BFN aka Tell Me What I Don’t Know

Clinic called yesterday and to no surprise of mine, the test was negative and I am not pregnant.  I told them I had my period but they insisted on the blood test anyway. Super.  Thanks.  Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?!

I sat and waited for my ill-fated pregnancy while my SIL gave birth to a baby boy.  I got my period on her due date.  The irony of this is not lost on me.

I am alternating between shock and anger.  But just a little anger because as soon as it comes I block it out of my head.  I think about ANYTHING else.  Because I know if I let it, it will take over.  It will be all encompassing, black-out hysterical rage and sadness…and I just can’t handle that right now. I have a job (literally, my full time one) to do.  I have to keep functioning for now.

For now.

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Alternate Reality

I am living in an alternate reality.

My currently reality is one where everyone (I swear EVERYONE) is pregnant and we are not.

I am currently unable to handle this reality and am choosing to live in an alternate one.  One where if I deliberately, consciously, and carefully do not think about reality and my own miserable and hopeless situation then I can almost breathe.

Almost.

With a Vengeance

*TMI Warning*

My 14 days post-IUI POAS was a resounding BFN. The light blood was steadily increasing in intensity. 

I called the clinic and they advised to continue the progesterone and wait until the beta test on Tues. “Just in case”

Friday it became full AF, complete with clots. Friday night I gave up on the progesterone and any remaining hope. 

Friday was also my SIL’s due date. Isn’t that nice? Ha. The universe has a sick sense of humour. 

So IUI #6 officially failed. I didn’t have a ton of hope, only 1 of the previous ones had worked, but it still hurt. 

I did spend a good chunk of the day ugly crying in my car. Thankfully the people I work with tactfully pretended they didn’t notice.  

I think I have now reverted to a weird, numb sense of disbelief and self-preservation. 

This is the end of the road friends. If not completely, then for a while. 

My Rose

I bought the Rose at the start of the last IVF. 

Rose, we will grow together. 

I gave her her very own pot, a place to grow.  I added more soil and I tended it with care. I moved her to the sun when she didn’t look so well and I watered her with love. 

I thought if Rose can grow, maybe I can grow too. 

Maybe if I tend to everything with love and care, give it a safe place and water it and feed it just right, then maybe, just maybe I can grow a baby along with Rose. 

Somethings grow, and somethings don’t. 

  

Blood & Bones

I am 13 days post IUI. I am also cycle day 28. The day my period normally arrives with a vengeance – if I wasn’t on progesterone suppositories. I just saw a couple of pink spots of blood on the toilet paper. I have cramps.

My heart would love to believe that’s implantation pain and bleeding. 

My brain knows otherwise. 

If I had a sharp object I would stab myself just to feel pain and not numb. 

Dear Baby

Dear Baby,
I was thinking about you today and wondering how you are doing, wherever you are. Did you keep growing in Heaven? You would be almost a month old now. I wonder what you look like, are your eyes blue like mine? Did you have blond hair like your dad? I think you were a little girl. We named you Amal, the Arabic word for Hope. We chose this because you were the baby we were so hoping would make it to term. Also your mommy and daddy used to live in the Middle East and we have such great memories from there. We had hoped to take you there one day.

I wonder if you would have been a good sleeper or a fussy one like your dad? Would you have shared our love of food or been a picky eater? 

Our little dog Chester would have loved you and protected you. He always barks when he sees babies heading towards the stairs. It’s very cute. He loves to cuddle, you would have loved his soft fur. 

I hope you found your brother and sister. Jonah would be one by now and Daisy just three months. I hope you can play together and don’t forget to share your toys. 

I am so glad that you never felt pain or fear or even a moment of hunger or cold. 

I miss you.

Until I can hold you in my arms, I will hold you in my heart.

Love always,

Your Mom