A Kick in the Gut

Tonight I am feeling a new kind of numb. Infertility has dealt me yet another low blow. A new kind of low blow.

This morning as I sat in my paper dress waiting for the doctor to come in, I just knew deep down, as I have known for the past week, that I should not get my hopes up. Things just didn't feel right. Dr. D came in, and asked where I was in my cycle. I am 6 days late;18dpo. Then in went the dildo cam. I didn't see anything. Nothing in the way of a gestational sack. "You have a lot of cervical mucus." Thank you. I know. "Your right ovary looks good. So does the left. I don't see any sign of a corpus luteum on either of them. If you are pregnant, it's too early to tell." And then the dildo cam came out.

Dr. D then launched into what we can do next cycle. I should have known. I kept interrupting him to ask if there was any way he could tell by the sono if I was pregnant. It was like he was ignoring me by continuing to give me options for my next cycle. I felt like he was jumping the gun, but as I left his office I realized he was trying to get out of telling me to my face what was (or wasn't) going on.

He ordered an Hcg blood test, and told me the results would be back between 2-4. I put my clothes back on feeling so completely deflated. I didn't have any more answer after my appointment than I had had all week. I got my blood drawn, and walked back out to the car with Hubs. I knew. I just didn't want to admit it. Hubs agreed.

There has only been one other time in my life where I knew the news I wanted wasn't coming my way, so I went home and slept until the dreaded call came. Today was the second time in my life I tried to sleep away my wait. I woke up long before the call and watched TV with Hubs for a bit. Then at 3:30 we went to pick up his truck from the shop and take it to have the tires rotated. While we waited, we went and grabbed some early dinner. Of course while we were eating is when the phone call came.

BIG FAT FREAKING NEGATIVE.

Of course.

Infertility, you win again.

I cried for a bit, but tried to keep it together because we were still eating and still had to go back to get Hubs' truck. Just then he got a call that his truck had been hit in the parking lot of the tire store. So instead of being able to go home and bawl my eyes out, I had to hold it together while we went over to take care of his truck.

I'll spare you the details of the rest of the day, but I can say that this is definitely one of the worst days of my life. The thing that makes it even worse is that had AF shown up last week like she was supposed to, I would have moved on with nary a tear. But no, those dammed estrogen patches had to go and screw me up so bad AF couldn't rear.

I am so angry with my doctor tonight. Why didn't he tell me this could happen?

I am angry with God, as much as I hate to say it. But I am because I know somewhere in this world some woman who shouldn't be allowed to have children just got knocked up. I just know that if my goldfish really tried hard, he could will himself immaculately pregnant. Yet here I am, once again, deep in the trenches of infertility, despite my best efforts to keep from being here again.

I am angry. I am bitter.

I am feeling a level of bitterness completely foreign to me.

I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to throw in the towel and count my blessings. I thank God for the one darling baby I do have. There are definitely benefits to having only one child. And sometimes I am content with leaving things this way. But part of me laments the thought of not providing her with a sibling. I also try to live my life in such a way that I have no regrets. I have lived that way since I was a teenager. So I don't want to look back 20 years from now and regret that I threw in the towel and quit trying. Between those two things, I know I have to soldier on.

Soldiering on is easier said than done though. Especially in moments like this. The numbness that has set in is indescribable. I feel like I am just going to go through the motions from here on out, completely hopeless. Just doing things to be able to look back and say I tried, but keeping myself emotionally distanced from all of it. No hope. No despair. No life.

I just don't feel like this is going to happen for us again. Perhaps that is the part of me that got stung today. But I feel deep down that I am going to go through all of this and having nothing to show for this round except a hormonal wench with a drained pocket book.

Everything that gave me hope the last week was all just a ruse. None of it was a good sign like I thought it potentially was. It was all a lie. How can I ever believe my body now? How can I ever get my hopes up again?

I threw out all of my pregnancy tests tonight because I just can't handle that aspect anymore. I.Just.CAN'T. I won't. This pain is hard enough to handle without them mocking me from my bathroom cabinet. "I bet your goldfish is pregnant, and HE lives alone. Loser!"

Right now, I can't handle any of this. I forgot how brutal this was. I forgot how things like this suffocate all hope and snuff out the tiny light. My light, its out. The wick has been cut below the wax so that it can never burn again.

I know what I have to do, and so I will do it, but I don't have to pretend I have hope. I will buy the sensor for my monitor. I will wear ONE estrogen patch (as opposed to the 2 that halted AF in her tracks this month) starting on CD 8 (who knows when the hell that will be). I will go see Dr. D on CD10 for my probing. I will do the deed on the appropriate days. And then I will wait for the inevitable ride on the cotton pony.

At least I will be able to say I tried.