Sink Hole
I feel like I've been swallowed by a sink hole. It's deep, it's dark, I can't see...can't breathe.
1,126.163 days ago, I entered the surreal world of infertility. Tubes were checked, sperm were counted, hormones were graphed, ovulation test sticks were peed upon, powerful drugs were taken, both orally and by injection. Embryos were created, embryos were lost. Major surgery was had...all in the quest for a baby.
Six months ago, I was confident that enduring major surgery was going to be the answer to our woes.
I was wrong.
You know that you're reaching rock bottom when you say with great weariness "Honey, we have to have sex tonight" and you both approach it like some grim chore, not much more pleasant than cleaning out the litter box.
Still, that was better than lying on a table under flourcent lights with your thighs in stirrups trying to think pleasant thoughts, while a catheter containing your embryos is inserted into your uterus in the hopes that it will stop being hostile long enough to let at least one of them to settle in and take up residence for the ensuing nine months.
Then there was the waiting. A couple of weeks of grossly inflated hopes, trying to convince yourself that this would be "the one" that took...only it never was.
We may not be doing medicated cycles, but for the past 6 months we have been trying...really, really trying...and the waiting...well that's still the same.
January...we waited. There were a few days of positive home pregnancy tests...followed by a few days of negative tests...followed by my period. February, more of the same. April...well looks like it wants to follow in the footsteps of it's older friends, January and February. Only...I thought this was the month...this was "the one" that took. I allowed a few positive urine soaked sticks fool me into believing this was possible. That bubble burst last night when the glarinly white space of a stupid little stick stared back a me.
That empty white space threw me head first, straight into the sinkhole. You would think that your survival instincts would kick in and you'd dig and crawl your way out to breathe...
Only...
I don't want to do that.
I want to stay in this sinkhole...crying, kicking, screaming and clawing at the walls until the pain goes away.
1,126.163 days ago, I entered the surreal world of infertility. Tubes were checked, sperm were counted, hormones were graphed, ovulation test sticks were peed upon, powerful drugs were taken, both orally and by injection. Embryos were created, embryos were lost. Major surgery was had...all in the quest for a baby.
Six months ago, I was confident that enduring major surgery was going to be the answer to our woes.
I was wrong.
You know that you're reaching rock bottom when you say with great weariness "Honey, we have to have sex tonight" and you both approach it like some grim chore, not much more pleasant than cleaning out the litter box.
Still, that was better than lying on a table under flourcent lights with your thighs in stirrups trying to think pleasant thoughts, while a catheter containing your embryos is inserted into your uterus in the hopes that it will stop being hostile long enough to let at least one of them to settle in and take up residence for the ensuing nine months.
Then there was the waiting. A couple of weeks of grossly inflated hopes, trying to convince yourself that this would be "the one" that took...only it never was.
We may not be doing medicated cycles, but for the past 6 months we have been trying...really, really trying...and the waiting...well that's still the same.
January...we waited. There were a few days of positive home pregnancy tests...followed by a few days of negative tests...followed by my period. February, more of the same. April...well looks like it wants to follow in the footsteps of it's older friends, January and February. Only...I thought this was the month...this was "the one" that took. I allowed a few positive urine soaked sticks fool me into believing this was possible. That bubble burst last night when the glarinly white space of a stupid little stick stared back a me.
That empty white space threw me head first, straight into the sinkhole. You would think that your survival instincts would kick in and you'd dig and crawl your way out to breathe...
Only...
I don't want to do that.
I want to stay in this sinkhole...crying, kicking, screaming and clawing at the walls until the pain goes away.
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Gosh I hate this so much for you Janet! I am hoping that all you have went through is the storm and the sunshine is going to be following quickly!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, Janet. I hate that you have to go through this at all, let alone over and over again. Thinking of you and hoping better days are ahead.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry you are going through this. I wish you could get some answers as to why this keeps happening. I've been there, and I for one have a really hard time with 'just bad luck' explanations. You have every reason to want to cry and scream, it's totally unfair. I wish I had more than words to offer. I'm sending warm thoughts your way and hoping better things are headed your way. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteI am so so sorry for what you have had to go through. YOu have every right to feel how you feel. Life is so unfair. Why do we have to keep abusing ourselves, both physically and mentally to have something that comes so easy to others. I really hope you can find out what keeps causing your chemicals and get a sticky one very soon. Best of luck to you ~Baby Dust~
ReplyDeletei am so so very sorry, janet. you have every right to feel what you are feeling and grieve. you will remain strongly in my thoughts and prayers, xoxox
ReplyDeleteJanet I am so so sorry this is happening to you! I wish I could give you a huge hug right now!! Does you RE have any answers to why you keep having CP lately? I am thinking about you and praying so very hard for you all the time. You will dig yourself out of this because you've already done it many other times. But for now you don't need to do anything. Kick, scream, cry and do whatever you need to let it out. I'm here for you.
ReplyDeleteOh Janet, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how tough that must be, seeing the two pink lines and then them being gone. Awful. Stay in the hole as long as you need to. Know that you're not alone down there.
ReplyDeleteThere has got to be a reason why you keep getting false positives. I would say that they are Cp's, but they aren't even that because a cp has to show up on a blood test. I couldn't take this kind of heartbreak month after month, no one should have to :( I think I would never pee on a stick again as long as I lived. The word sink hole doesn't even begin to describe it. I hope you can find your way out soon.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry. I hate this world of infertility and I hope you don't have to be going through these ups and downs for much longer... I hope you find your way to the surface soon.
ReplyDeleteSink hole. I get it and I'm sooo sorry. There was a story on the news tonight about a dad who shot his 2 month baby on their couch. Makes me rage because I will never, never, never understand why good people like you and me don't have babies... Yet undeserving people do.
ReplyDeleteI hate infertility.
Please take this advise with a grain of salt ....
ReplyDeleteI've never been lucky enough to have false positive or a chemical pregnancy ( not sure if it would make me feel Better or not). But after 7 rounds of IVF and two DE cycles we moved on to a GC and are approaching our transfer. My GC has been on lupron for suppression , along with Estrace and baby aspirin. When I asked why the baby aspirin..... The nurse responded it helps with implantation and Reduces the risk of a chemical pregnancy. When I responded with , " she's not at Risk for a chemical pregnancy and had no implantation problems and she's never had a miscarrage before - the nurse responded by saying ..... Excellent the baby aspirin will keep her on tract!