A year ago today
A year ago today I had my D&C, finally putting to an end the miscarriage that wouldn’t end. The dream of having that baby had died months before, my body just didn’t get the memo.
It knocked me on my ass then and it continues to knock me on my ass now. I may not cry every day now, it might be every second day or once a week, but I still cry. I cry when I wake up and realize that I should be waking up with a nine month old. Tears roll down my cheeks when V asks for a brother or sister. I sob for hours when I go through our paperwork and find the transfer day ultra-sounds and I don’t throw them out, leaving them instead to deliver another kick to my gut the next time I stumble across them. I cry when I try to write about it, and I cried today when I realized I have 45 drafts just waiting around, incomplete, because I started crying too much, because I couldn’t get out what I needed to say, what weighs so heavily on my heart.
And because I don’t really know what I want anymore. Well I do. I do more than anything know that I want another child. But then I also know that I’m months away from turning 42. I am OLD. I am not a good candidate for ART anymore, my chances of conceiving are about to plummet to 5% (yes even with my ‘ovaries of a 20 year old’) and I’m not sure I can do ‘around-the-clock this baby isn’t sleeping’ anymore. Nor am I sure I can do it with a 4-year old in the house. I’m not sure it’s fair to spend another 10-12K on a crap shoot, knowing the odds are on such a decline. Knowing that’s we’ve had 3 unexplained miscarriages. Knowing we don’t have the magic formula for baking a healthy baby. Knowing our odds of genetic issues are that much greater now.
But I’m tired of being on hold. I’m tired of not posting, not talking about it, not doing anything about it, so I decided. On Wednesday I picked the devil I know and decided to call the fertility centre – after half a day of dithering, I did (more on that in a bit) and secondly I decided to go though those posts-in-waiting and clear them out. They either get finished, polished and published or they get binned. It won’t be all I write, but this has to get out of my head.
Now the anticlimactic bit: The clinic’s psychologist (hubby’s request) is on vacation until the 7th so no appointment made with her, and our last visit with the RE was August 19th so if I want to do anything I have to get a referral from my GP. Good thing I spent half a day screwing up the courage to make that call!
One day this blog will have a snazzy name 
I’m crying now. I’m glad you made the call… I’ll be here for whatever need, you know that, right? Love you.
Stop it water head! I’ve cried enough for both of us.
Hugs.
I remember that bitter pill, all too much. I’ll say some prayers that you find the peace for whatever you are seeking. I am extremely blessed for having had things work but I remember when I decided that we were on the last try for everything and a physician told me it had failed, that devastation was so heavy. I remember immediately switching gears to adoption because I was so passionate about the idea that there is a baby for me somewhere dammit! I heard so many times that I should be grateful for the one I’ve got – ARRRGHH!! I am, but that’s not the point! Thankfully the doctor was wrong I think someday when it”s not so raw and weighty, I’d like to see you be someone to lobby our government to acknowledge infertility as a health issue. This may be the wrong time and place to post this with the timing but the fact that you don’t get to try because it costs so much is extremely frustrating. I truly believe it’s OK and normal to mourn the loss and have some ‘what ifs’ a year later. Your hopes and dreams were real, made all the more acute because of the inprobability of having it happen at all and those that know and love you understand how hard you’ve suffered with this. Let this be a bit of a healing forum if you need it; it’s far healthier than swallowing it. I admire your courage for sharing today; thank you.
Thanks so much Anita. And you did remind me I should be following up about the provincial lobbying happening around these parts.
hugs and prayers
Thanks Colleen. Some days I’ve just got to get it out of my head.
Argh, I’m having trouble just leaving a comment. Just pretend that my twice-typed encouraging/sympathetic comments are here. Did it work this time?
I’m feeling the encouragement *g*
I don’t know what to say – I’ve never been in this position before. I do know that I’m sending you buckets full of love.
xoxo
I’ll take’em! We can always use buckets full of love *g*
Sending you (((hugs)))).
They’re much appreciated.
what an incredibly tough decision. i hope you are feeling better for making it. fingers and toes crossed that every works out the way you want it.
I’m not sure if it’s better or worse that I wasn’t actually able to make any appointments! I must remember to call my GP.
I get it. God I get it. Big time. I am glad you made the call though. And glad that you are taking time to regroup and see the psychologist (she’s amazing. Totally ❤ her.) as well. Good on you. Yes, it's okay to mourn and cry. We all do. Sadness and grief aren't finite; they ebb and flow with the day and time. With luck, they will ebb as time passes. Until then, many hugs and much love.
I’ve still got a few more calls to make before I can actually do anything, gotta love this system. *g*
I’ve had several friends that have struggled with infertility. My heart goes out to you for the losses you’ve suffered and all you’ve had to deal with in your quest for a baby. The cost is astronomical but when it works out, you never think of what it cost, only that having a baby is priceless. I don’t give advice except to say only you know when you will be at peace with giving up or if your heart will regret not trying again. You’re a strong person and I’m proud that you made the call. Anxious to hear what happens next!
Thanks so much and you are right about the cost, although I do know we can’t go another 7 times
Oh Coreen. I’ve only ever been through one miscarriage, and it was enough to last a lifetime. More than enough. And those anniversaries are so hard. It’s ok to cry. I’m not a pray-er, but everything over here is crossed for you.
Thank you.
Good luck Coreen…sending you all my most positive thoughts and wishes. You’ve made a brave decision and I think it’s the right one. Fingers crossed!
Thanks, I still have to convince my husband *g*