guess it was also immaturity and not being "ready" for what life was about to bring my way....Rik. Thank God for him. If it wasn't for him, some days I don't think I could get out of bed. He changed my life and I like to think I changed his as well. We needed each other and God couldn't have sent a better man into my life to help me through what was heading our way. I highly doubt I've been the pillar of strength for him that he has been for me. Eating my words on the dependent and weak situation these days. No idea how this post turned into this heap of stinking emotional garbage, but I've been wallowing in it for a few days now and I want you to smell horrid with me, I guess. Back to my point....which I guess I just made which is that I'm at my emotionally able limit, or will be soon. Does that make me a quitter? The doctor said give it six months post-surgery because those are your prime months of fertility after having endometriosis resected. The thing is, I didn't have it bad enough (or in the yuckiest places) for it to have a huge impact - negative or positive. We are in that beloved gray area. You know the place where people look at you with bewildered faces, slightly pudgy cheeks and look much older than they should because the stress of the situation is aging them at an alarming rate. Yep, that's our stop. Unexplained Infertility. Another failed attempt. I have officially lost my hope. Each time we've gone through this, each time we've tried to conceive, I've let myself hope. I've let myself crawl out of the dungeon three or four days into it to start the next cycle and somehow, I end up thinking this is it. During the two week wait, I let my body convince my mind that every twinge I feel is a sure sign we're pregnant. It's a total mind screw. It's not healthy. Rik is here and he is wonderfully supportive but he has so many other things he can focus on that sometimes, I just feel alone. Not because he's not here for me by any means, it's just that I feel like I think of it more because I have nothing else to focus on really. Up until now, I've never had that feeling. I mean, honestly, we started the fertility plan because he wanted to. I wanted to start with adoption. How have I left this "possibility" suck me in and keep me going month after month? We said three IUI's to start. Then we had surgery and the doc said give it six months. So here we are still chugging along. Up and down the emotional ladder like we're stuck in hell and this is our punishment. To climb up and down this ladder that is thousands of feet high. I'm exhausted. I'm defeated. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I'm just........inside out. I literally feel like I have been ripped at one of my seams and turned inside out. All my sensitive spots are exposed. I tested Thursday morning. I knew it was negative before I even tested, I only did it out of necessity. I had all the signs of unpregnancy. One line. Negative. I crawled back in bed and went to sleep for another hour. Numb. Not shock or bewilderment or disappointment, just numb. I got up, got ready for work, kissed Rik good-bye and headed to work. I got to work and started my day as usual. Then my Mom called and wanted to discuss how we could generate more revenue for "baby money" and I told her I couldn't talk about that because I had just found out about our BFN. She meant well, but after another 20 minutes of discussion about IVF costs, adoption, fostering, etc., I had to let her go. I hung up the phone, laid my head down on my arms and literally felt months of HURT rush up to the surface. I couldn't stop the tears. I cried and I cried and I cried. I couldn't stop it. Luckily, my office door was closed so you couldn't hear me unless you happened to walk by...unfortunately, someone did and wouldn't you know who came to check on me? The 7 month pregnant girl in our office who is accidentally pregnant. She knows what we're going through and I do love her to death, but wow. Rubbing my back with her belly in my face didn't help. I couldn't even look at her. I ended up asking my boss if I could take a personal day and ended up leaving work because I could not pull myself together. I called Rik before I left and told him I couldn't get myself back to the upright and locked position. He was sympathetic as usual. I think he forgot I had to test that morning so I threw him off a little calling him sobbing. Poor fella. There isn't a place you can go that makes you feel better when you feel like your heart is being blown to smithereens. I went to a place in the park that usually makes me feel happy and peaceful. It just made me think of things in a more painfully clear manner. This is probably not going to work for us. With each passing IUI, our chance of conceiving decreases. I sat there and cried some more. Feeling 150% sorry for myself. (obviously, I still am) Sitting on that bridge, shivering in the cold, my feet dangling over the water, I just wanted to scream. Then I noticed there was a leaf on my shoe and so I kicked it in the stream and watched it float away. I feel like that leaf. Floating along, no clue where I'm headed, getting stuck in the muck then swept up in the current again, finding myself in a bottleneck now and then, waiting my turn to eek through....I don't know how much longer I can do this. I try to be positive, I try to feel upbeat. It's getting harder each month to do so. This week, I had three different people at three different places (two of them were at new doctors offices I've gone to) give me unsolicited advice or thoughts on infertility. Why do nurses feel the need to tell you a success story they've heard about just because they read your "Meds" list and see the reason you're on the medicine is due to "infertility"? Why do people think telling you to "stop thinking about it so much" or "relax and stop stressing about it" or "God will give you the desires of your heart if you are just patient".... He may not. Ok? God may not ever give us a child. Show me one place in the bible where God says, "Hey, I will give each person that comes into this world a child or their own." Why do people say this to me!? Is it because they don't know of anything else to say?! Relaxing will NOT get you pregnant! You try NOT thinking about a disease you have that is altering the path your life takes forever! That's like telling someone who had an arm amputated to stop thinking about it. I feel like a part of me and my life is being carved out, amputated, removed, eliminated, erased, forgotten. Hearing a success story is great, but don't get your feathers ruffled when all I say back is, 'They must be so excited' in a pretty monotone voice. I can't fake excitement for your cousins friend who tried for six months to conceive, gave up and then got pregnant two months later because they "weren't stressing anymore". Yes, they were. If you're TRYING, you're stressing. And no offense, but 34 months of this crap (Mom, I used crap there for you but it is NOT what I wanted to type in this situation!!!!!) is plenty patient and if God needed me to be patient, He should have given me the gift to start with because that is not something I excel at. In my case, patience doesn't get you pregnant. Relaxing doesn't get you pregnant. Sex doesn't get you pregnant and apparently reproductive medicine doesn't get you pregnant either! So don't mind me if I'm unfriendly, if I glare at you for even opening your mouth about how miserable you have it because your kids are out of school and driving you nuts, if I don't shoot confetti out of my rear end when you announce your 21 year old just had her 3rd child ("maybe you should sit next to my daughter because all she has to do is look at a man and she gets pregnant" - Yes, bring her in and I'll dry hump her to be sure I get all kinds of her fertile mojo all over me!), if I yell at you for doing everything your doctor told you NOT to do while you're pregnant or if I beast cry at the most inappropriate times and make you really uncomfortable. I'm fighting a battle of bloody epic proportions in my heart and mind and soul and I don't really have a lot of energy left to spend on niceties, false or otherwise.
I know it's not Thursday so pardon the vomitous eruption of emotions here.....I had to get it out and while I am probably not even close to done, I feel like a negative parasite and should probably wrap this up before I suck every happiness and hope out of any of you still reading this jumbled, garbled deluge of self-pity.