(Originally posted in LiveJournal)
Turns out, my 4 year old son’s preschool teacher is pregnant. I would like to be happy for her, and I suppose there’s a part of me that really is, but mostly it just really made me sad. We’ve come to that point in fertility treatments that when people say, “Your son is so great. When are you two going to have another one?”, we’ve finally started just telling people the truth. “2 years and 3 miscarriages later, we haven’t had much luck in that department. We’re still trying, but it’s not easy going.” And the response now isn’t along the lines of keep the faith or keep trying, it’s, “Well, you have to be glad then that you have your son and that he’s so fantastic.” I get it, there aren’t a lot of ways to respond to that information. But, I am pretty beat down by all of this and that sort of external feedback just doesn’t help. Everyone knows what I know – this probably isn’t going to happen. And they have some finality in their sentiment – and that’s a finality I just can’t accept.
I’m prepping for a frozen embryo transfer. But there’s not a single piece of me that thinks it could work. As a matter of fact, I’m rather convinced at this point that none of the blastocysts are going to survive the thaw. Not that I have any good reason to believe that other than none of this has gone very well for us, so why would this be any different? I also worry that my negative attitude could be a factor, but I don’t know how to fix that. How do you convince yourself to be positive and hopeful after all of this?
I am going to acupuncture Monday, I am hoping that helps not only my body, but also my mind. In all likelihood, I’ll be flat out on that table bawling by the time my hour is over. Compliments of my estrogen patches.
It’s like those damn pathches have a direct connection to my tear ducts and I cry. A lot.
Anyway, off to coddle my estrogen patches and have a little cry…