The two week wait is over and the results are in. A heartbreaking BFN. I’ve stopped all of my meds and am waiting for my period to show up. Four days out and still nothing. So I get a bit conspiracy theory crazy and think, “self, could it be possible that the lab was wrong?” Then the imagination runs wild with what could possibly have happened. You bring up the images of your vial full of blood and have doubts about whether or not your birthday really was on it. You get on the internet (first mistake I think for anyone going through IVF is to have access to the internet 48 hours pre or post procedures or test results) and find that yes, people have had false positive beta tests. You too could have a miracle. You go to bed at night sensitive to every twinge or feeling that might be a period beginning. You obsessively examine the toilet paper after each pit stop to see if there signs of a beginning period and your heart soars when there aren’t. When it doesn’t appear by day four post the negative beta, you just can’t shake the thought that maybe the lab was wrong, so you ask your sweet husband to purchase a pregnancy test, which is of course negative.
I’m not really ready to let it go. I probably won’t be until my freaking period finally shows up. Until then, I’m still freaking waiting. Beyond the conspiracy theories, my processing has gone something like this:
My immediate reaction on Friday was a cold numbness, which turned to anger, then turned to selfishly looking at all of the things I would be gaining if I wasn’t pregnant and IVF is over. My body, morning cup of coffee, traveling to all of the places I’ve ever wanted to go, doing things at the drop of a hat because I want to and don’t have to worry about child care, sushi, and the list went on from there as my husband and I numbed ourselves on an expensive meal and way too much wine, though delicious and well deserved wine.
Saturday morning arrived and anger hit when I checked FB. Some random girl I went to high school with posted that much to her shocked surprise, she was pregnant with her third child even though she’d had her tubes tied. Yay! Are you there, God? It’s me, the woman desperate to have just one baby of her own, and I’m drowning in anger at the injustice of this FB post. Can you throw me a freaking line? My second reason for infertility patients not to have access to the internet 48 hours pre or post procedure or test results: Facebook.
I’m also still processing that this might be our last IVF and our last chance at conceiving our own baby. Remember that post about realizing we would be okay as a childless couple? Yeah, that clarity seems to have escaped me for the moment. Besides obsessively checking the internet for stories on false negative betas and grumbling at everyone I know with a child on FB, I’ve been researching surrogacy and mentally shifting my entire 401k over to our savings account so that we can start that process ASAP. There have been many emails to friends and acquaintances who have successfully adopted to get advice. I’ve signed up for informational meetings to look into the adoption process.
The problem is that we have one more embryo left. We also have one fresh round left with Attain, which could set us up nicely with bank of embryos to use in surrogacy if that’s the route we choose to take. I really don’t want to walk away from our last embryo, but I’m not sure what our RE will say at our post IVF consult. Last time we met, she was leaning towards this round being it.
Here’s one of the hardest things to deal with at this point for me. How do I define myself now? Is our journey to conceive over? Who do I become if it is?
My heart is breaking and saying it has no idea who I am and that no, the journey cannot be over. I’m 34 years old and I know that is still young enough to have a healthy baby, but for whatever reason my uterus does not want to support a life. Surrogacy and adoption are both very exciting options for me, but the cost is so huge. We’ve borrowed pretty much all we can at this point. Fostering is something else we’ve talked about, but right now all I can think about is raising an infant. I know that sounds horrible, but that’s been the dream for 6 years. I always thought we might foster after we’d had our own children.
This summer, I assumed that if this round could get underway, we’d have some idea of what direction we were heading in and life could move forward. Now it seems that even with knowing the round wasn’t successful, I’m a muddled mess of tears, anger, and anxiety at what to do next. What I would do to be back in the Rockies right now getting my clarity back.
Anyone know of helpful ways to mend a broken heart?