I am still spotting. Still only when I got to the bathroom, but this is not terribly uncommon for me. I almost always spot before my period begins. I wish I could say I am taking this in stride, that I have faithfully turned my despair into hope. Rather, I have not been able to stop crying since last night. My sister called me right after I first discovered the spotting and I was so distraught; she suggested I seek professional counseling. What does she know? She is five years younger than me, probably 100 pounds thinner than me and more concerned about getting her boyfriend to propose. She is not even sure she wants children.
I am trying to pull myself together. I have been reading some encouraging posts online. But, after the intense hope, after seeing the little follicles and knowing that I ovulated, after knowing we had sex at the right time, how can I not be floundering in the depths of despair? The crash can only be as great at the height of hope. Flaco and I got into a fight last night. I felt he was being calloused and uncaring. He thought I was just crying like a ninny again, unreasonably so. I don't know what to do with my pain. My despair eats away at me, it drags me down and down and down. My heart is shattered and I fear I cannot find the pieces to paste it back together again. I should keep myself busy, keep my mind from wandering. But, all I can think about are those loving hands I envisioned holding my embryo baby, curling into angry fists, crushing and pulverizing my dreams into dust.
Again, I am angry at God. What is the point in all of this horrific suffering? Am I a modern-day Job, being tested for my faith? Hardly. Because I am not the only woman out there suffering with infertility. I just so desperately wanted this to be over this month. How perfect? We go one month to the Infertility Doctor and wham-o! We are pregnant. How incredibly wonderful! But, alas! It is not to be. Our journey has not yet ended.
So, Monday morning I go back to the Infertility Doctor and tell him I want him to test my fallopian tubes to see if they are open. I must go fill the prescription for the metaformin and suggest we try it in combination with the Clomid. I need to determine if our health insurance will continue to cover these treatments. Right now, my heart is not in it. I don't care. I don't want to care. I look as awful as I feel; my eyes are puffy and red, my face is swollen, my nose is runny. My head hurts and my heart aches. And I can't stop crying.
There is not much to say, but I do want you to know I am here, reading and supporting you and sending love your way.
ReplyDeleteNo, there is not much that can be said. I know this lonely road and I know in a few days I will be feeling more "normal." What hurts the most is that for the longest time I felt like this was it - if we didn't get pregnant than we were out of luck, it's all over, the end. But, it is not the end, we are just taking a different road at the moment. For now, I take it one painful day at a time. . . . Thank you for your kind words and support.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could take away your pain, but I know it doesn't work that way. I am so sorry you are going through this. Try not to take Flaco's response to heart...men have a funny way of dealing with disappointment (can we say "denial"?). I'll be thinking of you and hoping that putting your next plan into motion will help ease your pain.
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