"Edited to Add"....

This started as a pregnancy blog when I fell pregnant in May 2009 after four years of finding a donor, doing all the counselling / paperwork / tests and trying.

And now, thanks to a 4WD which skidded onto our side of the road, killing our baby daughter at 34w and injuring me, my partner and two of my stepdaughters on 27 December 2009, it has turned into something else. We didn't want this something else, but apparently it is all we've got to go on with.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Thaw cycle #2 associated melancholy

I've kind of been hiding, feeling a bit sheepish, because although the last post I wrote was very true at the time, all my own optimism and philosophising feels very hollow now. I'd weathered our BFN from our last ivf cycle reasonably well, and was just relieved that we at least got a clear answer this time. But then I got some tricky work news a week ago and suddenly the bubble burst and things feel impossible again. Just moving my limbs feels like hard work and every decision a drama.

I can read that poem, but at the moment it just makes me cry, because having a daughter who is a star, rain, the ocean, and freaking fuschia buds feels like a pretty rough consolation prize. Just the thought of another thaw cycle made me cry, not because of the procedure or anything like that, but because I'm so exhausted with hope and so sick of history repeating. I know other women have been through many more cycles, but that's what I'm afraid of - that this will just go on and on. I don't know how you (amazing ivf veterans) do it!

I'd just turned thirty the first time El Prima and I sat in a doctor's office hoping to get pregnant, and next week I'll be thirty five. Friends who started their families around that time are onto their third child. I know it's not a race, I know comparisons are odious, but I'm so weary of failing at this. 'Fail' is an awful word, I know that doesn't help things, but I'm stuck between wanting a living child and knowing that there is nothing on earth that can make that a certainty. We're doing everything we can to up the chances, but we still have to play this bloody lottery, stake our hearts again and again, betting like the baby-hungry suckers that we are.

When I was about six, and had figured out the whole where babies came from thing, and realised that I was a girl and would hopefully be eligible for the deal, I told my friends I wanted to have ONE HUNDRED BABIES. We had earnest discussions about the logistics - I was happy to have them four at a time if necessary. Ha! (ouch!)

I've revised my expectations these days. Even when I thought I was being adult and realistic I was hoping for 2 or 3, though I found it hard to imagine. Now I'd settle just for one living child. Z counts as one, of course she does. Even on the rough days, I'm so proud of her. But I'd like to try parenting a living child too.