I won’t beat around the bush here. This cycle has failed. Am I upset? Hell yes.
No matter how much I try to hide away from the sorrow I feel, it does not abate. It stays and causes such an ache in my chest. The only way to get rid of it is to let my feelings out. Let it all hang out there, like a load of dirty washing that won’t come clean, no matter how many times I wash it. And it feels like dirty washing, too. Something I am not proud of, that I want to stash away in a cupboard somewhere so no-one can see how much it’s affecting me. And yet the only way to actually feel better is to hang it up and watch it dry.
Let me say a sad goodbye to my “Stage 6 Baby Dust Status”. All you level Sevener’s out there, I expect a hearty welcome. Just in case you have forgotten what a Level 7 Infertile is, let me remind you:
Level Seven: The Veteran Infertile: (Courtesy of Princess Smartypants)
The VI has now been through numerous failed infertility treatments. She has long abandoned her perky on-line friends for other vets who are bitter and angry like herself. There is no baby dust there. In fact, if someone so much as mentions baby dust, they should be prepared to have it shoved so far up their ass it comes out their nose when they sneeze. The VI and her friends post on message boards and blog about the horrendous-ness that is infertility. For many VIs, this on-line misery-loves-company support is the only thing that keeps their heads above water. It connects them with someone who actually knows how they feel.
The VI has to sit on her hands to keep from smacking anyone who tells her to think positively because “I had a cousin who…” or because “I know just how you feel, it took us 3 months!” (though it has been noted that some don’t bother sitting on their hands…)
The Vet inserts her needles while simultaneously talking on the phone, eating dinner, and knitting a sweater.
Many people know about the infertility. You can’t miss that much work and not expect people to ask questions. The VI has by now given up many of the hobbies and activities she used to participate in because treatment takes up too much time, too much money, or just too much energy.
She avoids events and activities that she knows a pregnant woman or new mom will be attending. So, she avoids A LOT.
She begins to believe that she may never become pregnant.
So here I am. Almost 6 years and 3 IUI’s later, and nothing to show for it. I will most likely be taking a month or two’s break, after which I will start IVF. Thank you all for your unfaltering support. I will still be around, cheering all of you on. To all of you still in your 2ww, I bestow my last bit of *baby dust* on you, and pray for a positive outcome for all of you.
A note to my family: I know this is very upsetting for you, and difficult to make any sense of. I could sugar coat it and pretend I am okay, but I am not okay. It’s not the end though, it’s just the beginning of a whole other path of treatment. A path I never wanted to end up on, but then, we don’t always get what we want. I appreciate all of your love and support. It does not go unnoticed.
Playing on the radio at the moment is “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol. This song is very descriptive of how I am feeling at the moment:
“If I lay here,
If I just lay here,
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world.
Forget what we’re told
Before we get too old,
Show me a Garden
That’s bursting into life.”