My last failed IVF-ICSI treatment was December last year. I bled profusely for two days. A lesser flow after that for a week. It was horrific. And it was very lonely. But I survived it, depending on how you define survival. My periods still aren’t normal but I am thinking that has more to do with the small fibroids my fertility specialist found in my preparatory assessments. At any rate, I have looked into fostering and adoption but I haven’t pursued those options as keenly as I am pursuing being pregnant.
And that makes me think. Not to the extent of being obsessive, but I have at least one thought about having my own child at least once every day. Some days those thoughts are of gratitude that I have freedom to do and be whatever I choose to be. Other days it is more about regarding my pets, Max and Molly, as my kids. The remaining days are about longing for my own children. About the mundane duties of being a parent, longing for my time to not be my own, longing to not sleep because I am up with a crying baby. You get the drift.
And then a couple of weeks ago I started to think that maybe my blood test was wrong and one of the three embryos had taken and it was just too early to detect. I thought how awesome it would be if I could be on that show “I didn’t know I was pregnant”. And then I knew I wasn’t pregnant because that was just silly. Tests don’t lie. But I started to think maybe I should try again. I need a sign. Ridiculous I know. I lost a lot from my last failure.
I lost friends that I had regarded as family. I lost friends. More significantly I have really lost my ability to trust. So even the people that were there only get a shadow of me now. I get scared at the smallest sign that I might be a burden so I back right off. Then I become guilt ridden. People don’t pursue though; the wonder of our modern age: technology provides an avenue for connection but we are ultimately infinitely more disconnected. Maybe I needed to follow this path though, to be where I am today.
I have started costing another cycle. I have started planning my dietary and supplement regime.
Last week a friend gave me a piece of jewellery. It says that I need to listen to and I need to trust my inner voice. Uncanny timing. I had asked for a sign. I received it. Part of me wishes that this journey was over for me. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, it seems I have a little more travelling to do.
And I sigh.
When will I know it is time to stop?