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Wow.  That’s all I can say right now…just…wow.  I was completely bowled over by the outpouring of support from everyone.  It’s so amazing to have this community throw its collective arms around you to let you know you’re not alone.  I don’t posses the writing skills to appropriately express what that meant to me.  Thank you to LFCA for the post and for allowing us to all connect in a better way.  You are all priceless.  Thank you a million times over.

So…it’s been a long time.  There was lots of crying, lots of emotional bargaining, lots of anger, lots of sadness.  There was an arduous two-week waiting period for a natural miscarriage that never came about.  There was the eventual D&C.  Then right after that there was the HUUUUGE misunderstanding about a Rho.GAM shot, its overall need and implications after a D&C.  (The nutshell version of which is: I am o negative/RE nurses called morning after D&C saying DH needs to get blood test ASAP/ I need this shot ASAP or my body could develop antibodies that will kill off any future pregnancies/We have a keystone cops misunderstanding about how blood test will happen/I have a mental breakdown/DH takes over and I get my shot the next morning…aaaand scene. ) I took medical leave off from work which was the BEST decision ever.  I read about so many women who took two weeks off and went back to work.  I give them my sincerest props.  I know me and I sure knew I would need more time than that.  The few days before I took off I almost lost my mind at work.  Literally almost had a mental breakdown.  I was also right in the middle of finals at school.  So, yeah, no pressure.

I think that’s one of the big things I learned over the past few months:

Know your limits.  I could feel myself breaking down.  I knew I was mentally fraying…emotionally just not able to cope.  I had held on and tried to fight through for so long that having the rug tugged out and dealing with the aftermath was new territory I was not prepared for.  Even though I thought I had it under control…I didn’t.  I honestly thought work would be a distraction.  Wrong. I thought I didn’t deserve to take six weeks off.  Wrong.  Work and certain bonehead co-workers were poison. The time off was required.

It gave me time to re-evaluate and to gather myself.  I slept…a lot!  I cooked.  I cried. Cuddled with hubby. Slept more.  Retooled my résumé.  Went to the salon.  Cuddled with hubby AND doggie.  Got my nails done. Went to visit my family out west…which was a panacea in some ways and in other ways a ring of fire I needed to walk through.   All in all, the time off was a great decision. Not just for the physical recovery from the D&C, but the mental recovery from a solid marathon of fertility treatments and procedures.  Even though I am not thrilled with my job at all, they were very understanding and supportive.  In the end,  it’s a job.  It’s not a great job, it’s not right for me, but I need to bite the bullet so we can afford all this insanity.

I also learned after all of this….I can be a tough bitch when I need to be.  Nothing like finding out you are going to miscarry your first pregnancy and then going to ace a final exam that same night.   Nothing like putting on a smile in public when you see those pregnant ladies sashay by in their cute, yellow maternity tops.  You give that look that says  “Aww, look at you!” while you feel like a useless, steaming pile of shit.  Hey, fake it ’till ya make it.  I’ve made it through surgeries, procedures, treatments, shots and blood draws, good news and bad…and I’m still standing.

Anyway…

I am doing better.  It’s still so hard sometimes.  If I let myself think about it, the tears come so easy. I think it’s a healthy mix of avoiding it sometimes or facing it as the flood of emotions come and go.  But, I have a squeaky clean resume.  Some college credit under my belt.  Hubby and I are eating better and started running together on the days I don’t have classes.  We are working hard and moving forward.

Now, we are here.

I have one more FET.  Four totsicles to transfer.  AF is here…that horrible ho.  I start BCP’s tomorrow and have a tentative FET date of October 13th.

Thanks again to each one of you wonderful, inspirational ladies!  To those of you who have had losses…my deepest and most sincere sympathies.  You have all bravely shared your journeys, shared your advice your success and your pain…you have helped me understand that none of us, not one of us, is alone.  From the bottom of my heart…Thank You.

We got the news today that our baby has stopped growing.

I was fairly certain this past weekend.  I literally felt the symptoms leave me…sore boobs: gone, nausea: gone, lethargy: gone, appetite: gone…and all seemingly overnight.  This made my weekend a weekend of mourning.  I mean, you know you have hit rock bottom emotionally when you find yourself crumpled in a heap on the floor in tears begging your dying embryo to “please grow”.  I have to admit I have been flabbergasted by the waves of emotion that have swept over me.  I thought I had sufficiently prepared myself to handle this.  I read the stories, I did the research, I mined the data…I was fully aware of what was happening to me and that it happens to women all the time.  This did nothing to lessen the wallop of grief that has hit me like a semi truck.

We spend so much time scared we may never get pregnant.  When that day finally comes and you see those two pink lines, the fear does not abate.  The thing I am glad for was giving myself the permission to enjoy it while it was real.  I made a deal not to buy a single thing until well into the second trimester, but I looked at pictures of nurseries online, signed up for weekly emails about what was going on with the baby, daydreamed about waking up to a screaming peanut at 4 in the morning and seeing my husband holding our child at last.  I don’t regret these actions or daydreams…I earned every single one of them.  I am so glad I gave myself that slack and didn’t spend every hour waiting for the other shoe to drop.  (Little did I know I would be doing that enough at 8 weeks.)

What next?

After meeting with Dr. C yesterday, we discussed our options for closing the chapter on this roller-coaster cycle.  The three options: let nature run it’s course, take a pill to induce miscarriage, or get a D&C.  My initial gut reaction was D&C.  It was like, “Get. it. over. with”.  But having around a half hour to think it over…we opted for mother nature’s course.  She’s been so absent from every single part of my infertility treatments that it felt right to step back and just let this happen.  Unfortunately, we don’t know when this is going to happen.  I am walking around wearing the heaviest flow pad I could find just in case it begins earlier than expected.  I will most likely take FMLA work leave and regroup mentally and physically from this as I feel ground down to nothing.

So, now we wait.  I am a little scared of what to expect.  I’m afraid this will be physically painful.  But, it feels like the right call for us.  If nothing happens by Tuesday of next week…well, then we call and go in for the D&C.

All in all, we are grateful for the glimpse of pregnancy.  We are happy to know that at least I CAN get pregnant.  At least this process works.  We made progress in that respect.  It still hurts like hell, but that knowledge at least eases the sting a bit.  I thank you all for your support and your comments.  I am stepping away for a bit on this blog to regroup, but I will be checking in with everyone from time to time to see how you’re all doing.  Wishing you wonderful ladies all your heart’s desire!  Thank you.

Cyclesista

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