Yep that would be me.
Our GIFT was negative. From a chemical pregnancy a mere two months and a bit ago to a flat zero beta – right back to where we started… Guess I was right to worry about the fact that we never got any embies from the four left over eggs after all. My theory of a healthy pregnancy after a chemical pregnancy seems to hold true – for everyone else but me – cos guess what? I’ve still got that short bloody straw clutched firmly in my hand…
Yesterday was a day in my life that I would much rather not have to repeat ever again. We headed off to the clinic for our bloods and then rushed off to the airport to meet my Dad’s friends who were bringing him home to us. The call came through and I just knew I could not answer it. I gave the phone to Cliff and saw his shoulders slump and felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. My heart is on the floor of the arrivals hall at OR Thambo so anyone walking through there please be as careful as you can…
Then of course it was having to deal with knowing that my Dad’s ashes were finally home… His friends that brought him home are so nice and kept on meaning well by telling me to just relax and it would happen, but all I wanted to do was take an axe and cleave their heads open everytime they said that to me.
Going through my Dad’s stuff was hard. A whole life lived and all we have to show for it is one measly hospital packet with some papers and his glasses in it. Sad.
Then my sister and I ended up having a massive fight yesterday, all because I asked her to be honest with me and tell me if I was as stupid as I felt for trying over and over and over for a baby with no results. To cut a long story short, it ended up with me walking to my Mom’s house barefoot and crying my eyes out, getting glass in my foot (bloody litterbugs in SA) and my Mom having to rush out to come and fetch me on the side of the road. We’ve sorted it all out now but now all I feel is incredible hurt and guilt.
Guilt cos again my body has wasted a vast amount of money, money that was given to us by my in-laws. Guilt for what I’m putting my husband through cos he married a dud. Guilt for the hurt that my messed up body causes for those around me who for some reason (God alone knows why) love me.
Hurt cos I feel so lost and forgotten by God. I feel like I’m standing in this vacuum screaming and shouting for Him to hear me, to acknowledge me in some small way and He’s standing with his back to me with his earphones on full blast tuned into everyone else but me. I wish with all my heart that if this is His way of showing me that I’m not meant to be a Mom that He would take this desire out of my heart. That He would remove the longing in my eyes when I see or hold another person’s baby. That He would ease the ache I feel when I hear children call someone else (it’s always someone else) Mommy.
Anger cos I’ll never be able to trust my body EVER again. (Not that I really fully did but you know what I mean) I thought I was pregnant from this treatment. The no bleeding, the heat rises, the on/off cramps etc. But it was all a lie. My body colluded with the progesterone and fooled me well and good. My body is a liar. Always has been and always will be.
And here I stand, clutching the short straw watching the world around me continue in joy and happiness, with a sore butt and waiting for a very, very expensive period. And from where I’m standing right now, the world is hazy and it feels like I’ll not be allowed to be part of that shiny, rosy, happy place.
This sucks. Huge donkey hairballs.