I cannot believe it, but here I am again in the 2 week wait. Actually, it is not really a two week wait because we used two frozen blastocysts, so it is actually an 8 day wait. That seems like a whole lot less than 14 days, and it is, but it does not make anything any easier.
After finally, and I do mean finally having a child, I never really thought I would put my body through this process again. I am about to turn 39 for goodness sakes. Truthfully, I am not sure women are meant to raise children at this age. So why, you might wonder did I decide to try again? There are several reasons I have decided to go through with this.
1) I do not want my daughter to be an only child. I sometimes fear her reaction to
learning that she was an IVF baby, and if she had a sibling that was as well, I
just think they could have someone that would instantly understand that it took
a little extra science, magic, and/or miracle to bring them both into the world.
Perhaps it would make it easier, I am not sure.
2) I love having a sister and cannot imagine what my life would have been like
without mine. I want the same opportunity for my child.
3) My daughter is spectacular, the embryos that were frozen were her twins, quads,
whatever you want to call them, and they all came from the same batch. How could I not try?
4) I never want to look back and have regrets and wonder what would have happened if
I had just given it a try.
But there were many, many reasons I never wanted to go through this process again. Yes, the injections are a pain (literally), the uterine cleansing and prodding is less than fun, and the unbelievable amounts of hormonal medications intruding my body are disconcerting.
In addition to the physical issues, the deception that comes with IVF is awful. I recognize that I could choose to just tell everyone what is going on, but then there would be the reveal of it working or likely, not working, the pity, the glances, the news that I just don’t want to burden people with at this time. So, what have I done? I have lied. The lies have been many and I am kind of exhausted from trying to come up with any at this point. This is IVF number 7, and assisted reproductive attempt
#20 or so, I am emotionally spent.
All of these issues pale in comparison to the real reason I didn’t want to do it again. For the depression and failure I already feel. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know it is not going to work. I am following every step I need to, to the letter. I stayed in bed for almost 4 days. I have not lifted my child, I have not bent down, I have not worked out. I have only eaten healthy foods. I made sure to eat Brazil nuts, pineapple, and anything that any infertility website ever suggested.
Having the embryos frozen meant that I could always envision a someday. Now that I have had them transferred, I can no longer do that. Inevitably, on Friday, when I take the HPT and get a NO, it is over. The way I feel every moment of the day is the reason I never wanted to go through this again. I finally had a baby. I had a positive pregnancy test, I had a beautiful child. I had and still have everything, but now; this is the memory that will be the last one in the procreation game. I am devastated because a woman knows her body. I wish I didn’t. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I knew I was pregnant, I would not say it out loud, but I knew. This time, I am not, and I know, and I am devastated.
Everyone around me is having second and third children and good for them. But sometimes, it is painful to remember that I will never experience that wonderful moment of finding out that another miracle will happen. My daughter will never have a sibling. My childrearing days are limited to one. I am beyond blessed to have the one and I know that, but my heart cannot accept
such reality.
The next few months are going to be difficult. This week is going to be torture. I pray I am wrong. I hope others who don’t know what I am going through pray with me. I never wanted to visit this emotional place again. But, it is unfortunately, part of the process.
.
After finally, and I do mean finally having a child, I never really thought I would put my body through this process again. I am about to turn 39 for goodness sakes. Truthfully, I am not sure women are meant to raise children at this age. So why, you might wonder did I decide to try again? There are several reasons I have decided to go through with this.
1) I do not want my daughter to be an only child. I sometimes fear her reaction to
learning that she was an IVF baby, and if she had a sibling that was as well, I
just think they could have someone that would instantly understand that it took
a little extra science, magic, and/or miracle to bring them both into the world.
Perhaps it would make it easier, I am not sure.
2) I love having a sister and cannot imagine what my life would have been like
without mine. I want the same opportunity for my child.
3) My daughter is spectacular, the embryos that were frozen were her twins, quads,
whatever you want to call them, and they all came from the same batch. How could I not try?
4) I never want to look back and have regrets and wonder what would have happened if
I had just given it a try.
But there were many, many reasons I never wanted to go through this process again. Yes, the injections are a pain (literally), the uterine cleansing and prodding is less than fun, and the unbelievable amounts of hormonal medications intruding my body are disconcerting.
In addition to the physical issues, the deception that comes with IVF is awful. I recognize that I could choose to just tell everyone what is going on, but then there would be the reveal of it working or likely, not working, the pity, the glances, the news that I just don’t want to burden people with at this time. So, what have I done? I have lied. The lies have been many and I am kind of exhausted from trying to come up with any at this point. This is IVF number 7, and assisted reproductive attempt
#20 or so, I am emotionally spent.
All of these issues pale in comparison to the real reason I didn’t want to do it again. For the depression and failure I already feel. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know it is not going to work. I am following every step I need to, to the letter. I stayed in bed for almost 4 days. I have not lifted my child, I have not bent down, I have not worked out. I have only eaten healthy foods. I made sure to eat Brazil nuts, pineapple, and anything that any infertility website ever suggested.
Having the embryos frozen meant that I could always envision a someday. Now that I have had them transferred, I can no longer do that. Inevitably, on Friday, when I take the HPT and get a NO, it is over. The way I feel every moment of the day is the reason I never wanted to go through this again. I finally had a baby. I had a positive pregnancy test, I had a beautiful child. I had and still have everything, but now; this is the memory that will be the last one in the procreation game. I am devastated because a woman knows her body. I wish I didn’t. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I knew I was pregnant, I would not say it out loud, but I knew. This time, I am not, and I know, and I am devastated.
Everyone around me is having second and third children and good for them. But sometimes, it is painful to remember that I will never experience that wonderful moment of finding out that another miracle will happen. My daughter will never have a sibling. My childrearing days are limited to one. I am beyond blessed to have the one and I know that, but my heart cannot accept
such reality.
The next few months are going to be difficult. This week is going to be torture. I pray I am wrong. I hope others who don’t know what I am going through pray with me. I never wanted to visit this emotional place again. But, it is unfortunately, part of the process.
.