The post I didn’t want to write.
I don’t know where to go from here. You see, there’s comfort in having a plan. Even if it’s the best or worst plan in the world, HAVING a plan gives you something to hold on to when you are trying to keep your head above water. A point of reference, a direction. A lighthouse on a foggy shore.
This is the first time in my life I don’t have a plan.
I mean, wasn’t donor eggs SUPPOSED to be the magic bullet? It sure has been for practically everyone else I know. You would think, in life, that if you are willing to walk the longest and thinnest tight rope to get what you want that you might be rewarded for having the BALLS, the GUSTO! the blind MADNESS!! and ultimately succeed.
But no.
So where does that leave me?
I don’t have a clue.
Truth be told, I had a bit of a hissy fit with the RE today. I put on my big girl pants and went in for the blood draw and had an emotional discussion with one of the lead nurses on staff. I am not letting them off the hook for the poor thaw last week. When they called with the negative results this afternoon (shocking!) I gave an earful again. They are now off to have their own consult (a staff meeting to discuss the DE/IVF flunkies and determine what went wrong). Afterwards, I requested a WTF meeting with the lead doctor and nurse coordinator for the DE program. I may be done, but I won’t shrink into the background because of it.
In recent days- I had an epiphany… this isn’t just about ME. It’s also about my husband. He has always had a stake in this too, and to my surprise his level of investment is exceeding mine at the moment.
A short time ago, I was prepared for this end. As much as I could be anyway. And then, as S. and I discussed this week’s events and prepared for the final curtain, he turned to me and said… “We’ll find a way, and we’ll do it again. We’ll figure something out. This can’t be IT!”
“That’s crazy talk! What the hell are you smoking???” I retorted.
We didn’t say much after that. Actually, I think we made a date this weekend to eat fine food until we can’t move and drink vast quantities of our favorite microbrew beer, but we settled for an immediate fix of leftover Halloween candy and playing Nerf guns with David.
But I have to admit, I was perplexed. Here I am at the end of my emotional rope, that, admittedly… I drug him along at times over the years (maybe nudged is a better word). And now that we reach the end, and I am maybe ready? to make peace with the universe for giving me a shit sandwich… Husband and I have each swung 180 degrees in a different direction.
He wants to pull ME.
So I did it.
I opened the closet door. Yes, that door. My heart was in my mouth. I felt the monsters hot, nasty breath for a split second…and…
…just as I was about to be pulled in and consumed…
S. pulled me back.
——-
No, we don’t have a plan. We may never have another plan.
Yes, my heart is aching and shattered into a million pieces. Yes, it’s hard to keep the anger at bay. I don’t know if I will ever get over the unfairness of life. There are so many of us that would risk certain danger for this ONE THING that comes so easy to most of the population. It seems, at times, that this has to be a world that has gone mad! How can the highest joy and ultimate sadness coexist on this earth? What is the meaning, the lesson?? So many questions.
I don’t know where we’re going, but we will hold on to each other in the darkness and walk in circles if we have to.
We will find a path eventually. And almost certainly, it will lead somewhere other than here.
BagMomma 
Just stopped by to check on you…[[[[hug]]]]
I'm crying for you, Shelli.What a beautiful post, that I wish you never would have had to write.((HUGS))You are so right about having a plan. That's what, we, infertiles do. We are planners.I'm glad you are questioning your RE's office…something just doesn't smell right there.Thank goodness for S. The 2 of you have a relationship that most people could only hope for.Big, huge ((HUGS)) for both of you!
S ~ I just found your blog through another blog that I follow. I'm sorry this DE cycle didn't work – I can't believe only 1 thawed out of 7. I'd be at my RE's door with a shotgun. I'm so sorry. Please try to stay positive and don't give up hope.
What a beautifully written post. I got teary eyed at the part where you said DH wants to pull you now. What a sweet, supportive hubby! Hugs to both of you!
Oh hon, this just sucks. I'm afraid I'm right behind you, this will be our 4th try with DE and who knows, but we have to try; but then what? I have no idea, but I'm thinking of you and hoping you find some answers and direction. And way to go at the clinic – make them own it if they screwed up!
That was a beautiful post and I have to say, I'm envious, you have an amazing husband! My husband just left me because I wanted to continue on the path of donor egg and he had enough! I wish you all the best..
This isn't fair! I wish you clarity as you try to find your path.
I'm so, so sorry. I know you *knew* this was coming (I've been there myself), but I'm sorry about the final blow.
Give yourself time. You just suffered a blow. You don't need to make any life-changing decisions at this exact moment. Take a breath. Mourn. Remind yourself of your blessings in life. Your beautiful son, your husband….and then you will find your next path.Keep surviving!–MM
It's so hard to know when to say when, and who you will become if your plans don't work. I'm hoping you and S. can figure something out and you both get a reprieve from the monster in the closet.
I may be the last person you want to hear from, I don't know…I think if the roles were reversed…For those who go through ART, we start off with a line in the sand. Some never even have to get close. Others are constantly letting waves, wind, footprints obliterate the line and then we move and mark it again. Sparring Partner and I did that numerous times. The IUIs, the IVFs, the donor sperm…and each time we drew a line in the sand, we ended up going beyond it. But that's the beauty, too, about that line. It's is where YOU want it to be even though it sucks ass to have to not only reach it, but cross it. I don't know what your clinic will decide or recommend. I've been meaning to drop hints about donor embryos as well, but that's just another line in the sand to consider. I know.
I'm sorry Shelli. And I really hope the two of you can find a way to try again and find your way to a second child. Somehow this doesn't feel over. I agree with your man – this can't be it, can it? Good luck and keep us posted.
I totally 2nd Kim- the next one should be on your clinic.I am so happy that you & S have each other- your relationship is so inspiring and beautiful. I am so sad for the call, but glad that you were pulled back from the closet. Please let us internets know if there is anything we can do to help build the path for you guys.xoxo
I ❤ you.I'm glad that you said something. In my personal, worthless opinion, the next one is on them! I will never understand why the stars couldn't align for you this one damn time.
After everything you have been through, I think finding a good therapist should be a top priority. Someone who you and S. could go to together. Therapy can really shed some light at the end of a long and dark tunnel. Something I think you deserve to find.
Well………sh*t. Ditto what C said. And good for you, pulling those big girl pants on!! You get you some answers, honey-bunny. I hope the docs can cough up something satisfactory. Hang in there…..also wishing you peace and sending hugs…..
There are so many parts of this I want to comment on–this was like 12 entries in one. Your words today were amazing. And inspiring. You are not alone in this–you have a wonderful husband to help you find your way. And you are right–who the hell knows what that is right now–but you will find out together. I wish you peace, S.