There isn't a manual or instruction booklet to guide a woman and her partner through the process of a miscarriage. However, I thought my professional experience offered an advantage. I knew it was a possibility in both situations, as I'm aware of how common miscarriages are. I was also able to derive some positive aspects during each occurrence. After my first, I was able to embrace the 'at least you can get pregnant' mantra. We had conceived spontaneously in just under a year since my IUD was removed, and when you added up our actual attempts, it was just over six months. This actually put us within the range of normal fertility! Although I would develop some regret that we didn't evaluate my cavity when it was initially suspected that I may have a septum, I was relieved when it's presence was confirmed. I felt there was an explanation for my loss and once it was corrected, my prognosis would be improved.
It's now apparent that I was lulled into a false sense of confidence. The spontaneous conception and corrected septum probably gave me a little too much hope for success with an IUI procedure, and hence we probably should stopped after the third, rather than pursuing two more. The regret of not starting IVF sooner set in immediately upon learning our embryo report. I had very low expectations that my first transfer would result in a pregnancy, and my skepticism continued after the pregnancy was confirmed. I almost didn't feel any sadness at the time of diagnosis, as I felt so prepared for the news. Once again, I felt fortunate that we had an explanation for our loss, the formula for a victory was seemingly apparent -just transfer an embryo without a lethal anomaly. I was comforted by the fact that we had embryo insurance and I felt hopeful that at least one would come through for us. As I bailed on doing PGD testing after my day 3 transfer, no one will ever know if they were normal.
I didn't have that much hope for our final embryo, so in theory I shouldn't have been that disappointed. Thank you hindsight for making me realise that I should have followed my RE's recommendation to load both at the same time, as I feel really silly for transferring these losers individually. I'm sure the hottie embryologist regards me as 'the one with crappy embryos who is overly paranoid about twins'. As I fear that a second cycle will produce another tainted batch of embryos and the possibility for our baby seems so far out of reach, I've discovered that I'm going though a second wave of grief for what was once within my grasp.
The losses feel more tangible now that the bubble of optimism has burst. The devastation and disappointment that I should have felt at that time is resonating now. After the diagnosis, my coping method was to look on the bright side. It's one of the many shitty things about infertility and pregnancy loss; we mitigate our pain by acknowledging that there are seemingly worse situations. We're still healthy, this isn't like being diagnosed with cancer. I'm fortunate that it ended so early, it would have been much worse if I were further along... As the brightness is fading, it's really hitting home. Twice I was pregnant, but neither pregnancy would produce a baby. I may not become pregnant again.
Mother's Day hit a little harder this year. Two years ago, I reached the 6 month mark and was starting to research REI clinics. I sent cards to Myrtle and three other friends who were expecting to join the motherhood club later that year. I was hoping karma would take note of my efforts especially since I may never be a mother myself. C'mon Jane, you're being just a touch dramatic... I acknowledged at the time. Last year, I found myself mourning my lost pregnancy a bit on the fĂȘte de meres. I kept the door to our guest room closed, so I wouldn't feel reminded that it still didn't have plans to function as a nursery. Yet, I still felt hopeful. We could try a few more IUIs and we still that the IVF option in our back pocket. This year, as we're embarking on our second IVF cycle, I don't feel that my former self was being so dramatic.
Ah yes, the treatment of last resort--it feels like once you get to IVF pregnancy will be imminent. And then sometimes it's not. I've most certainly prepared myself for failure, particularly for our first full IVF cycle--I've had my fill of disappointment. Today sucks.
ReplyDeleteUgh I'm so sorry. Just want you to know I'm thinking of you today. XOXO
ReplyDeleteI am sorry and I know the feelings of maybe I should have done this or maybe I should have done that differently... I have tried not to second guess the things that have already happened and just move forward. I hope you have done something nice for yourself today. You deserve it! Thinking of you!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry that it is such a hard day for you this year. Hoping that next year you will have reasons to be more positive.
ReplyDeleteAnd I think your observation on the guest room is very true - perhaps, among other aspects, the fact that my brother is occupying the guest room at the moment makes it a bit easier.
I'm so sorry that you have to go through this. I've been reading your blog for quite awhile now and I always look forward to your new posts. Mother's Day is such a hard one to get through!
ReplyDeleteHang on, girlfriend! We can do this!
ReplyDeleteYou aren't being dramatic. You have every right to feel the emotions all over again. So hoping that next year will be the first Mother's Day in a long time that you can CELEBRATE! You are overdue for the win!
ReplyDeleteOh Jane! I hated reading this post. You are not being dramatic....this is so hard. I'm so sorry for the grief you are feeling. You deserve to be a mother and I am so hopeful that next Mother's Day will be a much brighter time for you. Hugs!
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking that I've never really dwelled on Mother's Day too much...it was always a day I thought about MY mom, not about the fact that I'm not a mom. But this year...I found it harder too. More failures, one "close but no cigar". Add to that the fact that we used our Mother's Day visit with M's folks to get them up to date on our donor plans...not the kind of conversation you want to have on Mother's Day. I can't be a mom....so I need someone else's eggs. Anyway, all this not to hijack your post but to agree with the fact that it seems to get harder every year. You're not being dramatic at all.
ReplyDeleteI think your description of the second wave of grief is really astute. Oftentimes we can't fully process bad news in the moment, and its effects unfold over time. I'm really hoping for a good outcome for your second IVF. I'll be rooting for you!
ReplyDelete"just transfer an embryo without a lethal anomaly"- right? it seems so easy!
ReplyDelete"we still that the IVF option in our back pocket"- the trump card, right?
Jane, I really, really resonate with all of this. I know our stories are pretty similar... how can high AMH yield such sucktastic results??? I'm so sorry Mother's Day was hard... I really understand. The only positive I can offer is this: even when all of your hope is gone, even when the tunnel seems dark and long, this community provides others to hope for you.
I'm pretty sure, you are the least dramatic IVFer I follow. A little despair is perfectly reasonable, especially on that particular day.
ReplyDelete