One word says so much, yet doesn't even come close to explaining how much my heart hurts at this very moment.
I had a small reason to be suspect after Wednesday's monitoring appointment. I was trying to remain hopeful and really felt like the medications were doing their jobs. I was tired, felt bloated, had hot flashes and headaches. You know the symptoms that I'd love to complain about, but this time wanted to embrace. Because maybe, just maybe, that meant that things were working.
I went in for my monitoring appointment this morning and was feeling full of hope. I was ready to talk about trigger date and retrieval and all of that good stuff. The phase that I hadn't yet gotten to. The part where I would be one step closer to being pregnant.
But that is not the case.
Where my math skills failed me earlier in the week, they were dead on today. In the stimulation phase, the goal is to track more follicles and larger follicles with every appointment. Today they were smaller and there were less of them. My nurse believes that this cycle is over. Again.
I asked if Dr. Million.pictures.on.the.wall would be available for a consult to review what is happening with my reproductive system. She replied, "You may schedule a consult with Dr. M whenever you think its appropriate." I then said "I'm not a special snowflake and don't need the royal treatment, but this doesn't warrant a phone call from him." She said she'd check, but couldn't make any promises. In all honesty, I don't blame her. This is the way the practice works. I'm just not sure it's working for me anymore.
I cried. I cried my best Julia Roberts "Don't Talk about me like I'm not here" tears from Steel Magnolias. I hustled out of the office and handed my office visit sheet to the receptionist and told her I didn't need a follow up scheduled. I opened the doors with too much force and the door slammed against the metal frame. I then realized that I had left my jacket in the office, so I sheepishly turned around, muttered a tearful apology, retrieved my jacket and got the hell out of there.
Then I cried some more. I called Mr. T and he kept saying "I'm sorry", which prompted Toddler T to keep asking Daddy why he was sorry. Finally, Mr. T answered that he was sorry that he forgot to leave coffee out for Mommy. Then I cried and called my mom. I told her that maybe it is time to accept that Toddler T is our only child. She offered to leave work immediately. I declined. She then told me that she truly believes that one way or another, we will be parents to more than one child. I will let her be my belief system for right now.Then I called Wheezey and left her a voicemail. Then I called someone else, then someone else, then someone else. I was too sad to be alone with my thoughts. Shocked stupid to the point where I just needed to keep talking, even if I couldn't really follow what the other person was saying to me.
There is a level of pain and sadness that I cannot wrap my head around. We are approaching the one year mark and I never in a million years would have believed that I would be where I am today. I feel lost, I feel inadequate, as the body I was given can't fulfill its duties, I am scared and losing the ability to stay positive. Today, I cried. My husband, mother and mother in law all cried. My son asked me why I was crying and I had to tell him that I stubbed my toe when I was walking up the stairs. He went and got me ice and kissed my boo-boo. And that made me cry some more.
I want to be a mother of more than 1 child. I want to experience having a baby again. I want the chance to be more relaxed with the newborn phase. I want to see my son love a sibling and most of all, I want our family to feel complete. This is a journey I would not wish on not one single person. It is not fair. It is not just nor is it equitable.
The one thing that does keep me going is that I am lucky to be surrounded by a family that just does what is needed and a husband that was sent to me for a reason. I am also lucky to have a little bit of the fight still in me. I have made an appointment at another clinic, for a second opinion, set up for next week. I have already faxed a records release to get my medical records and spoken with the financial coordinator to see how much money we can get back if we switch clinics.
My mother is saying a prayer to Saint Jude. I will be sending my prayers to Saint Gerard.