This week has been tough, to say the least. Though, to be honest, what week isn’t tough when you’re suffering through infertility? Especially infertility following loss?
My husband & I didn’t get the news we wanted to when I took my HPT (home pregnancy test) after the TWW (two week wait). That’s two weeks post IUI (intrauterine insemination). Ok, I’m lying. It wasn’t one HPT that I took…I think it was more like 6?…& guys I. saw. a. line. On all of them. So did my husband & he is legit colorblind. That’s not just a funny thing that I say for a laugh or as a punchline; he is literally diagnosed colorblind…I waited until I was 12/13 days past my Ovidrel (or trigger) shot to test. This shot is self-administered (or in my case neighbor-administered – she’s a nurse so y’all can chill – & I was red-wine-drunk because ya girl was nervous asf) at home about 48 hours before the insemination is to take place. Its job is to signal the eggs to release; aka ovulation. Turns out, 12/13 days post-shot is just a wee-bit too soon. My frantic Googling on the interwebs last week informed me to expect that the shot could potentially remain in my system anywhere from 10 – 14 days. Which is problematic in that it can give you a false positive. Which, of course, it did. Over, & over, & over again. We can’t all be Ginnifer Goodwin. Meaning, we can’t all be the exception rather than the rule. I’m the rule. Period. End of story.
I can’t quite articulate the rollercoaster of emotions of seeing a positive pregnancy test after a loss. It’s…indescribably painful & triggering. And then to watch it totally disappear? The extreme disappointment or total & mindeff of going from the highest-highs of hope & joy to the lowest-lows of confusion & depression. My head hurts. All the time. As does my heart.
I came home from work on Tuesday & wallowed. My period had started, & there was officially & unequivocally 0.00% hope left for this cycle. I sunk into my couch & sobbed long & hard. I felt downright sorry for myself hours, & hours, & hours on end. I scared myself with how desperate with despair I felt, to be honest. All I saw & felt was darkness. Like that moment right before you pass out. Do you know the moment that I’m talking about. Everything gets really quiet & eerie while also simultaneously loud & piercing? And then everything just goes soft-white, then grey around the edges before it fades to black? Completely black. Like an old T.V. set shutting off & sizzling with exhaustion. Except this time, I was totally conscious & aware for the soft-white, grey sizzle into pure blackness. It was deeply upsetting & lasted for longer than I can truly pinpoint. Which is actually pretty frightening. Eventually, I crawled out of the blackness. I always do. I don’t really remember how I did it this time, though. I have great friends, & a wonderful husband, a dog, & support. Lots & lots of love & support. I know that. I’m lucky. I know that, too. But I don’t know wby I scratched & clawed out of the blackness this time in particular. I guess only because you have to, right? What’s the alternative? Well, it’s not good & I’ll leave it at that. All I know I was done done trying & had made that very clear to everyone including my amazing husband. And then I just slowly woke up from it all. Whatever unraveled or unhinged inside of me to allow me to spiral so fast & so deep got “clicked” back into place; & I started to come up for air again.
It’ll be okay. We’ll keep going. We always do. We always have & always will. You have about a 10% – 20% chance of success (pregnancy) after 1 IUI. Your chance of success goes up to approximately 30% with 3 rounds. It can get up to about 80% with 6 rounds. IF IUI is going to work for any given couple, it will happen with 3 or 4 rounds. Most of the time…*sigh*
That’s the insane thing about this journey. I am not an overtly positive or optimistic person who looks at things “on the bright side,” or “trusts in the process,” or believes that “everything happens for a reason” (because it doesn’t & that phrase is shit & should just die, already, okay?). I have always been very angsty, moody, an “in my feels 24/7” type of person. (The aughts were the perfect time for me to be an adolescent.) I’ve carried that angsty-ness well into my adulthood. So much so that it just a full-fledged part of my personality now. (Chicken or the egg, amirite?) But…
…with all that being said…I still believe. And hold onto hope with everything I’ve got. And…breathe. Because I have to. Well, I don’t have to. But I choose to.
I may be small (4’10”) but I’m mighty & strong & will continue to fight infertility-after-loss like the stupid, evil, cruel bitch that she is. Even though it’s not even remotely fair. And breathe, just breathe.
~ As always, thanks so much for reading. Much love, & hope for a return of the light.
‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable / And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table / No one can find the rewind button, girl / So cradle your head in your hands / And breathe, just breathe / Oh, breathe, just breathe
Anna Nalick “Breathe (2 AM)”
Soulstice: Return of the Light 