Lost

It’s been two weeks since my last entry. I was ignoring my blog. I was even considering erasing it and never thinking about it again.

After the disappointment of only getting two embryo’s my confidence took a bit of a knock. But they both seemed to be growing so who cares, like I’ve said before, we only need one.

So the day 5 transfer was arranged and compared to the collection it was a breeze. When the doctor arrived she had our report and before she said anything I saw that our embryos had been downgraded from “good” to “poor”. One of them had stopped moving and the other was a day behind where they would want it to be. I don’t think think I was a very easy patient to deal with for the embryologist because I got so sad at that point I could barely hold a conversation. I think I probably said what I was feeling, which was, “what’s the point?”.

When we got into the surgery my doctor said that it looked like the better embryo had started to move a little bit, which sounded hopeful. And so in it went. I made a mental note of the fact that my doctor, who is pleasant enough but tends to spew forth statistics rather than empathy, was already talking about “next time” and what they will learn from this cycle. Almost like this one was an experiment.

After that I didn’t know what to say. I was lurking on other blogs but wasn’t really able to connect with what was happening for me. Except that after a week a sense of excitement had started to develop, along with a realisation that I really wanted this to work. That probably seems strange but if you’ve read some of my earlier posts, I’ve had trouble working out whether having children is the choice I really want to make. Well, maybe biology took over because my body seemed to think it was a good idea. I loved having sore breasts (and bigger than usual too, which if you’re an A cup, I’m sure you’ll sympathise with!)  and I found myself fantasing about family outings and all the wonderful things Big H and I would do with this beautiful child born of our love and devotion to eachother.

Blood test day was the 24th. On the 23rd I woke up and knew it was all over. I was bleeding and sobbing on the toilet within half an hour. The clinic said I still really had to come in for the blood test to confirm it. I noticed that the nursing staff made no mention of where I was at in my cycle. I don’t think they would have known that it was already clearly a negative, I think it must be policy not to mention it in case people are in exactly my position. It felt weird and cold, but I guess it’s a sensible way to approach it. Definitely my least favourite clinic visit.

I’m exhausted from bleeding and crying. I don’t know what we will do. I want to thank you for posting comments – it’s why I am writing now. I opened my inbox and you were there. After a good sob I decided to put this down.

I’m sorry I have no words of hope right now. And I know I’m not the only one going through this, it’s only my second cycle. I don’t know if there will be any more. I’m back to not knowing how I feel.