So I ignored an anniversary earlier this week. Sue me. This past Sunday was the two year mark of my going off BCP. Can you blame me for wanting to ignore it completely? I have nothing to show for it. (Plus the bulk of my week this week has been all about trying to get a closing date set so we can move.) I knew it was there. All day Sunday when NewsBoy and I were packing I was acutely aware of what the day meant. All week long I was hyper aware of the fact that I am now in my third year of trying to conceive my first child.
I had hoped that I would hit this anniversary knowing I was pregnant. I had hoped this last round of IVF would have worked. It didn’t and I’m not. So I’m now in my third year of trying to have a child, a place I never in my wildest dreams expected I’d be. And yes, I am glossing over a lot of tears and discussions and poking and prodding. But the down and dirty details are as follows: in the last two years I’ve had 12 negative pregnancy tests. In my first year I only had 6 cycles while trying to regulate things….my longest cycle to date is 73 days. I’ve been through four cycles with Clomid…and two IVF cycles. And I haven’t a thing to show for it. All my scars are on the inside…you can’t see them.
No matter what else is going on in my life, (you know, like buying and selling a house…have I mentioned that I’m doing that?) the heaviness that surrounds my heart is constant. Yes, I have learned to live with it…I guess you could say I’ve redefined normal. But not a day goes by when I don’t think about the miscarriage I had in July. I should be 27 weeks today. I’m not. And I don’t know that I will ever get to be pregnant.
The “Negative Nelly” (that’s what my Mom used to call me when I was all negative about things) in me keeps screaming that I should just give up and accept a life without children. The Jewish Mother in me keeps telling me to ignore her because my time will come and I should keep fighting.
I am a fighter. I can’t think of one instance in my life where I didn’t go after something I wanted…when I didn’t fight. (And I’ve never wanted anything this badly.) I was raised to go after whatever it was that I wanted. I was taught that if you wanted something you go after it until you get it. But how much more can I take? How much further can I go? Do I go through a third IVF cycle? A fourth? I just don’t know if I have the fight left in me.