after the last 4 weeks without sex, and directions to abstain only 24 hours after the IUD insertion wednesday, husband and i were gonna get back in the swing of things over the weekend.
being the ever-so-curious-about-my-innards girl that i am, i first went into the bathroom to feel out the IUD string. fishing line filament thingie: check. hard thing sticking out of the cervix: CHECK?!
an online search told me that only, like, 3-5% of chicks expel the IUD, usually ones who never carried children (you know, little cute petite innocent uteruses). clearly, that was not a factor in my case, seeing as i had three in that old bag at the same damn time and all. plus one.
this morning i promptly went in to see if the doc could push that bit back in. he was very surprised to find not the bottom of the *T*, but the ARM OF THE FUCKING *T* STICKING OUT!!
doc: "have you had any cramping?"
cg: "no, not at all, actually."
doc: "it must have taken some pretty strong cramps to turn it around."
cg: "i didn't even have cramping when you put it in."
doc: "you're probably a very stoic individual."
ummmmmm...thanks? i can't say he's wrong, really.
he pulled out my copper consolation prize, a drip of pink mucus hanging off the end.
as he was leaving the room, he said, "of course, it would happen to YOU." yes, yes i totally agree. "i've never seen that happen before," he said. no, no of course you haven't, doc!
i'm the luckiest girl in the entire universe, you know. completely and utterly charmed.
bottom line, i have to wait for my next period to get another IUD inserted. wouldn't it be the funniest fucking thing if i got pregnant in-between IUDs? wouldn't that just be the shit, getting pregnant naturally when i am finally on the road back to my life?
wouldn't that be hilarious?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
we were aligned
dear [charmedgirl],
these words are from the heart. i accept that you may not want to hear from me. shortly after i wrote you last year i received a letter of c0mplaint regarding the care i provided you during your pregnancy with p@ige. weeks later i learned that you had initiated an investig@ti0n. this news so weighed me down that i have been reviewing our time together in my mind for months. i know when we last spoke you were grieving deeply. whatever you believe i did or did not do that contributed to p@ige's death, i am sorry. the investigation has forced me to go over our many pren@tal hours together, our decisions about your care and our shared philosophical questions. all i can say is that i am sorry for your heartache and your disappointment in me. i have replayed our visits and conversations numerous times in my head. we were aligned in our approach to your needs. then tragedy struck and we were no longer. you and p@ige are never far from my thoughts. my sincerest hope is that in time you will find peace.
sincerely, [midwife who caused your baby to die]
::::
i could probably tear that apart line-by-line, but two things really struck me.
she only started fretting over the care she provided a few months ago? obviously my fears were correct, and she was floating over the earth like, "babies sometimes die. so sad. lalalaaa.." and she's sorry? i bet she's fucking sorry NOW. REALLY sorry.
secondly, we were aligned in our approach? she's blaming ME? last time i checked, i wasn't an OB, midwife, doula, or anything of the sort. why was i hauling my big fat ass an hour each way to see her when i could have just chatted with her over the telephone about my thoughts about birth and had my baby die? fuck her. my prenatal care was HER responsibility, and it had nothing to do with *our* PHILOSOPHICAL FUCKING QUESTIONS.
::::
i'm sure things are really heating up for her. the investig@t0r came to my house last week and basically told me she wouldn't be seeing anymore clients...temporarily, forever, i don't know yet. the bottom line on the note she sent was, i guess, "I'M getting in a shitload of trouble and WE agreed on your care TOGETHER." poor, poor midwife community. a few really anti-medical-establishment radicals are really spoiling it for all of you. it will all be over around may.
wait until she's notified when the lawsuit gets filed.
::::
i've asked husband about nine times if he was sure he didn't want to try again. i'm pretty damn sure for myself, but it's just so fucking hard to finalize it. he said the other night how he used to want four or five kids, and i asked again if he was sure. "how much heartache do we have to take?" was his response. we're happy with what we have; my IUD appointment is today. i am going to do it, and then the question, the limbo, will disappear. i hope.
::::
i asked the lawyer if the fact that the ivfs didn't work, the fact that i can't get pregnant again, was good for my case.
she said she's sorry; it is very, very good.
these words are from the heart. i accept that you may not want to hear from me. shortly after i wrote you last year i received a letter of c0mplaint regarding the care i provided you during your pregnancy with p@ige. weeks later i learned that you had initiated an investig@ti0n. this news so weighed me down that i have been reviewing our time together in my mind for months. i know when we last spoke you were grieving deeply. whatever you believe i did or did not do that contributed to p@ige's death, i am sorry. the investigation has forced me to go over our many pren@tal hours together, our decisions about your care and our shared philosophical questions. all i can say is that i am sorry for your heartache and your disappointment in me. i have replayed our visits and conversations numerous times in my head. we were aligned in our approach to your needs. then tragedy struck and we were no longer. you and p@ige are never far from my thoughts. my sincerest hope is that in time you will find peace.
sincerely, [midwife who caused your baby to die]
::::
i could probably tear that apart line-by-line, but two things really struck me.
she only started fretting over the care she provided a few months ago? obviously my fears were correct, and she was floating over the earth like, "babies sometimes die. so sad. lalalaaa.." and she's sorry? i bet she's fucking sorry NOW. REALLY sorry.
secondly, we were aligned in our approach? she's blaming ME? last time i checked, i wasn't an OB, midwife, doula, or anything of the sort. why was i hauling my big fat ass an hour each way to see her when i could have just chatted with her over the telephone about my thoughts about birth and had my baby die? fuck her. my prenatal care was HER responsibility, and it had nothing to do with *our* PHILOSOPHICAL FUCKING QUESTIONS.
::::
i'm sure things are really heating up for her. the investig@t0r came to my house last week and basically told me she wouldn't be seeing anymore clients...temporarily, forever, i don't know yet. the bottom line on the note she sent was, i guess, "I'M getting in a shitload of trouble and WE agreed on your care TOGETHER." poor, poor midwife community. a few really anti-medical-establishment radicals are really spoiling it for all of you. it will all be over around may.
wait until she's notified when the lawsuit gets filed.
::::
i've asked husband about nine times if he was sure he didn't want to try again. i'm pretty damn sure for myself, but it's just so fucking hard to finalize it. he said the other night how he used to want four or five kids, and i asked again if he was sure. "how much heartache do we have to take?" was his response. we're happy with what we have; my IUD appointment is today. i am going to do it, and then the question, the limbo, will disappear. i hope.
::::
i asked the lawyer if the fact that the ivfs didn't work, the fact that i can't get pregnant again, was good for my case.
she said she's sorry; it is very, very good.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
nightmares
this is going to be bad. consider yourself warned.
i had a nightmare last night about my ex-husband.
we got married when i was 20, he was 29. i know now that he has very similar, if not the same, personality disorder my mother has. probably not a coincidence.
he also used to an@lly r@pe me. he would completely ignore me, sleep on the couch, refuse to have sex...but beg for an@l. i would reluctantly agree because i stupidly thought that if i gave him what he wanted, it would lead to a more normal sex life. i call it r@pe now, since after a few minutes it would end with me telling him to stop, crying, struggling, and bleeding...and him forcing.
we were married for 2 years, during which we lived in my mother's/grandmother's house! this all happened in the house i grew up. he was like a greasy snake, kissing my family's ass royally, and my mother and grandmother adored him.
towards the end of the first year, soulmate friend went into a hospital for psychiatric care. they never got along; she HATED him from the start. when she got out of the hospital, they started to get along. it turned out he was intensely seducing her, and would take her to a cheap motel and have sex with her. she attempted suicide after that. i didn't know the full details until after we divorced, but i suspected.
although we had sex about 6 times the first year of marriage, i got pregnant (I KNOW! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!!) and three days after the positive test, i got an abortion; there was no way in hell i would give my child a father like him. he already had a child, with his high school english teacher, who would call ME, crying, asking why his father didn't love him.
during the second year, i started to leave him. it was mental and emotional at first, and i finally kicked his ass out towards the end of it. my mother and grandmother took his side, and since i had already started to go out with friends and staying out late (i was 22 for christ sake), they basically believed every word he said, calling me a whore, and nursing his "wounds"; he was threatening suicide if i didn't go back to him. my own mother was calling me a whore and letting him come into my room while i was out and take whatever he wanted. i came home once to find my clothing on the bed and dresser gone. i had to move in with soulmate friend and her mother. while i lived with them, my mother would call me on the phone and harass me.
my youngest sister, during the two years we both lived in the house, was in high school and had some emotional problems. he started giving her bass lessons and that seemed to help a lot. after the separation, my mother continued to bring her to him for lessons. it turned out he was giving her alcohol and massages (he went into massage school after we split). he had sex with her the last time she went for a lesson. she was drunk and 16. he was 32.
about four years later, when i married my current husband, she was to be my maid of honor. she didn't make it to the wedding, because she was in a psychiatric hospital for attempted suicide three days earlier. the only reason she lived was that her friend called my mother and told her she was bleeding out and to check on her. the door had to be broken down to find her drunk and almost dead, covered in blood. she finally told me only two years ago why she couldn't stand at the wedding.
last night i had a nightmare about my ex-husband.
i was sleeping in my bed (which i was) and i felt something under the covers. i lifted it to find HIM. he told me i was going to go with him, and three or four big guys with bats came into my room. they grabbed me and took me to his house, the first floor of which was a whore house, and all the walls were glass. we got to the second floor and he told me i had to love him again (jesus- it was such a short time that i did, how was i going to get that back? BLEH BLEH BLEH). he then made me lay with him and pretend to be in love. the last thing i remember was wanting to kill myself.
::::
is this what's going to happen now? what the fuck? i didn't get pregnant. fine. is every goddamned fucking thing from my past going to come back and torture me just because my future isn't going to be what i hoped it would? i mean, i figured paige's death would come back full force, but EVERYTHING?
that poor would-have-been baby; it would have had a lot to cover up.
i had a nightmare last night about my ex-husband.
we got married when i was 20, he was 29. i know now that he has very similar, if not the same, personality disorder my mother has. probably not a coincidence.
he also used to an@lly r@pe me. he would completely ignore me, sleep on the couch, refuse to have sex...but beg for an@l. i would reluctantly agree because i stupidly thought that if i gave him what he wanted, it would lead to a more normal sex life. i call it r@pe now, since after a few minutes it would end with me telling him to stop, crying, struggling, and bleeding...and him forcing.
we were married for 2 years, during which we lived in my mother's/grandmother's house! this all happened in the house i grew up. he was like a greasy snake, kissing my family's ass royally, and my mother and grandmother adored him.
towards the end of the first year, soulmate friend went into a hospital for psychiatric care. they never got along; she HATED him from the start. when she got out of the hospital, they started to get along. it turned out he was intensely seducing her, and would take her to a cheap motel and have sex with her. she attempted suicide after that. i didn't know the full details until after we divorced, but i suspected.
although we had sex about 6 times the first year of marriage, i got pregnant (I KNOW! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!!) and three days after the positive test, i got an abortion; there was no way in hell i would give my child a father like him. he already had a child, with his high school english teacher, who would call ME, crying, asking why his father didn't love him.
during the second year, i started to leave him. it was mental and emotional at first, and i finally kicked his ass out towards the end of it. my mother and grandmother took his side, and since i had already started to go out with friends and staying out late (i was 22 for christ sake), they basically believed every word he said, calling me a whore, and nursing his "wounds"; he was threatening suicide if i didn't go back to him. my own mother was calling me a whore and letting him come into my room while i was out and take whatever he wanted. i came home once to find my clothing on the bed and dresser gone. i had to move in with soulmate friend and her mother. while i lived with them, my mother would call me on the phone and harass me.
my youngest sister, during the two years we both lived in the house, was in high school and had some emotional problems. he started giving her bass lessons and that seemed to help a lot. after the separation, my mother continued to bring her to him for lessons. it turned out he was giving her alcohol and massages (he went into massage school after we split). he had sex with her the last time she went for a lesson. she was drunk and 16. he was 32.
about four years later, when i married my current husband, she was to be my maid of honor. she didn't make it to the wedding, because she was in a psychiatric hospital for attempted suicide three days earlier. the only reason she lived was that her friend called my mother and told her she was bleeding out and to check on her. the door had to be broken down to find her drunk and almost dead, covered in blood. she finally told me only two years ago why she couldn't stand at the wedding.
last night i had a nightmare about my ex-husband.
i was sleeping in my bed (which i was) and i felt something under the covers. i lifted it to find HIM. he told me i was going to go with him, and three or four big guys with bats came into my room. they grabbed me and took me to his house, the first floor of which was a whore house, and all the walls were glass. we got to the second floor and he told me i had to love him again (jesus- it was such a short time that i did, how was i going to get that back? BLEH BLEH BLEH). he then made me lay with him and pretend to be in love. the last thing i remember was wanting to kill myself.
::::
is this what's going to happen now? what the fuck? i didn't get pregnant. fine. is every goddamned fucking thing from my past going to come back and torture me just because my future isn't going to be what i hoped it would? i mean, i figured paige's death would come back full force, but EVERYTHING?
that poor would-have-been baby; it would have had a lot to cover up.
Monday, March 23, 2009
dates
on one of my clomid cycles last fall, i figured out when my due (i actually wrote die date by accident just now...hmmmm) date would be. i happen to be the surgical schedule for my OB and figured out i could actually schedule the c-section for 7.7.09, eerily similar to paige's birthday, 9.9.07. yesterday i booked a c-section for a patient for 7.7.09. that could have been my day.
i also looked at the schedule for my would-be c-section for this last failed transfer, it would have been 11.10.09. i thought that would have been a good birthday.
the due date for the triplets was 3.15.05, the ides of march. i always thought the ides was cool, but i knew they'd never come that day. every year i think that would have been their birthday.
numbers, dates, names, it all means shit.
i also looked at the schedule for my would-be c-section for this last failed transfer, it would have been 11.10.09. i thought that would have been a good birthday.
the due date for the triplets was 3.15.05, the ides of march. i always thought the ides was cool, but i knew they'd never come that day. every year i think that would have been their birthday.
numbers, dates, names, it all means shit.
purge
if we had a girl, her name would have been holly. a boy would have been marcus. when i see or hear the name holly, i cringe just as i do when i hear paige. not the same with marcus.
i almost bought a sling off c's website in november. i was sure the ivf would work and i wouldn't be sitting here wondering what to do with a $70 sling i could use because i would never get pregnant again. i felt it would have been a spit in the face of the universe, it would have been a spit in the wind.
i never really saw myself being pregnant again.
i still say the names of all my children along with the babies-that-would-never-be, just to see how they all sound together.
i tell myself that if i got pregnant again, the baby would have had downs syndrome or some other serious handicap or illness.
i'm on a pretty strict medical diet and i pretend i'm pregnant. i really wanted to prove, with another pregnancy, that i could eat perfectly and get the baby out alive. i didn't get pregnant, but i can at least be a success at losing weight.
after the first ivf failed i adopted a cat. he's 9 years old, has no teeth, had a big gash under his arm that required surgery, and has two nails missing. no one wanted him. i thought that i could hold him and snuggle him like a baby if the last ivf failed.
i had a dream about paige last night; i haven't dreamt of her since before i started trying to get pregnant again, probably january 2008. the floodgates are opening...
i almost bought a sling off c's website in november. i was sure the ivf would work and i wouldn't be sitting here wondering what to do with a $70 sling i could use because i would never get pregnant again. i felt it would have been a spit in the face of the universe, it would have been a spit in the wind.
i never really saw myself being pregnant again.
i still say the names of all my children along with the babies-that-would-never-be, just to see how they all sound together.
i tell myself that if i got pregnant again, the baby would have had downs syndrome or some other serious handicap or illness.
i'm on a pretty strict medical diet and i pretend i'm pregnant. i really wanted to prove, with another pregnancy, that i could eat perfectly and get the baby out alive. i didn't get pregnant, but i can at least be a success at losing weight.
after the first ivf failed i adopted a cat. he's 9 years old, has no teeth, had a big gash under his arm that required surgery, and has two nails missing. no one wanted him. i thought that i could hold him and snuggle him like a baby if the last ivf failed.
i had a dream about paige last night; i haven't dreamt of her since before i started trying to get pregnant again, probably january 2008. the floodgates are opening...
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
transitioning
at this moment, i belong nowhere.
i'm not trying for a baby, i'm not pregnant. this path was chosen for me, by my body, by the embryos, by who the fuck knows what or why. i'm not someone who was just done on her own accord. i've never known this strange suspension of time and space, this space in-between, the space right after you just give up without getting what you were trying for. (well, really, i have- the transitioning from full term pregancy to babylost- at least this space isn't as violent.)
why am i angry inside because the last post seemed like i'm *fine*? why am i upset by the fact that i may have made it sound like i now appreciate what i have, lesson learned, hallelujah?
without that pregnancy, without the trying for it, what is there left to feel? i'll tell you what. there's now nothing to distract me from the full force and gall of my dead baby. there will be no live one to soften that blow. there will be no thoughts of the possibilities of how much softer the edges can be with another, alive baby. there's just me, and the fact that i tried and failed.
i've enlisted in a very strict medical weight loss program. i need to be someone else. i need to be who i was before i ever got pregnant with the living or dead. i need to create a definitive before and after. i need to do something reliable. i need a line in the sand; i need something i can SEE. I NEED SOMETHING REAL.
i need something visible that says, "THAT WAS THEN AND THIS IS NOW."
it could have been a growing belly, but it will be a shrinking one.
i got the final call yesterday from the ivf nurse, telling me yet again that my beta was negative. now i wait for the blood to flow, and when it comes, so will a big fat IUD.
i am transitioning out of my reproductive life. the decision is mine now, and i'll be fucking damned if i get ripped back ever again.
i'm not trying for a baby, i'm not pregnant. this path was chosen for me, by my body, by the embryos, by who the fuck knows what or why. i'm not someone who was just done on her own accord. i've never known this strange suspension of time and space, this space in-between, the space right after you just give up without getting what you were trying for. (well, really, i have- the transitioning from full term pregancy to babylost- at least this space isn't as violent.)
why am i angry inside because the last post seemed like i'm *fine*? why am i upset by the fact that i may have made it sound like i now appreciate what i have, lesson learned, hallelujah?
without that pregnancy, without the trying for it, what is there left to feel? i'll tell you what. there's now nothing to distract me from the full force and gall of my dead baby. there will be no live one to soften that blow. there will be no thoughts of the possibilities of how much softer the edges can be with another, alive baby. there's just me, and the fact that i tried and failed.
i've enlisted in a very strict medical weight loss program. i need to be someone else. i need to be who i was before i ever got pregnant with the living or dead. i need to create a definitive before and after. i need to do something reliable. i need a line in the sand; i need something i can SEE. I NEED SOMETHING REAL.
i need something visible that says, "THAT WAS THEN AND THIS IS NOW."
it could have been a growing belly, but it will be a shrinking one.
i got the final call yesterday from the ivf nurse, telling me yet again that my beta was negative. now i wait for the blood to flow, and when it comes, so will a big fat IUD.
i am transitioning out of my reproductive life. the decision is mine now, and i'll be fucking damned if i get ripped back ever again.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
praise god
in another life, the worst thing that ever happened to me was that i had triplets. it was so weird. it was embarrassing. it was like a circus when i went out with them; i hated the attention and the stupid questions. i hated the fact that i would always be the girl with triplets...forever, the rest of my life, like, even at 65 when someone asked me how many children i had and how old they were. it was also a neon flashing sign nailed to my head, one of those ones with a big arrow where the lights follow downward to the place where the arrow points and screams, "INFERTILE!!" i also had three kids at the same time (which is all i ever wanted to have, three children), instead of spread out. i got gypped out of two more pregnancies. i got gypped out of the normal motherhood experience. i always wanted a home birth; i'd been kinda obsessed with vaginal birth since i was 9 and saw my mother's copy of 'a child is born.' i got stuck with an automatic c-section. i had to leave my babies in the nicu for three weeks. whaa-whaa-whaaaa.
in this life, the one i have now, my new-normal life, i am punched dead in the stupid face by how differently it could have gone. i had the good fortune of having my first ivf work, and also the good fucking fortune of getting through a very high-risk pregnancy with three healthy and perfect children. i feel so lucky to have received the three children i wanted, the three children i envisioned my family to have. knowing what i know now, after a dead baby, after two failed ivfs, after over five total years of active infertility, it could have gone so differently. i was a spoiled jackass brat.
people tell me i'm blessed, they say what miracles. i don't believe in god, but i finally know what they're talking about.
in this life, the one i have now, my new-normal life, i am punched dead in the stupid face by how differently it could have gone. i had the good fortune of having my first ivf work, and also the good fucking fortune of getting through a very high-risk pregnancy with three healthy and perfect children. i feel so lucky to have received the three children i wanted, the three children i envisioned my family to have. knowing what i know now, after a dead baby, after two failed ivfs, after over five total years of active infertility, it could have gone so differently. i was a spoiled jackass brat.
people tell me i'm blessed, they say what miracles. i don't believe in god, but i finally know what they're talking about.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
3/3, 0/4
there won't be any baby-after on this blog.
there won't be any baby-after in this life.
i had the frozen embryos transferred last monday. everything looked perfect, just like it did last month. during the transfer, i thought, "uterus, you know better than i do. it's up to you." i've been waiting to learn my fate, and now i know. i guess that's all there is to it.
i think i feel sad and i feel free. i feel a release from the obligation to try.
during the summer of 2006, the three were 19 months old and we talked about whether we wanted more children. my flesh was saying i was ready for number two, not realizing it'd had three the first time. husband was home for 2 months after a car accident, and i was thinking maybe yes, i wanted another baby. soon after he returned to work, i realized it was a batshit crazy idea and decided i was done.
that fall, i went on a diet and started working out. i had three children, a husband, a home. i was getting back to my old self. christmas time came around, new years eve...jesus, i felt bloated. january 2007 i found out i was surprisingly pregnant. i was shocked, depressed. i felt betrayed and overwhelmed. i hated being pregnant. the kids were 2 and i was terrified about adding a newborn. then she died.
my immediate reaction was that i was done before, i can just go back to being done. that didn't last long, and if i were most other women, i would have a fourth who-knows-how-old baby by now. but i'm not, and i don't. my 2008 was a full year of trying to get pregnant, yet confused about why why WHY i wanted another baby. was it to try to right a wrong? to try to heal myself from the horror of my dead baby? was it to have that one baby, to know what it's like to have a baby like a normal mother, just one-on-one? i didn't know then, i don't know now. i do know that other women don't have to know, they just have to fuck. the decision and the reasons don't have to be good enough...they don't have to be made and justified time after time after time.
i was sure that if we did ivf, it would work and i would get pregnant. it was always there, that looming high-tech medical procedure, that balls-to-the-wall act of finally really trying to have a baby. it, after all, had worked so brilliantly the first and only other time i'd done it. three out of three. all i could think of was, if i didn't do it, would i regret it in the future? would i wish i would have done it, had another baby like i always wanted to have it, one at a time? just like i SHOULD HAVE IT? WOULD I REGRET NOT DOING IT? i just assumed it would work. that was the problem.
my first injection was december 26th, 2008. four perfect embryos created. two transferred at the end of january, two transferred last monday. two stark white negative pregnancy tests. total failure.
after the failure in january, i was devastated. i was shocked. it didn't work.
after the failure in january, i started to feel a release. i started to feel that my obligation to try had ended. i started to feel free. i had nothing more to fear regretting. i'd done it all; i'd done the extreme and it didn't work. i was tired. i knew we'd try the two frozen embryos, but i knew i was free after that, no matter what happened.
it didn't work. i can't get pregnant again. i tried. i tried everything.
i am sad and i am free.
you will not come here and read that i have no words left, that i'm busy with a newborn, that i'm not sure where i belong now. you will not read that i'm too busy being happy and feel guilty talking about my baby after. you will not read about how i'm still grieving yet ecstatic. you will not travel with me during a pregnancy and birth. there will be no breath-holding. there will be no exhaling.
there will, however, be an afterlife. finally.
there won't be any baby-after in this life.
i had the frozen embryos transferred last monday. everything looked perfect, just like it did last month. during the transfer, i thought, "uterus, you know better than i do. it's up to you." i've been waiting to learn my fate, and now i know. i guess that's all there is to it.
i think i feel sad and i feel free. i feel a release from the obligation to try.
during the summer of 2006, the three were 19 months old and we talked about whether we wanted more children. my flesh was saying i was ready for number two, not realizing it'd had three the first time. husband was home for 2 months after a car accident, and i was thinking maybe yes, i wanted another baby. soon after he returned to work, i realized it was a batshit crazy idea and decided i was done.
that fall, i went on a diet and started working out. i had three children, a husband, a home. i was getting back to my old self. christmas time came around, new years eve...jesus, i felt bloated. january 2007 i found out i was surprisingly pregnant. i was shocked, depressed. i felt betrayed and overwhelmed. i hated being pregnant. the kids were 2 and i was terrified about adding a newborn. then she died.
my immediate reaction was that i was done before, i can just go back to being done. that didn't last long, and if i were most other women, i would have a fourth who-knows-how-old baby by now. but i'm not, and i don't. my 2008 was a full year of trying to get pregnant, yet confused about why why WHY i wanted another baby. was it to try to right a wrong? to try to heal myself from the horror of my dead baby? was it to have that one baby, to know what it's like to have a baby like a normal mother, just one-on-one? i didn't know then, i don't know now. i do know that other women don't have to know, they just have to fuck. the decision and the reasons don't have to be good enough...they don't have to be made and justified time after time after time.
i was sure that if we did ivf, it would work and i would get pregnant. it was always there, that looming high-tech medical procedure, that balls-to-the-wall act of finally really trying to have a baby. it, after all, had worked so brilliantly the first and only other time i'd done it. three out of three. all i could think of was, if i didn't do it, would i regret it in the future? would i wish i would have done it, had another baby like i always wanted to have it, one at a time? just like i SHOULD HAVE IT? WOULD I REGRET NOT DOING IT? i just assumed it would work. that was the problem.
my first injection was december 26th, 2008. four perfect embryos created. two transferred at the end of january, two transferred last monday. two stark white negative pregnancy tests. total failure.
after the failure in january, i was devastated. i was shocked. it didn't work.
after the failure in january, i started to feel a release. i started to feel that my obligation to try had ended. i started to feel free. i had nothing more to fear regretting. i'd done it all; i'd done the extreme and it didn't work. i was tired. i knew we'd try the two frozen embryos, but i knew i was free after that, no matter what happened.
it didn't work. i can't get pregnant again. i tried. i tried everything.
i am sad and i am free.
you will not come here and read that i have no words left, that i'm busy with a newborn, that i'm not sure where i belong now. you will not read that i'm too busy being happy and feel guilty talking about my baby after. you will not read about how i'm still grieving yet ecstatic. you will not travel with me during a pregnancy and birth. there will be no breath-holding. there will be no exhaling.
there will, however, be an afterlife. finally.
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