Home > Stim Cycle #13 > My Stupidity

My Stupidity

AF didn’t come Friday the 2nd, when it was due.  In fact, it didn’t come all weekend.  I started to let that false friend, hope, into my life.  Hope lived with me all weekend, causing me to calculate dates in my head instead of sleep, tempting me to buy a cute ABC rug (I resisted), and making me feel, well, hopeful.

My blood test was scheduled for Tuesday.  My Monday morning when AF still hadn’t shown, in my brain I was pregnant.  I was terrified but wanting to be excited from the beginning ‘this time’.  With Blobby, I spent too much time keeping distance from him in my head and not believing entirely I was pregnant.  It was like I thought it would be easier to deal with the possibility of the pregnancy ending if I didn’t give into it entirely.   No matter how many times a doctor told me everything was normal and well and the chances of me miscarrying were microscopic, I couldn’t help being scared.  (And who was right in the end, eh?)  Which I later learned was stupid; I couldn’t feel anything but love for him when we met and my only regret is holding anything back while he was within me.

Monday I walked into work, pregnant in my head, and noting shops I wanted to visit as soon as my blood test was over.  That morning I’d been roped into conducting some training, so I set up the wireless network in the conference room and pottered around until it was time for attendees to arrive.  I ducked into the loo one last time to see me through the couple hours of training – and there it was.  AF.  I started blubbering, just when I had no time to.  Then back into a full room of trainees I went.  I don’t know how I got through that training, all those eyes looking at me and listening to the words coming out of my mouth.  I was an automaton and cared nothing about what I was saying.  I cared nothing about whether they were learning what they’d need to know: I just wanted it to be over and done.

When I was released from all those eyes of strangers, I had to go through lunch with friends.  Friends that I could have told what had happened, but I didn’t because I couldn’t articulate it and I didn’t want to ruin the visit of our friend down from Melbourne.  So just me in my quiet corner of the pub, putting on that brave smile we’ve all smiled so many times.

I left work early as the afternoon of holding everything in was too exhausting.  I only lost a few tears on the way to my car, I lost control a bit at a red light but got it back together quickly.  I was so relieved to be on slower surface streets and looked forward so much to my driveway.  I pulled in and just gave in to the tears.  I’d started that morning with a pregnant brain – I’d spent the weekend thinking it was true.  But it was over.  I didn’t have to worry when this pregnancy would hit 14 weeks 2 days, I didn’t need to know a due date, I didn’t need to remember that the conception date was the 6 month-iversary of Blobby’s death.

I didn’t go to work on Tuesday, and I made my husband call the IVF unit to let them know about yet another BFN as I knew I wouldn’t be able to get the words out of my mouth without crying.

I feel so stupid for thinking I was pregnant for those few days.  Of course I wasn’t – it was just the Pregnyl and Crinone.  How could I do this to myself?  How could I set myself up for so much disappointment and heartache?  I don’t get pregnant – what was I thinking?

  1. a
    09/07/2010 at 1:12 am

    Rationality cannot control hope. If it does, you’ll know that you’ve given up (at least, that’s my experience). You’re not stupid.

  2. 11/07/2010 at 1:53 pm

    I’m so sorry for your BFN. It’s impossible not to be hopeful.

  3. 12/07/2010 at 8:07 pm

    Honey I am so sorry I haven’t commented yet. I thought about it for a day or so because I wanted to write something really comforting, but the reality is there are no words. You have every right to be devastated and angry at your hormones. I wish I could be there to hold you and give you hope, support and anything to make you feel better. If you need me, just let me know. Remember you’re not alone right now.

  4. 26/07/2010 at 9:04 am

    Following you from AMB. My IVF story has been a short one so far, but I feel that I’m coming to understand everything you’ve expressed in this post. I’m typing this with my own tears; I’m so sorry that this is such a difficult and painful journey. Something that is so simple for some, shouldn’t need to be this hard for others. Please don’t feel stupid for thinking that you were pregnant, I don’t think you can start an IVF cycle without the hope of what is possible. And yes, those synthetic hormones do play cruel tricks.
    Sorry to comment on an old post; I hope I haven’t dredged up something that you’ve put behind you.

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