All Consuming Thoughts

Today is the first day I've had to myself since I found out that our second transfer failed. I realize that while each day has gotten a little bit easier to muddle through, my heart truly still hurts.

Distraction has been good for me. I've thrown myself into work and tried my best to push infertility off of my mind this week but now that I'm alone I'm feeling anxious again. I have butterflies in my stomach and a knot in my throat that threatens to reduce me to tears at any moment. I have a feeling that staying busy today is going to be key. Maybe I'll try to decorate for the holiday's and crochet another hat.

Honestly I haven't felt this sad in a very long time. These last 8 days have been rough and I've been in a very dark place mentally. I don't quite feel as hopeless as I did a week ago, or even 3 days ago, but today it's very evident that I am still sad. My husband and I really haven't talked about it much. There has been SO much to say about it, but when we sit down nothing comes out. I know that if I talk about it, it brings our situation into reality and while I know I/we NEED to talk about it to start working through it, I don't want to face it.

I've sat down to write many times as usually sharing my thoughts helps me begin to process everything and help it to all make sense. But this time the heartache has been too intense and I haven't been able to get my feelings down into words. Today, although I am sad, it seems that the intensity of my feelings have faded a bit and I'm able to express myself a little bit better. So I thought I'd use it as an opportunity for me to finally talk about what happened, why I'm so sad, and what might come next for us.

While in the 8 day wait for my blood test it was incredibly hard for me to get excited about the possibility of being pregnant. I figured that if I allowed myself to get excited it would lead to a greater disappointment when it didn't work.

When it didn't work.

Somehow I seemed to have just known in my gut that for some reason, these little embryos weren't going to make it. I can't really explain it, but in the hotel room the day after my transfer my mom asked me, "So how are you feeling?" I replied with, "Well honestly? I feel like it's not going to work." and for some reason that nagging feeling never left.

This time I waited until the day before my blood test to take a home test. I wasn't going to do it but I stupidly thought that it'd be really fun, if it was positive, to wake my husband up before I left for work and tell him he was going to be a daddy. IVF takes away most elements of surprise, and I wanted to reclaim at least one. But instead it turned out exactly how I figured it would... Negative. Not pregnant. Honestly I thought I would be able to let it roll off of my shoulders and just laugh about it because that's how it ALWAYS has turned out. But something gutted me after that moment. I cried half of the way to work and started preparing myself for my blood test. That night I told Josh I didn't think it was going to be positive and not another word was spoken about it.

I'm SO thankful that the day of my blood test also happened to be a snow day for both of us. I dreaded getting up that morning for another lab draw that felt unnecessary. But I did. I went. I sat on the couch and waited. It took them a couple hours longer to call me back this time. During that moment I had a sliver of hope that maybe that meant instead of my doctor calling me herself that it was going to be a nurse and it was good news! But deep down I knew. My husband woke up shortly before "Dr. Oakes" came across on my phone. I took a deep breath and said "Hello"

It was, again, Dr. Oakes. "Nikki?" "Oh hi, yes, how are you?" "This is Meghan. I'm ok how are you?" "I'm Okay." and then she said she was sorry and that it was negative again. I didn't shed a tear, my facial expression didn't change. I told her, again, that I just knew it would be negative and then I looked over at my husband and knew he was also gutted as he hung his head. My heart completely sank. Sometimes it hurts me more knowing how much it hurts my husband vs how much it hurts me.

She said that it shouldn't be this hard. She was taking our case to her team the next morning and consulting with some other experts to see if anyone else could lend some advice on why this hasn't been working. She'd call me back the next day.

That day I stayed busy. I started crocheting a hat for Josh, I did the dishes, I just did everything I could to not talk to him and to not look at him for too long. I didn't want to talk about it and damn it I didn't want to feel how much it hurt. We didn't speak about it for the rest of the day but looking into each others eyes told everything we needed to know.

That night Josh came up behind me on the couch as he was getting ready for bed. He kissed my cheek and gave me a squeeze and just that gentle touch made me completely lose it. Tears immediately streamed down my face and I sobbed. I sobbed so hard. We didn't say anything, he just let me cry for what seemed like such a long time and then we went to bed, early, without another word spoken.

I woke up the next day determined to be okay even though I really wasn't. Work was going to be good for me and I wasn't going to think about it. But then Dr. Oakes called me on my way to work so I pulled over and talked to her. I was excited for her call, but at the same time so nervous.

She told me that they looked over everything, from my protocol and responsiveness at retrieval to each transfer and really didn't find much of anything wrong. The only thing that they could come up with is that our embryos just aren't surviving the thaw very well before transfer. She said they seem fragile. That is sometimes something that they see in older women, but there really isn't an explanation for it in our case. When the embryos were put into the freezer I'm told they are textbook perfect. Gorgeous. But when they thaw they aren't expanding like the average embryo and that may (or may not) be the problem. The moment she said that they weren't handling the thaw very well my heart sank. I knew what that meant and she confirmed it.

There is a good chance that frozen embryo transfers aren't going to work. There is a good chance that our best option would be to do another retrieval and do a fresh transfer.

We talked through a couple more options that aren't ideal for our situation and therefore aren't on the table. She said we have 5 embryos left and if we, understandably, can't or don't want to go through another retrieval we could transfer 2 more times. She feels like a 2-embryo transfer is the least we should do and she is more than willing to do, and recommending a 3-embryo transfer as in our case it would be appropriate.

I told her we'd let them know what we decide to do and hung up the phone. I SO BADLY wanted them to come to an "A-Ha!" moment and have a magical answer or change in protocol. But of course, that'd be too easy. Nothing about this is easy.

My own thoughts were very loud at that moment and all consuming. I needed to talk to someone so I called my mom. I told her the news and just cried. We talked, she tried to find words. I then got to work and put on a happy face but then quickly broke down again when asked how I was doing. I shared my feelings a little and then threw myself into work.

The Thanksgiving holiday was rough. I didn't have the spirit or heart to be with family and so Josh and I had our own little Thanksgiving at home together. I had tears in my eyes most of the day and the rest of the weekend we were together was the same. I'd break down a few times during the day and I was just impossible to be around. Josh just held me as I cried and we muddled through together.

With all of that being said, we again have a decision to make and it's not an easy one. If we continue with IVF... another transfer or another retrieval. Major pros and cons come with each. I'm majorly grieving what we don't have at the end of all of this after everything we put into it this year and it gets more and more difficult for me to envision this working. A family seems further and further away. I'm completely torn on what to do next.

I want to write more, but I'm starting to have difficulty finding words again as thinking about the decisions and the reality still hurts and leads me on an emotional rollercoaster that I just don't want to be on right now. I'll pick this up again later, perhaps after my thoughts are a bit more clear.

I just want you to know that if I've been distant, emotional, or bitchy, I promise it isn't direct towards you and I'm sorry if you feel like it has. Like I said above, I've been difficult to be around. I know I haven't answered a few text messages and I've had to tell people that I don't want to talk about it after being asked how I am. But please know that I am so glad that you've checked in with me. Even if I don't respond or brush you off, I so appreciate the check in's.