Losing Hope

Last night, I prepared a post about pregnancy “symptoms” I am and am not experiencing (like vomiting over the weekend), but after taking my temperature this morning, I don’t think I’ll be publishing it. I just don’t think there’s any point. Because, while my temp has been above 98.0 since ovulation, yesterday it dropped to 97.86 and today to 97.45. Right back to where it was before ovulation. There is a part of me (the part that’s in denial) that argues maybe this is a fluke. Maybe my temp will go back up tomorrow. But we know, don’t we? I know.

I am not pregnant.

Confirmed by a pregnancy test I took this morning just for the heck of it: BFN. No surprise there. Not now, anyways.

I can’t adequately describe to you what this has done to my state of mind this morning. Crying off and on. Periods of numbness in between the sobbing. Unmotivated to do anything. And sometimes thinking, Well, screw it. I give up. I’m not doing THIS again (which totally deserves its own post).

I feel so scared right now. If my temp is dropping, at 11dpo, what does this mean? That I’m not producing enough progesterone? That I have a luteal phase defect? Because of all my problems, that is not one I’ve ever had, as far as we know.

And what could have possibly gone wrong? I ovulated earlier than I ever have before and we timed our baby-dancing perfectly. Did we do it too much? Was three days in a row too many? Some recommend every other day, but with an adequate sperm count, there is no research that says we can’t do it more. Should my husband be tested? Again? And yet… Yet, just four months ago, we created a life — a beautiful life — in the same way with no problems at all.

For the first time in my life, I ovulated on cycle day 14. And I feel like I just blew the best chance I had. Because I don’t know what happens when I embark on my third round of 100mg of Clomid. I’ve never had to go there. Three rounds of 50mg? No problem. I know they will all fail. I won’t even ovulate. But three rounds of 100mg? I can’t even take a guess. I hope I will ovulate. On an acceptable day. But I have lost all my confidence in conceiving just because I ovulate.

In the days after my miscarriage, all I wanted was to have my mom here, so that she could watch my daughter while I went to our bedroom and cried myself to sleep. Today is like that. I just want to cry. And sleep. Maybe until next month, when I will be ovulating and can have hope again.

I keep thinking how easy life would be if I’d never lost our Teddy Graham. I can never change the fact of my infertility and that I can’t conceive naturally, but if he was still here…life would be okay. Good even. I would feel so happy. The future would hold so much hope. My heart would hurt so much less.

I guess, more than anything, today I just want my baby back.

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5 thoughts on “Losing Hope

  1. I’m so sorry you are having a yucky day. I know there’s nothing I can say to take your hurt away, but please know I’m thinking about you and praying for you to get your BFN. My heart just aches for your pain and I can totally relate to the feeling of giving up. IF is so all-consuming. I’ve managed to get about one thing done at work since we first met with our RE back in May and started down this IVF path. I often wish I could quit my job to totally focus on IVF and relaxing and getting pregnant without all the distractions from work. I feel like it would lift a lot of stress off my shoulders and that we would be able to get pregnant…but then if I quit my job, we would not be able to afford IVF on a single income.

    I hope tomorrow is a better day. *hugs*

  2. With each and every BFN, comes grief. Not just sadness, but completely and consuming grief. Grief the hope you’ve invested, of lost time, of what could have been. And that, is one of the many reasons infertility is so hard. We are in a constant state of grief and mending. Mending and grief.

    I can’t remember- are you monitored on these Clomid cycles? If not, I would strongly suggest you ask your doctor to be. Or find one that will. Clomid is a double edged sword: it helps grow those follicles but it can also thin your lining too much. And remember too, it contains powerful hormones. I was an utter emotional disaster when I was taking it. It wasn’t until after my 3 Clomid cycles that my RE told me the drug stays in your system for 28 days. I hope that this time can pass quickly and you can move on to your next cycle. Moving on and looking forward (instead of back) always seems to help a bit. Much love to you.

    • Thank you for your kind words. I’ve never had problems on Clomid and I think that’s why I had such high hopes for this cycle. At this time, I’m not being monitored — but I’m afraid to ask for it because anything fertility-related is not covered by insurance. Also, trying to go into the doctor regularly with a toddler in tow isn’t easy. But I’ll ask my OB about it to see what he thinks.

      • Perhaps even if you could just get one u/s at the beginning of your cycle to make sure your lining is still nice and thick. My RE actually bills my u/s under regular OB visits and NOT fertility (my insurance doesn’t cover anything IF either). I know that’s not how a lot do it, but might be something to ask. I am a Clomid baby myself- so it can work!

  3. I’m sorry; it burns every time, doesn’t it? You have some great advice here from Tami and on your next post from the others – I hope it, coupled with your own inner strength, help you find the courage to begin anew. Thinking of you!

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