I had a very brief stint at being pregnant...I made it to almost 5 weeks. By most people’s standards they probably wouldn’t even consider that a pregnancy. However, I do.
In the time that I was pregnant I noticed a few things about myself. We, as Infertiles, probably notice more changes in ourselves than the average fertile woman. At least, that has been my experience over the years. We notice every little thing; it’s almost an obsession with us. I’m ok with that. At least I was until I lost my pregnancy.
Knowing what I know now has changed how I pay attention to my body. I’m not happy about it, either. I’m on CD25 today and I can’t even begin to tell you the Hell I am putting myself through.
I now know how fatigued I should be.
I now know how my breasts should feel.
I now know how my nose should react to certain smells.
I now know that I should be grossed out by tomatoes.
I’m searching for these things....constantly. I hate that I’m doing this to myself. I hate that I have had thoughts like:
Sometimes your body needs a pregnancy to kick it into gear.
Sometimes people that suffer a miscarriage get pregnant shortly thereafter.
I’ve read at least 6 (probably more) blog stories where women have either a) given up trying, b) quit trying due to RPL, c) failed an IVF, d) just got done with an IVF consult, e) was about to go to the fertility clinic for the first time or f) moved onto donor eggs only to get pregnant NATURALLY and on their own. These are really inspiring stories and I couldn’t be more amazed at the miracles that have happened. The only problem is that these stories give me hope. As I said yesterday, I want to be done with hope.
I want to just move on and forget (get over) my desire to birth a child and be a mother. I want to stop thinking that “it could happen to me”. The likelihood that it will ever happen is pretty much 0% as evident by my long track record. Unless we win the lottery, there will be no more medical intervention so I can count that out as well.
Knowing what I know now makes it harder on me I think. Not only am I trying to figure out if my boobs are sore because of a pregnancy. They were more than sore; they felt very different on the outside. Every time I bite into a tomato I’m hoping that it makes me want to puke. When we walked into 5 Guys on Sunday I was praying that the smell would make me gag. None of this is happening of course. I’m not experiencing anything, really, not even AF symptoms at this point.
BJ and I had some adult fun last night and he said, “We probably missed your time didn’t we?” And I said, “oh yeah, it’s way past ovulation....but I’m not tracking anything anymore so I don’t know exactly when it happened.” Then he said. “Yeah, I guess there’s no point, right?” And I said, “yeah, no point.”
My brain knows that it’s not going to happen. The really sucky part is that my heart has yet to learn how to let go. One month ago today is when I saw that beautiful 2nd pink line. Even though only 1 month has gone by, it feels like an eternity since I was that happy. I’m definitely better than I was but I have a long way to go. Knowing what I know now is not making it any easier to give up hope. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep remembering all the good things I have in my life and that my life is not over...it’s just different now.