If you've read my blog you know that entering into the IVF world wasn't easy. So having it fail not once, but twice now... let's just say devastation is an understatement. After the first failed cycle, I cried for a while and then focused my energy on whether there was any hope of a second cycle being more successful (there is always hope for a second cycle). I obsessed about it while I waited for our follow-up appointment, and my doctor confirmed my worst fear but at least she had a plan. And that plan was effective, just not enough. But I do have one lonely blastocyst, and I'm not rushing into transferring it. In fact I'm terrified that it will fail too. It's my last shot, but worse than that, is the knowledge that it really is the very last one, that there will not be any siblings even if it does work, GAME OVER.
So now I cry a lot. And get angry and bitter. And cry some more. I can't watch television - every damn show has babies or pregnancies or actresses that either look like they're concealing a pregnancy or maybe it's all in my head... I can't go on any social media either, it's the same thing, babies everywhere. Friends. Celebrities. Women I know are older than I am. This started as "just" blocked tubes and I thought easy-peasy. But no, egg quality issues too, I'm past my best-before-date, and we've tried all we can to get a viable embryo. On average, a 40 year old has 1 good egg for every 10. I've retrieved 27 eggs in total now, and only three made it to blastocyst stage, and two have already failed. 1 in 27 is pretty shit odds. I might as well be 40!
So yes, I'm angry and bitter and hate everyone with their effortless pregnancies. I also feel so powerless. So lost. So sad. The why not me thoughts just lead back to anger again. And more tears. And running out of tissues. And runny nose - where is the GD kleenex!
It has been nearly two weeks. Two weeks that I could only cry about it, I couldn't even write about it. I still don't know what to say about it. What to do with all these emotions, all this anger and sadness. I try to find ways to pass the time, but it confronts me all the time. And I want to scream. Two weeks ago, while I was actively bleeding and fearing the worst, I was also getting the annoying questions from family about if we will have another baby, and oh, I thought you wanted more, blah blah go fuck yourself... all I could say was that sometimes it doesn't work out that way. I wanted to say more. I wanted to say the first one broke me, caused permanent scarring, and we've exhausted our treatment options. I want to tell the world, but I can't. Because all I can do is cry. For five years I've wanted to have another baby. For two years I've thrown everything at it, and failed. FAILED. It isn't the first time I've encountered a challenge that no matter what I do, I just can't achieve my goal. And it hurts. It hurts to put so much effort into anything and fail. It hurts even more to see others achieve your goal effortlessly. And there is nothing you can do about it.