It’s been almost a week since we got results. I’ve written this post several times and just haven’t quite been able to make it feel right. It’s been hard to write this post because I don’t feel the things I anticipated that I would feel. I didn’t want to write it in the heat of the moment, but now only a week later I feel disconnected from it. From all of it.
A few days before the “approved” testing days I had started to feel a few things. I had been nauseous at dinner. I woke up in the middle of the night to pee. I was so tired. I was so over emotional it was ridiculous. I had a serious meltdown the day before our dining out event because I scratched my sunburn. They were mostly subtle things, but after so many rounds of fertility treatments any change is immediately noticed. Then all of it stopped. I was sleeping through the night again and not having any emotional break downs. I knew what it meant. Whether the symptoms actually meant pregnancy or just the last bit of the trigger shot, the second they stopped I knew it was over.
I took 3 at home pregnancy tests and every time it was negative. The first one I swore there could be a halo of a second line, but I knew it was my brain trying to trick my eyes. Maybe it was still too early, I thought. After all, both embryos were morulas at transfer so maybe they just haven’t grown fast enough by this point to show up on an at home test. So I went in to the doctor to get a blood test. I knew what the most likely result would be and I tried to prepare myself for the news.
That afternoon I got the call. Negative. My level was 0.86 and this meant it was really true. Even though I was expecting a negative, it still hit me hard. I broke down and cried off and on all day. This was really it, I will never be pregnant. I will never have a baby of my own. I’ll never hear that little heartbeat flutter on the ultrasound machine. Never is a hard word to swallow.
I can’t really put into words what all I felt that day we knew our embryos did not stick. Had they stopped growing right after transfer? Had they slowed down growing between day 3 and 5 because they were poor quality? I’ll never know why they didn’t stick around. I’ll never understand why I have the misfortune of infertility. I had so many questions that would never have answers. It’s certainly unfair, isn’t it? Maybe I just got my diagnosis too late. Maybe it has always been like this and I just never knew. I would give anything to be able to carry a child, but that just may not be in the cards for me.
The next day or two I didn’t feel much of anything. I had been anticipating a major breakdown. I thought I would feel much more heartbroken. But I didn’t. I felt indifferent. Maybe I just needed a few days to let it really sink in that this was really it. Maybe all of my discussions about adoption had already lifted my spirits. After all, being a mother doesn’t have to mean birthing a child. Maybe I was already moving on, maybe I was still in denial. This can’t be normal, I should be grieving. This wasn’t just the end of a cycle. This was the end to all of it.
And then I started to feel something that I really did not expect; relief. It has been an incredibly taxing couple of years and I have felt this great sense of relief that we can just get back to living our regular life. No more doctors and needles and waiting and disappointment. No more two week waits. No more pregnancy tests and “what ifs”. Three years is a long time to be in the “maybe I could be pregnant” mindset. And now it’s officially over. I wont say I never want to do IVF again because never is a strong word. Nature may not allow a successful round of IVF, but I cannot tell you all that I never want to try it ever again.
I am so very grateful for all of the prayers and support I’ve received during IVF. While I deal with all of these mixed emotions I can take comfort in knowing someday I can still be a parent. Whether it’s one more round, a donor egg, or adoption our journey to becoming parents is not over. One door closes and another one opens.