Our first IVF has failed. It didn’t work. It was not a success. It failed. Writing those words has to be one of the hardest things I’ve done in a long time. I couldn’t gauge it. With the IUI, I had a feeling it didn’t work. The count was so low. Even the doctor didn’t have a true look of confidence. But this time…This time it was different. Dr. G. was so excited about our embabies. She called them beautiful. She called them gorgeous. The blastocyst was ready. Its little brother (I assume) was equally beautiful. I knew one or both would take.
I did the pineapple core and POM. I rested after retrieval and the evening of transfer. I was up the next day because the office wanted me up and moving. I didn’t overexert myself. I stopped jogging. I made sure to eat and take my meds. I talked to them. I encouraged them. But the babies didn’t stay. They went back to heaven. They went back to creation. And the procedure failed.
I waited all day for the phone call. When nurse A. called, I dialed S. We’d agreed that we would find out together. And then she said “Unfortunately” and I knew. Less than 1. A negative one. My beta was a negative one. I’m not quite sure how a number can be so empty it’s negative, but it is and it belongs to me. I didn’t cry. I felt a flash of anger and disappointment wrapped in a white hot ball and I embraced it.
When the call ended, I verbalized “I’m done” and I simply shut down my office computer and walked out the door. I drove to a parking lot and sat there for about ten minutes in complete silence. No music. No radio. No words. I just sat there and then I continued the rest of the day.
When S. got home, I didn’t want hugs or to be coddled. I just wanted space…white space, quiet space. I still haven’t received it. I recognize that my husband is grieving too, so we’ve embraced. But I haven’t been able to open up in what I’m feeling yet. I honestly don’t know. Someone asked that I not lose faith.
I won’t. Whatever happens in the rest of this journey, I know and believe that God is my rock and in Him will I trust. I recently saw a young woman in our community curse God the other day when she lost her child at ten weeks. I prayed for her. Her pain was so real and palpable. I know she is hurting and I know she professes to be a woman of faith. I pray that she will be able to seek God again and let Him comfort her in loss and strengthen her is His grace. We were never promised a life without trouble, trial or tribulation. If she is reading this blog, I am praying for you and praying peace for you as well. I didn’t lose at ten weeks. I didn’t get to see the heartbeat or hear it beating with promise. I don’t know that ache nor can I pretend I do. But I loved my babies as you loved yours. I truly believe that there is a purpose in this pain. While I don’t know that we will ever know on this side what that purpose is, I believe that it is for our good no matter how horrible that sounds. And it is okay to be angry and hurt and disappointed. Praying so hard for you!!!
My husband is currently sitting beside me being a wonderful husband. My hormones are a mess and I have been cramping off and on. I’m simply awaiting Aunt Flo’s return. We talk with our doctor on Tuesday to address where we go from here. With no babies making it to freeze, we will have to start all the way over. With most of my medication exhausted, it will be another larger payment that we aren’t ready for. But we will continue. No matter what.
Thank you to everyone for every kind word, every encouragement. You have no idea how much this means to us. I haven’t met any of you. But I consider all of you a part of my journey and I’m thankful to walk with you. God bless you and keep all of you.
I will be in touch.