I broke today.
Today was roughly 36 hours before I was scheduled to take my blood test to see if I am pregnant after our first round of IVF.
I found out recently that the drug that women are put on following implantation – progesterone of some sort – can delay or prevent a cycle from starting naturally. I had somehow become dependant on the idea that my body would naturally let me know either by my cycle showing up or not if I was pregnant. I’m lucky in that my body has always been reliable that way about giving me bad news.
When I realized the first time I might know that I was not pregnant would be from a nurse calling to tell me the results of blood work, I broke down and did what I said I was not going to do and took a home pregnancy test.
I was absolutely convinced that this was going to be negative. Absolutely.
It was positive.
I know this is the part where I’m supposed to be unbelievably excited, grateful, happy and overjoyed. Instead what I felt was sheer uncontrollable terror.
The problem is after a miscarriage, after a death in the family, after cancer, after celiac (okay not so much celiac) after so much loss it’s hard to believe anything good is going to happen. And, I still can’t bring myself to pin my hopes on this.
We still need the beta test results. I may be pregnant, but it could be a chemical pregnancy and we’ll get to week 7 and there will be no heart beat. The baby could easily die in the first trimester. The baby could still die in the second and third trimester. I know two women personally who had late term still births. And, as I write this one friend’s daughter who is only a couple of weeks old remains hospitalized.
There is a terror in me about loosing again. Wondering why I even tried again if I can’t face losing again. IVF is in some ways a lottery. The odds of success are less than 50% in most cases. We haven’t beaten those odds yet.
Infertility, miscarriage and death have taken away from me the ability to be hopeful and joyful about an early positive on a pregnancy test.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to celebrate this moment. When we get the beta numbers? When we hear the heart beat? When I feel the baby move? When I’ve given birth? After my child graduates? Or, has their own child.
I’ve spent my time on IVF forums and I see the women there excited and supportive of the women who do and do not make it. I feel selfish and parasitical not to be overjoyed at this moment that so many would love to have. But it’s not that simple for those that have lost. I know there are so many women who have gone through this multiple times. I can’t imagine the strength that takes.
I did manage eventually to move past the panic attack with big help from a couple of friends. For the next few week, at least, it’s one day at a time.