Seriously, I want to know.
I once heard this ridiculous rumor that a man and woman have intercourse and a child is conceived.
Despite giving it our best efforts, things didn’t turn out the way I had hoped (I hate that word). I had my 4th and final IUI about two weeks ago. The procedure went really well actually. I was very happy that the IUI was on a Saturday which meant my husband was there. I was also pleased that the RE, not the weekend nurse, performed the procedure. My husband’s sperm count was also great.
For some reason, the RE said that I had a good shot this time. I guess I misunderstood. He obviously meant I had a good shot at it not working.
I don’t regret doing this IUI. I don’t regret the money spent or the time invested. However, I do regret having hope (there’s that word again). Originally, I planned to go into this with a “This is a last-ditch effort, so don’t you dare get your hopes up or even think about it afterwards” attitude. Well, I turned my back for one minute and hope took off like an airplane leaving the runway. I wanted to retain some sort of control but once again I am reminded that I have no control.
Let me tell you, my body should win an Emmy for Lead Role in Showing Absolutely No PMS Symptoms. Usually, I know when my period is going to arrive: mild cramps, upset stomach, acne from hell, and the appearance of melancholic, yet vitriolic emotions. I had none of those. I guess I psychosomatically erased them or something. To make matters worse, when my period did start (which started off rather black-looking for some reason) I rationalized it away. How dumb can I be? A period is a period no matter what color it looks like or how many cramps you do or do not have.
I wanted this. Badly. I let myself hope for it and once again hope has made me a fool.
I should know better. If 3 IUI’s aren’t going to work, what on Earth made me think, for even one minute, a 4th one would? Maybe for someone else, but not this girl. This is me we are talking about.
If I’m being perfectly honest, my dreams haven’t been coming true for a while now. Time seems to be standing perfectly still and flying at the same time. My personal life (meaning establishing a family) and my work life (which is another post for another time)–I keep waiting for things to change and they don’t. I just don’t have much to look forward to anymore.
I’m sorry. I do not get it. I have ovaries. I have tubes. I have a uterus. My ovaries have eggs. My tubes are clear. My uterus is intact. I’m not making this stuff up.
I have long since accepted the fact that there are no easy answers, but what do you do when there are no answers at all? I can’t help it. I have to have something. I have to have a reason. I have to have something instead of an indifferent universe. I can’t just sit in a corner and pretend that everything is just wonderful when it is not.
Sorry this is such a miserable post. If I can get these words down, they have less power over me. Then maybe, just maybe, I may gain an ounce of control in this world.