When It's Hardest
This isn't how it was supposed to happen.
I sobbed these words over and over
into Scott's chest last night as we lied in bed.
I knew it was over before it began.
The first few days after our transfer
I was on top of the world.
Every moment of every day I just felt
I was pupo.
I had life inside of me
I could feel it in my bones.
I imagined our lives everyday with this baby.
What Christmas would be like with a bump
what cute maternity outfit I would wear.
Who would visit us in the hospital
what color our nursery would be.
I filled my mind with the most
positive thoughts, there was never any doubt.
On day 5 I started to get antsy.
I was expecting to be feeling something at this point.
and I wasn't. There was nothing.
and then the questions on my IG account
started to roll in.
"When will you test?"
"Are you waiting until beta?"
The fear slowly crept in when I realized
that for the past 5 days I had thought of nothing else
in the world besides this embryo being our baby.
The one we would take home.
Our plan from the beginning was to wait
until the day of our beta and take
a digital that morning together.
That way we both knew and we weren't
waiting around all day on the call.
But on day 5 I started to get excited.
I wanted to see those pink lines.
I wanted the joy to last as long as possible.
So Scott and I agreed we would stock up
on FRER and begin testing.
The first test I took was a left over test from god know when.
It was a blue dye test.
I was so nervous those entire 3 minutes.
I'm pretty sure I said the "Our Father" prayer 100 times.
when the timer went off I took and deep breath
and looked at the test.
"Where is the other line?"
"WHERE IS THE OTHER LINE?!"
I screamed at the test as
the tears rolled down my cheeks and
the pain in my gut sharpened.
It was negative.
I had a moment or two of panic
and then decided to talk myself into the
"it's just too early" mind frame.
an hour later I happened to glance at the test
and just as I know you suspected
a faint line had appeared.
A damn evap line on a damn blue test.
God I hate those things!
I buried it in the trash and went about my day.
by 4 pm I decided to see what the FRER had to say.
and much to my surprise she had the same answer
as her stupid blue test brother.
Hope slowly fading
By day 7 I just knew.
I just had that feeling deep inside
that it didn't work.
all of my hope is gone.
I read the words people wrote,
they were all so kind and encouraging.
But it didn't make me feel better.
In fact, for a moment I got angry.
I didn't want false hope.
The hardest part about this journey
is all of the emotion you put in to each
and every cycle.
you pray, you wish, you hope.
and when your hope fades
you turn to the internet to find
"the stories" of "the ones" who made it
the ones who have the outcome your looking for.
You give yourself false hope to ease the pain.
Not this time. I knew I couldn't do it this time.
after five years I am tired.
I am tired of hoping.
I know miracles happen every day.
But I am tired of hanging on to my hope
by a single thread that I know in my heart
is destined to break.
at this point I felt like I was just peeing
on the sitcks to get them out of my house.
I wasn't antsy waiting those three minutes.
I didn't hold it up to the light or take it apart.
I waited for the results
and then I moved on.
My guard is up and my heart is prepared.
I know the answer.
I just have to wait until Friday for the final say.
I didn't test.
I only had two left and they were both digital.
I think at this point reading the words
would have been worse than
just hearing my sweet nurses voice.
My blood drawl was early
my nurse was excited to see me,
more excited than i was to see her.
She is such a sweet sweet person
and I knew the moment I saw her I wouldn't
be able to hold back the tears.
She had so much hope for us.
I told her as soon as I sat down
that I had been testing.
She looked sad.
but she said some really amazing things.
That made me remember why this is all so worth it.
If anything we got answers out of this cycle.
We know I have plenty of eggs.
We know that I have some good eggs and some bad.
We know that this isn't the end.
There is more that can be done.
We can keep going.
We have the parts.
We just need to make them work.
It's a little after 1pm and I'm still waiting on the call.
The call I know will seal the fate on this cycle.
I'm 98% sure I know the outcome.
Hopefully they won't make me wait much longer.
So where will we go from here?
I'm really not sure.
part of me wants to be done.
Just move on with our lives with out children.
But the other part of me cringes at the thought
of living a childless life.
Only time will tell, as it always does.
Thank you for being here,
Thank you for reading and commenting and encouraging me.
Just. Thank You.
Until next time ♥
ps...If your into drinking games...Take a shot everytime I said the word "hope"