And, I’ve put it off all day.
I’m not pregnant.
Three simply words. A whole heck of a lot of emotion behind them. Timon will always be in our hearts, but he/she won’t be our rainbow baby, unfortunately.
When I got the call yesterday, I managed to stay composed enough that the fertility doctor thought I must have done a home pregnancy test and likely knew I wasn’t pregnant. But, really…I knew if I started I wouldn’t stop. Once I got off, I crumbled, emotionally and physically. It’s the most emotional I’ve been during this process. The disappointment made my body physically hurt, and I had the unfortunate task of telling Chris and our donors. Heartbreaking.
The somewhat good news is that my estrogen and progesterone levels were perfect for Timon to survive. But, again, bad luck seemed to play a role.
While we will be grieving this unique loss, we have a rough plan to transfer our final embryo in the next few months. No definite dates. No timeline. And, as much as that hurts this planner’s heart, we need time to mourn.
We’ll continue to be open, because I don’t know how to do this in the shadows any longer. We appreciate everyone’s love, prayers, positive thoughts, and baby dust. It made the world of difference to us, even though things didn’t go as we had hoped. Thank you for being on this journey through the highs and lows.
Lately, I’ve been asked a lot about how I’m “feeling.” I never know if people are asking physically due to the medication or emotionally.
I suspect both. And, I answer honestly in person, and I will here, too.
Physically? I’m pretty much my normal self. The medicines I’m taking don’t affect me as much as the ones I would need for an IVF retrieval. With embryo adoption, we were able to skip all that. My progesterone shots are causing more soreness than our mock cycle, but it’s tolerable. I need to buy a heating pad since the one I’ve been using is pretty much dead. I’m hoping that putting heat on the injection site will help (as I feel it has in the past).
Emotionally? I’m a mix bag. While some call me a pessimist, I like to call myself a realist. I typically prepare for the worst and hope for the best. So, I’m hopeful, nervous, and excited. I know what disappointment looks like. I’ve had countless cycles of disappointment. And, maybe because I don’t know what the excitement of pregnancy is like I can’t “see” it as well. I desperately want this cycle to be successful. I want Emma to have a sibling. I want more children. I don’t want to disappoint the donors. I know they don’t feel that way, but being on the receiving end of such an amazing gift, I feel it’s only natural to worry about their feelings in all this. With all that said, I still feel the most content I’ve ever felt during a treatment cycle. I know what to expect and having a little one does preoccupy most of my thoughts. I’m thankful for that.
For now, we have to wait 3 days for the transfer and then, wait another 2 weeks to find out if all this effort was worth it. Fingers crossed it is.