I had no idea how quickly all of my optimism could be washed away. I had no idea I could miss something I never had. I had no idea that it actually could feel worse than before.
Last time I wrote, I was talking about how I had 4 follicles growing. I didn’t surge when the doctor thought I would. I went back the next day, Tuesday, and saw Dr. C who said that rather than wait any longer, she wanted to give me a trigger shot to force ovulation. She said that there were two follicles that were the same size and there was a “backup” as well and since I was on cycle day 18, she wanted to go ahead and force ovulation to happen. So in addition to my almost daily internal ultrasounds and having a needle shoved into my veins more often than most people would like, I got to get a shot. In my stomach. I thought Cody was going to pass out and I was going to either be a second before or after him. Thankfully, he was fine, I was fine, and the needle didn’t hurt at all. I was told to light some candles and get busy on Wednesday and Thursday and come back to the clinic on Friday.
Well no pressure or anything… sex when you’re told when to do it: not so enjoyable. Knowing everything is (ha.ha.) riding on it zaps away most of the fun to that act. We did what we needed to do and I was sure that this was going to be it. I foolishly convinced myself that it was just going to work, nothing else to it. 1. We knew the exact right time to do what we needed to do. 2. I had 3 eggs to rely on – that’s got to help a lot! 3. We would have conceived on Valentine’s Day.
On Friday, I saw Dr. R again… he told me that yes, I did ovulate and that I released 3 eggs. I was told to come back in a week for blood work to make sure my levels for some hormone or another were right. After that test, I would be called if something was too low. I never got the call, so I went about life as normally as I could. One week later (yesterday), I was making a much longer drive to the clinic for a pregnancy test.
The time between the trigger shot and the pregnancy test might as well have been a month long. It was also torture for me. I researched anything I could – which could not have been good for my mental health. I also had some mood swings, I was exhausted, my entire body was tender, and the cramps. Ohhhhh, the cramps. I looked all of this up. Was it a side effect to the shot? Was it a sign of pregnancy? What “day past ovulation” was I? What are typical pregnancy indicators on that day? Was it my period? All of the things I was feeling was very typical to how my period normally starts – but something would be just slightly different (example: I get cramps a day or two before my period starts, but these cramps were over a week before my scheduled period). And because there was a slight difference, I convinced myself that it was going to be pregnancy. I looked up forums online and was delighted to read that so many women thought that Aunt Flo was making an appearance, only to find out that they were pregnant. Maybe it would be the same for me.
I didn’t allow myself to be openly optimistic about it. I consistently told Cody that I thought my period was coming. I told him I’d be insane to believe that we’d be successful on the first try. I also started looking at baby nursery themes on Pinterest. I’d pin something – but to a private board so no one who “follows” me would know that I was even trying to get pregnant. Or wishing, praying, and hoping that it was going to happen soon.
The night before my pregnancy test, the morning of the test, right after the test, and while I was waiting for my results, I went to the washroom no less than 20 times to make sure I didn’t get my period. There was nothing (much to my delight!) and I figured that it had to mean I was going to me a Mama. Afterall, how can your period be late when you’ve had so much intervention to making sure it was a “perfect” cycle? Shouldn’t that mean you should have your period on the exact right day or not at all since you’d have been successful?
I talked to the doctor while my blood was being drawn. I asked her if there was even a good chance that it could have worked and she was so optimistic. Why not? – she said. I had had a perfect cycle, responded very well to all of the medications and Cody’s sperm was perfect. There was, apparently, a good possibility that it would come back positive. Not good enough, though.
I was to call back between 1 and 2 that afternoon. I called at 1:05. I counted down the 5 hours to that call. When I identified who I was, I was transferred to another person to get my results. Just the way she greeted me I knew the result… “Unfortunately, it came back negative this time…You’ll get your period and you come back here on the third day… meet with the doctor to see what to do next.”.
I did not anticipate how much worse it would be to hear my pregnancy test result from a stranger using what felt like a patronizing tone (but looking back, I see that it was empathy and/or sympathy). I was humiliated to know that she felt sorry for me because my hopes were crushed right then and she knew I was going to bawl when we got off of the phone. When I hung up with her, I don’t think I even told Cody the result before I burst into tears.
I could have filled a lake with tears. I didn’t stop crying for a while. I was so mad and frustrated. When I calmed down enough to speak, I think I was able to convey to Cody that I was just sad and discouraged. Why can’t I have a baby? What could I have possibly done during my life to make it impossible to get (and stay) pregnant in 3 years of trying?
Later that night, I checked our voice-mail and there was a message for me. My heart stopped and I thought it was the clinic calling to tell me there was a mistake! I didn’t get my period – and still don’t have it – so maybe they were wrong! Turns out it was an invitation to a make-up/makeover event. Apt, I guess. I’m sure I could buy some things to hide the redness in my face caused from crying… or something to make my face less puffy… or something to highlight my eyes, since the tears have made them look shiny and glossy. Make me up so that no one know just how entirely devastated I am.