Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Fuck you world.... just fuck right on off.

My temp tanked this morning.  It's too damn early too if you ask me but at least my body is giving me time to rebound before I have to pretend that I'm not trying to tape my soul back together after this latest in a very long string of disappointments.  Last LP was 15 days... this one is looking like 10.  Whatever.  I'll blame it on the Clomid.

My natural defense mechanism is to turn pain into anger and I'm really fucking pissed off right now.  I can't begin to tell you how much I hate this shit.  All this shit.  I hate temping, I hate worrying about what meds I can take, I hate that my poor vag seems just fucking pissed off all the time because of the shit I put it through, I hate that I can't just make love to my husband without doing some crazy unromantic shit afterward, I hate taking extra pills every day.  I hate it all and I'm not sure how much longer I can do it.

I've been slowly getting myself used to the fact that I will live a childless life.  Honestly, given everything that's happened, maybe it won't be the worst thing in the world.  Anything has to be better than this.  I've gone through a wider gamut of emotion than I thought I was capable of.  When I was 18, married and suddenly being harassed by my biological clock, I was so full of hope.  Even though I had previously lived my life thinking I would never have kids, I thought "surely that's all in my head" and "I'll be pregnant by the end of the month!"  Oh what a series of failures that was.  I was shocked at each negative pregnancy test as I still thought back then that anyone could get pregnant at any time during their cycle... all I had to do was stop taking the pill and I'd be set.  I was so naive, as most women are when they first start trying.  After a year of disappointments, I think most of me gave up.  My marriage was already starting to suck and I was slowly realizing that bringing a baby into that would have been a very bad idea, so I never really tried.  I never went back on the pill and we didn't prevent but it was never something I really strove for.  After 5 years, we divorced and my baby dreams were put aside while I fixed myself.

By the time I started trying the second time, I knew it wasn't going to be easy.  I started educating myself and began charting.  We only managed to try for 6 months before that relationship imploded so I wasn't shocked that I wasn't successful.  At least I made leaps and bounds in my own growth and would be completely prepared when I finally found the right man.

Adam and I weren't married yet by the time we started trying.  My bass-ackwards logic said that "I like you enough to be tethered to you for the rest of my life by a child" fell somewhere between "I could be friends with you forever" and "I want to spend the rest of my life sharing the same tiny space with you" in the stages of standard relationships.  Yeah, that's fucked up but I'm being honest here.  In my defense, I was already a bit desperate for a child.  That "trying #2" business up there was when I knew I'd be a single mom and I was okay with that.  I was temping, charting, taking OPK's and monitoring ferning, the whole fucking nine my very first cycle... not that it did any good.  18 cycles later, I was ready to see a RE.  Of course, that was about the time that I got sick and had to go on birth control for 6 months.

After I got better, I hit the ground running yet again and joined a support forum this time.  I was full-on-fucking obsessed with it this go.  I was constantly googling all things TTC, pregnancy and baby related.  I'd look up my hopeful estimated due date every fucking cycle after ovulation and just torturing myself daily.  I think I needed the renewal of hope and knew that would be the only way to get it back.  After three months or so, I got the HSG and thought I cleared up a tube and fixed my problem.  After three failed cycles after that, I saw a RE.  Now I sit, in what I imagine is the final few hours of this cycle, after two failed IUI's.  I'm starting to think that enough is way fucking enough.

Sure, I could get a laparoscopy for possibly no reason other than piece of mind.  I could see if we'd get approved for financing a few rounds of IVF just to say I tried but I have no shred of confidence that it will work.  I've seen too many fail already.  I've experienced too many failures.  I just don't want to do it anymore.  I don't want to find another reason to get my hopes up, just to have them crushed and feel stupid for even thinking it was possible.  I'm tired... fucking exhausted... sick of pretending that I'm okay when I'm not.  Sick of stoic.  So close to fucking done.

Maybe this is why a person shouldn't blog while upset.  This is the blogging equivalent to drunk dialing I think and I'm sure I'm going to regret posting this after a good sleep (and perhaps a good drunk) but for now, I'm sticking to it.  I really do mean, from the bottom of my broken heart, fuck you world!  I hope you get punched in the junk.

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