I am devastated and heartbroken. I was so hopeful for you and J. I am so angry at how unfair this is for you and the rest of us. Treat yourself kindly.
I'm so terribly sorry. I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. It's just so fucking unfair. I'm so incredibly pissed that this didn't work out for you. Just pissed and sad and shaking my fists at the universe at the absurdity of it all. Grrrr. I mean, I know that it's all of this and more for you, but just know that I'm with you and that I feel for you and that I'm punching air for you down here in NC.
Bust open the wine, girl. Rent terrible movies and then take them back to the rental store and bitch at the clerk for having such crappy movies. Look up people who were mean to you ten years ago, and call them up and rip them a new one. Sit in your car and honk the horn and scream until the neighbors call the police. I mean, you're probably more mature than me, but that's what I'd do. If you want to scream at someone, you can call me up and scream at me anytime you want (3369234242). I mean it. Any time at all.
Uggggh! It is beyond frustrating to have such a cycle fail -- but a "textbook" one failing is a special kinda shitty in itself. I am so, so sorry to hear this.
Hang in there, lady! I'll be around, too, when you get around to getting back on the treatment horse. Until then, go easy on yourself -- and join me in sipping plenty of (virtual) frozen margaritas.
So very, very sorry. I can't help but get mad all over again when I think about how difficult the whole IVF experience of hopeful expectation can be -- how it can let us down so hard after so many encouraging signs...
I'm 36 now, and the clock is most definitely ticking it's fool head off. Started TTC in June 2005. We bought our first home in April 2004, and now it just seem silent and empty and waiting for the family we planned to fill it with.
Natural conception (finally!) in March 2006. Miscarriage at 5 weeks. (Oddly, my sister, who was in her second trimester, miscarried only 3 weeks earlier.) More TTC, no luck. Just charting and stressing and a ruined sex life.
Started IF treatment in September 2006. So far, nothing but two more lost pregnancies, an ugly scar across my bikini line, a drained bank account, and another year older. Have been facing depression, despair, manic research on adoption, more depression and despair at discovery that adoption seems even harder than trying to make your own baby.
Trying to find some hope and joy in life. Maybe in the spring, when the flowers start to bloom? But it almost doesn't matter--depressed or not, broke or flush, I can't stop chasing that elusive baby....
May 2008: Another BFP! Another embryo that fails to thrive. Another early miscarraige.
April 2008: Start frozen embryo transfer with the two runners-up from the last cycle. Not terribly hopeful one of them is going to make it, giving what happened to the other three.
April 2008: Big Fucking Negative. Unbelievable.
April 2008: Retrieval and transfer. And now we wait....
March 2008: Begin 3rd IVF cycle.
January-February 2008, healing, waiting, not terribly eager to get back on the roller coaster.
December 2007: Open myomectomy to remove fibroid. (Turns out I'm not ready to give up just yet.) THREE small fibroids removed, not just one. Endometriosis that I didn't know about found on ovary and "zapped"--apparently this is a medical term.
November 2007: Emergency vacation! Apparently people CAN be so sorry for you that they offer up their vacation homes in Puerto Rico for free!
October 2007: Become obsessed with adopting RIGHT NOW! Go to wonderful information session on international adoption. Considering Ethiopia.
September - October 2007. Finally start bleeding and formally "micarry". Still have to go to doc's office every couple of days to track very slowly dropping beta numbers.
September 2007: First methotrexate shots didn't do it--repeat 2 weeks later. Have to try to explain to radiology department that I don't know how to answer the question "how far along are you?", because pregnancy ended two weeks ago, but still isn't quite over.
September 2007: micarraige due to ectopic pregnancy. Horrible pain, have to drive myself to the ER (husband out of town), where I learn that smashingly successful embryo has settled in fallopian tube. Methotrexate shot.
August 2007: PREGNANT! And with really high beta numbers! Maybe, just maybe, it didn't implant next to the fibroid. Maybe if we can get through 3 months we'll be safe.
August 2007: mid-cycle, learn that fibroid has doubled in size, likely due to stims. Concern that pregnacy, if achieved, will be very risky. Decide to go for it anyway, rather than freeze embryos.
August 2007: Begin second IVF cycle
June 2007: Repeat visits to RE's office to check blood, because beta level's won't drop. Concern about ectopic pregnancy. Go up for fancy sono, but nothing's there. Feel like I'm being punished having to go to doc's office early in the morning every other day when I'm not even in a cycle.
May 2007: First IVF cycle. 11 embryos, all fertilize with ICSI. Transfer 3 at blast. None survive another day to freeze. Results: POSITIVE (but then why am I bleeding?) Two positive tests--which means 6 days of "pregnant", before confirming miscarriage. (They call this a "chemical pregnancy". I called it "I guess you CAN be a little bit pregnant.")
December 2006: Third IUI cycle. Again: BFN. Take it pretty hard, as it comes right before due date from lost pregnancy.
November 2006: Second IUI cycle. Learn about fibroid, but RE says it's small and not to worry. Result: BFN
October 2006: First IUI cycle. Convinced that it would work (after all, we got pregnant once without it!) Result: BFN
September 2006: first visit to RE
June 2006: TTC again
April 2006: Miscarriage (after only 2 weeks of knowing I was pregnant). First time I saw a doctor for this pregnancy was when I lost it.
March 2006: PREGNANT! Huzzah! Sign up for weekly e-mails on my baby's development, start looking for baby names, freak out because baby is due 2 days before Christmas
7 comments:
I am devastated and heartbroken. I was so hopeful for you and J. I am so angry at how unfair this is for you and the rest of us. Treat yourself kindly.
Oh no.
I don't know what to say, because words can't fix wounds like that. I am so heartbroken for you.
Oh hell. I'm so sorry.
Oh, no. No no no. This is so unfair, and my heart is broken for you.
Please take special care of yourself, and be easy on yourself.
I can't even tell you how sorry I am. The best I can do is send you out a virtual hug and let you know that you're on my mind.
I'm so terribly sorry. I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. It's just so fucking unfair. I'm so incredibly pissed that this didn't work out for you. Just pissed and sad and shaking my fists at the universe at the absurdity of it all. Grrrr. I mean, I know that it's all of this and more for you, but just know that I'm with you and that I feel for you and that I'm punching air for you down here in NC.
Bust open the wine, girl. Rent terrible movies and then take them back to the rental store and bitch at the clerk for having such crappy movies. Look up people who were mean to you ten years ago, and call them up and rip them a new one. Sit in your car and honk the horn and scream until the neighbors call the police. I mean, you're probably more mature than me, but that's what I'd do. If you want to scream at someone, you can call me up and scream at me anytime you want (3369234242). I mean it. Any time at all.
I'm just so incredibly sad for you. Fuck.
Uggggh! It is beyond frustrating to have such a cycle fail -- but a "textbook" one failing is a special kinda shitty in itself. I am so, so sorry to hear this.
Hang in there, lady! I'll be around, too, when you get around to getting back on the treatment horse. Until then, go easy on yourself -- and join me in sipping plenty of (virtual) frozen margaritas.
So very, very sorry. I can't help but get mad all over again when I think about how difficult the whole IVF experience of hopeful expectation can be -- how it can let us down so hard after so many encouraging signs...
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