Testing again

I find it highly depressing that I have to do my mock transfer and infectious disease testing again.  It seems unreal to me that this time last year I was gearing up for my first IVF post Baby Girl and now...I'm still freaking doing IVF.  I swore that I would only do two cycles and then move on.  What's my threshold now?  How far am I willing to go?  Some days, I petulantly just want to throw in the towel.  Others...I accept that this is a freaking long process.

Can I just say that I hate the Royal Baby?  But, not as much as I hated getting my friend's announcement that her baby boy (due the same time as Mackenzie) was born and is healthy.  I don't really mean that...but it has been really hard to face Mackenzie's due date and realize how far my life is from where I thought it would be a few months ago.

Off I go to read books to my little boy and snuggle in bed.  Hopefully with just enough time for a glass of wine and a little T.V. tonight.

Failure

I couldn't believe it.  Two perfectly beautiful 8-cells.  Neither took.  Two different negative pregnancy tests.  Tons of what are typically uniquely pregnant symptoms for me.  Still no period.  I am devastated.  It is like losing Mackenzie all over again.  I can't help but feel that I am a failure.  That we will never get pregnant again.  That something is messed up in my uterus now and I'll never get to hold another baby of my own in my arms.  That my premonition that Josie would be my last child, the last time I would have a full pregnant belly again, was indeed true.  That my heart will never heal from losing Mackenzie and I will always walk around feeling a little more broken, a little bit different from the rest of humanity because my child is dead. 

My arms ache for my baby.  I am so angry to be doing IVF fucking again.  I am so angry to end on such failure.  I am so angry to have to cancel holidays and vacations and suck our financial resources into this.  I am so tired of being in pain and sad and crying and wanting so much to just be like a normal person that can make plans and implement them for my life.

Be gentle with me, dear readers.  Know that I am in a dark, sad place and the perspective that one gets when not depressed and utterly devastated is not here.

Please, tell me.  How will I survive losing my baby?  How will I ever get over losing him if I cannot have another baby? 

Oh, Mackenzie.  I am so sorry I failed you.  I am so sorry I didn't take the doctors more seriously and listen to them when they told me about a support group.  I wish someone had taken me by the shoulders and gently said this is not good, this is very very bad.  No one did that.  I didn't know.  I would have laid in bed and treasured every little moment with you if I truly thought you were going to die.  I would have never freaked out about being pregnant with twins.  I would have been more scared of losing you.  I would have loved you better.  I would have done so many things differently, my dear sweet boy.  I miss you forever.  I wish that Baby Girl and Nugget had gotten to be your big sister and big brother.  They love each other so much.  They would have adored you, too.  Come back, baby, come back and be in my belly.  Come back and be with me.  I love you, little one.  I love you so much. 

Not Strong Enough

I could test today.  But, I'm not feeling strong enough.  I don't think I can handle a negative.  I stay up at night until 2 or 3 am, watching random movies.  I did this when we didn't know what was going on with Mackenzie.  I would stay up all hours watching Shameless on Demand.  I couldn't sleep.  Waiting.  Anxious.  Unable to sleep, but exhausted.

I have mixed symptoms.  My boobs are a little more tender.  My appetite is ravenous, especially in the early morning.  But, I am not constipated.  I don't know if I should test tomorrow, two weeks from retrieval, and get it over with.  Or, if I should wait until Friday and test on the day of my blood test.

For now, living in limbo seems easier than living with the cold, hard failure.

What to do?  What would you do?  How did you handle testing after a cycle?

Morbid Book Club

Since Mackenzie died, I have been looking to learn from others who have survived tragedy.  I have found several books to be essential to my healing process and highly recommend them to those seeking to find examples of people that have chosen to continue living.  The first few weeks after Mackenzie died were excruciating.  I couldn't stand walking around in the world.  I felt too fragile, too broken to walk among "the happy people."  At the time, I couldn't imagine that this pain would ever end or be less raw.  I holed up in my house, refusing to leave.  Even a trip to the grocery store or a workout at the gym would reduce me to a mess of tears.  Upon reading novels of woman that had lost children, lost husbands, lost their lives and more, I began to see that I was going to have to chose to keep living and to not let this experience make me bitter and removed forever.  I am not sure if I am a resilient person, but I know that I have learned through all this that the only way I can control my life is to control the framework through which I view it.

The End of Your Life Book Club: A book club between a mother and her son during the last days of her life.

They Were Still Born: Personal essays about stillbirth and infant loss

I'll See You Again: A mother loses all three of her precious daughters in the horrific New York State’s Taconic Parkway car accident in 2009.

Wave: A woman loses her parents, her husband, and her two boys in the 2004 tsunami in Sri Lanka.

Stumbling on Happiness: Understanding human behavior and perspectives on happiness.

A few phrases that people said to me or stories that they told also were very healing.

I spoke with a woman that had lost her first and, so far, only child to stillbirth and I asked her how long would I be in so much pain and agony.  She shared with me what a friend once told her: "You won't feel this way forever, but you do have to feel this way right now."  Whenever my grief was overwhelming, I would calm myself with this saying.

I also talked with a friend who struggled to get over her father's death.  She visited with a shaman who performed and energy ritual repeating: "hold on to the love, let go of the pain."  Whenever the grief or guilt of losing Mackenzie sends me reeling, I concentrate on the love that I had for him and his twin and try to let go of my pain in losing them. 

This isn't the most poetic entry, but I wanted to write these nuggets down before I got lost in the minutia of every day living.

In other news, I am one week past transfer.  I am trying not to obsess about everything little thing, but as you all well know, it is hard.  I concentrate on the two beautiful 8-cells that we transferred and hope that they are burrowing away in me, so that I can carry them with me for the next 9 months.

What a Rollercoaster....

Our day two report wasn't so great: all 4 embryos were still growing, but they were all 2 cell.  I was sure that we weren't going to have anything but a crappy 4-cell to transfer on day three.  I ended up going in to the office early because I've had really really awful pain since retrieval....the type of pain that hasn't allowed me to get up off the couch at all since retrieval and has me dependent upon vicodin.  I've always used vicodin for the first day or two post retrieval, but I am four days out and still have a lot of pain.  Anyway, I went in early to have an ultrasound to see if anything was going on with my cyst or anything else that could cause this type of pain and they couldn't find anything.  At that point, one hour prior to transfer, they told me I had a good quality 6-cell and 8-cell.  I was ecstatic!  An 8 cell!  Then, I went into transfer and they said I had 2 grade-1 (highest quality) 8-cells, a 6-cell, and a 4-cell.  Amazing.  So, we transferred the 2 8-cells and the waiting game begins.  I'm really struggling with this pain...they said that the pain after retrieval gets progressively worse each time you do it and given that this is my 8th retrieval, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Fingers crossed, but I at least have some hope.

Not terrible, not great fertilization report

9 eggs, 5 mature, 4 fertilized.

Not my amazing cycle as with Mackenzie (15 eggs, 10 mature, 9 fertilized).  But not as horrible as Baby Girl's cycle (6 eggs, 4 mature, 2 fertilized).  So, I need to remind myself that these numbers mean nothing and what will be, will be.  I am so sad that we couldn't end our IVF career on Mackenzie's amazing cycle...which was amazing for my "diminished ovarian reserve" self.  Sigh.  I'll never know why it was so high.  It probably never will be again.  I feel sick to be doing this process all over again.  I miss my baby boy.  I wish he were still with us.

12 short weeks

12 short weeks ago I was sobbing because my sweet baby boy was dead and I was going to have to deliver him. Tomorrow, 12 weeks from his death, I will be going in for my 8th IVF retrieval.  I am hoping that there will be a living, viable baby among those eggs, but know that the chances of that happening are slim.  I miss my baby boy and wish that he were here.  Wish that this wasn't what has happened in my life.

A photo that makes me smile to counter balance the deep sorrow and sense of loss in my life.