Wednesday, July 14, 2010

3 am, we meet again-

I blog a lot from work now, the graveyard shift here is usually pretty uneventful. It's an interesting feeling, because most of the time I am in a sleepy fog and by the next day I've forgotten what I wrote. It's like shaking my brain and dumping out the contents before I go to sleep. Sometimes I just write the thoughts down, save them as a draft, and don't publish them at all. And that's good too. They aren't usually very coherent anyway.

Of course, the shift being so quiet does mean that I'm left with time to research, wonder, and stew. That is, right now mostly I read my adoption books, I wonder if this treatment cycle will work, and I stew about my situation. The book I'm reading is still giving me lots to think about, and I'm still considering older child adoption. I'm almost done with it actually, and I have a few more at home to get through someday. I have plenty of time, since we won't be doing anything anytime soon anyhow. No rush.

My ovary area is kicking still, I am still pretty sure ovulation happened yesterday. And it's just still sore today, is all. Who knows, my basal body temperature is totally unreliable this cycle... again. That is one thing I'm going to chalk up to as being "super annoying" on Femara. But I felt it, I had the trigger shot, and I know that last time I did. So I'm going to try and stay calm this time around.

Stewing... hmmm. Well, with my last miscarriage I would have been due in three weeks. I realized that today... and while I know I wasn't as expectant with that pregnancy, already knowing it was over before it began, well... it's still hard. I still wanted it, very much. I mean, otherwise I wouldn't have used injections and had an IUI. I very much wanted it. But I knew it wasn't meant to be. I knew from the spotting, from the low beta, from the start. It was my shortest lived pregnancy yet. I had resigned myself to it's inevitable end before the nurse even told me. But the upcoming due date has still caught me off guard. It's still difficult for me.

I miss my babies. I don't get to say that very much anymore, because people expect me to be over them. And it gets awkward if I say anything. Especially after three. Apparently the more you have, the more you should be used to it- and over it. Which, I gotta say, is not the case. Each was unique and wanted, each loss was felt for what it was. A loss. But people get really awkward if I say anything, and sometimes they stumble over what to say and get a case of foot in mouth disease or I get the silent treatment... so I don't mourn them as publicly anymore. It's easier in some ways, but harder in others.

I'm getting frustrated with myself, because just as I started resigning myself to never getting pregnant again... I find myself thinking about what it would be like. I find myself looking ahead and wondering what it would be like if this cycle worked. I actually have a chance at pregnancy again, because I've ovulated 4 times on meds since my surgery. And I might keep responding the the medicine even... there's a chance. The more times I respond to the medicine, the more times I have a chance at pregnancy. Hope creeped back in... and it makes me feel pretty masochistic.

Now I know that it can be wonderful, and we need hope- but after everything I've been through, this isn't something I want hope in. I don't want to care anymore. I don't want to keep going through this. I want a definitive exit date. And I know I can't give myself one if I keep having chances to get pregnant. At the same time, I still want to get pregnant (but only with a viable pregnancy damn it!). I still want that experience. I still want to know what a baby with both our genes would look like- whose eyes, whose hair, whose smile...

I'm just very worn out from all this, and I want the journey to be over. That's all. I want a resolution to my infertility. And I can't make a conscious decision to end it, not quite yet. In a few months, maybe. But not yet.

See, sleepy me is all discombobulated and probably not making much sense.
That's how I feel sometimes- like nothing makes sense anymore.


Celia said...

I would never expect you to forget your babies. I never forget our first baby. It is a weight that I feel and strangely, my husband feels it more now that Peter is here. He is sadder now, seeing what could have been but wasn't.

My father's dearest friends adopted an older girl after 15 years of secondary infertility. said...

I totally get the talking about losses and people not knowing how to respond. So I rarely do it either these days which hurts too.

I also want an end date to finally be done with this battle but I feel like if I made one I wouldn't want to keep it once the date arrived.

Woot for ovulating!!!

A Decade of BFNs said...

Never forget. They are a part of you. They are yours.

I am hoping w/ all the hope one can hope that this one is it for you.