May 21, 2015 by positivelypeachie
I wrote this post last week, when my period had finally arrived after 44 days and I had, once again, thought I was pregnant and taken multiple HPTs. I realize how very raw this post is, but sometimes I think we need to share things in their raw and unglamorous state. So I am going to share it anyway, please judge thoughtfully (or not at all, preferably). I will add onto the bottom a story of hope that came to me a couple hours after I wrote this, and has helped to bring me comfort.
All right ladies – this is it. The last FAILED natural cycle before my June appointment with my RE to get treatment started. I had hoped to avoid medication, but it obviously isn’t going to happen for me. At least I can stop supporting the HPT companies now… I wonder if they’ll see a difference in their revenue. (Who are we kidding, I won’t be able to wait for blood tests to check…its ok FirstResponse, we’re still going to be BFFs!).
My last year of cycles went from 29 days with ovulation CD20, to 43 days with ovulation on CD29ish or not at all. It’s not looking good. In January I started running 3x week most weeks, and removing sugar and processed foods from my diet – and it actually appears to have either had no effect on my cycle, or made it longer – both of which are no good to me. I guess PCOS doesn’t care what I do to help myself along; it’s going to remind me it’s here and
ruin control my life regardless. Womp womp.
Can I tell you all a secret?
I’m terrified. I’m not just scared…no, I’m stomach rolling, palm sweating, sleep losing terrified.
What am I afraid of? Pregnancy, debilitating morning sickness, complications, medication side effects, miscarriage, labour, being a bad mother, being a disappointment, giving in to my fear and never knowing the way it feels to hear “I love you Mom” (cue tears…ugh… L).
And then even if I did manage to get pregnant, and get through the pregnancy and labour and become a mother to a living, breathing baby – what about after that? What if the baby is ever hurt or sick? I’m no good with this stuff guys – when we got Chops, she had chronic diarrhea due to food allergies. For four months I researched and hunted and spent thousands of dollars on foods and vet appointments trying to help her, and each night we were still up every hour or two with terrible diarrhea. I was operating on no sleep, too much stress, emotional exhaustion – and I just fell apart. I sobbed to my husband about how I was a bad dog mommy because I couldn’t make her better. I contemplated returning her to the breeder because I clearly wasn’t doing a good job. I was afraid she’d never get better and I’d never sleep again, or that she’d die from this unknown illness. It was awful. If I can’t even handle that – how can I ever expect to handle a colicky newborn or a sick toddler? I can handle misbehaving kids – but when they’re hurt or sick, in their most vulnerable, I can’t do it. I can’t look at something I love more than life and watch them hurting and/or sick and not fall apart at the seams. How could I ever be a good mother if I can’t be strong in moments like that?
I hate that infertility makes you worry about these kinds of things – makes you wonder if the reason you are infertile is because you shouldn’t have kids.
I don’t know if these feelings are normal…I don’t know if you all went through something similar, and if it will all be OK in the end. I just know I’m scared, and afraid I won’t measure up, and worried the morning sickness will be the end of me, and fearful of all the things we infertiles know can happen. As badly as I want this, I want to not suffer anymore just as badly. While I know that’s unreasonable, I can’t help but want it. I’m afraid to let myself hope for something good, because I’ve seen you wonderful ladies who are much stronger than me be hopeful, and then have every dream stripped from you in one fell swoop – and it was horrible and painful and tragic and I just can’t bear it.
I don’t even know why I’m worrying about the future; I haven’t even managed to get pregnant yet. Every pregnancy I’ve had ended before the baby even really got nestled in. Sorry guys, this one is more of an emotional brain dump than anything else. I’m hoping someone out there has experience this fear and can offer some advice or even just agreement that they’ve experienced some/all of this.
This story I heard after writing this post, but it really gave me some hope even if I’m an emotional ball of crazy that things do work out and that the hardest things are often worth waiting for.
A friend of mine (a real one, not the mythical “a friend of a friend got pregnant with 300 perfect babies when she just relaxed and let it happen”) completed the adoption of her first child through protective services last fall. It’s been a hard long run for her, but I was so happy to see the adoption go through. He has been in her home since he was 2, and he’s now 9 so you can imagine that was a long stretch. Like we so often hear through well meaning friends, she miraculously got pregnant shortly after the adoption finalized but she miscarried at 9 weeks and after a rupture due to scar tissue and fibroids she ended up having an emergency hysterectomy. She is only 34, so you can imagine that was devastating. I think she held a little hope (despite DOR) that she might give him a sibling. Last week she learned that her sons birth mother died in an accident, and on Friday she got a call that would change her life – her son’s birth mom had left behind a 4 month old baby girl whose only living relative was her 9 year old son. Baby girl was placed into their care in an effort to keep the siblings together, and he is as thrilled to be a big brother as they are to have her. There are lots of hoops to jump through but they are praying that she is able to stay and be adopted into their family. Had her pregnancy continued, she would have been due this month and I really think this is going to be immensely healing for her. It gives me goosebumps just thinking of this, and I am so happy for her. I have a good feeling it will all work out.
So to recap: PCOS is a jerk, I’m afraid of everything, and miracles do happen!