Days have passed and still it doesn’t seem real.
A little over 2 weeks ago I was so excited to see two faint pink lines that I thought for certain my life was finally turning directions. A few days later the positive line wasn’t getting any darker and my gut told me something was wrong. Nearly a week after the first positive the news of our inevitable early pregnancy loss was given while I was driving home. This pregnancy was not viable. Likely due to an abnormality that stopped its development days after implanting. And no matter how much my gut told me something was wrong, I wasn’t ready to hear it. I am still not ready to hear it.
I dream that the tests were wrong and that in a little less than 8 months this bad dream will end. But, today I began to spot. My period will arrive within the next day or two and with it that life that once grew inside, even for such a short period of time, will be lost…gone forever.
My heart is heavy and my desire to do anything is gone. It’s hard to get out of bed in the morning, to go to work, to eat, to pretend my dream hasn’t been stolen. There are a million “What-Ifs” running through my head. And I often find myself on the verge of tears…and most of the time I’m unable to stop them.
Mornings are particularly difficult for me. I have a constant reminder of our loss when I wake to the lack of progesterone injections. And it’s hard for me to think of anything other than what could have been.
This lot in life I’ve been handed is wildly unfair. Loss is difficult for all women, whether they deal with infertility or not. But for women who do not have the issues my husband and I do, trying again can happen whenever you are ready. That is not the case for us. In order for us to try we will have to come up with another $6,000 and go through 6-8 weeks of preparations and procedures for one shot at a frozen embryo transfer (thank God I had plenty of embryos we could freeze for later use). And as with this last cycle, no guarantee.
I’m in a weird place, and not sure how long it will take to grieve. I’m not ready for phone calls. It’s too hard to talk.
I realize there is potential for life in my frozen embryos. And I’m thankful for that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need time to work through the one situation I wasn’t prepared for…pregnancy with no baby in the end.