Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A short, beautiful ride

It's over. The doctor is taking me off all progesterone and estrogen.  My number today was 115, and the last little speck of hope blew out the window when the nurse said no more progesterone.  I can't believe it, I even thought for a second after I heard that number that maybe it was just slow.  After all of this, I still wanted to hold on. 

So let's talk.  Frankly.  I was very close to writing a cynical and dark post about the failure I'm feeling or the bastard that is "hope".  But then I read through my last post's comments (those amazing comments...thank you), and I realized that there are so many reasons to not run over hope with my car, several times, no matter what this disgusting feeling I have makes me want to do. Let's examine that a little further.

Hope makes me angry, it makes me want to stomp around and hold my breath and throw a glorious little toddler tantrum like you all know I'm way too good at. It makes me want to vomit.  But it also gave me an amazing few days of feeling


 I got to have it for a little while, whether it was way too short or way too small.  And it may have been pathetic to hope, with the way those nurses looked at me every time I came into the office- that pity look.  The one that says "aw hun, you're cute for believing...we feel for you, and this is gonna be a hard crash you feel later. But maybe...maybe..."  But I got to feel it.  And it was beautiful. That's the only word I can think of to really describe it.

This hurts like hell.  I don't want to think about how we have to start all over.  Or how we only have a couple more chances, if that.  Or the genetic testing Dr. Z wants to try.  After a good solid cry at my office (absolutely in front of more than three people- totally against my code of conduct) I decided I was done for the day.  My splotchy face and bright red eyes weren't going to cut it at work today.  So I'll hug my husband, I'll let my cat entertain me, I'll talk to all of you...and I'll sulk.  And then tomorrow, maybe, I'll remind myself that there is a silver lining.  That we got pregnant, no matter how doomed it was from the beginning.  And I'll remind myself that we can be a success story later.  That we WILL be a success story later.  In the right time.


  1. I am so, so sorry. I am praying that you will have peace in this situation (the crazy only from Jesus kind that we can't possibly understand), and that the next time will BE the right time.

  2. I will still hold on to a little hope for you. I've heard stranger things of happening with one of the nurses at my clinic-her Beta actually DROPPED and then went up. So, I dunno. But, if it doesn't work out I just wanted to let you know how incredibly sorry I am. HUGS!!! You are pregnant (I HATE THE TERM CHEMICAL PREGNANCY) until the very end. God Bless!

  3. I am so sorry. I can't believe how strong you sound, good for you!

  4. Oh no. I was hoping for you. I am so, so sorry that your level dropped. I know how much this hurts. Hearing those words to stop when all you want to do is hang on to what you've got with everything you have in you is a horrible feeling. I've had it happen to me, too. Hugs.

    Give yourself the time to grieve this loss. We'll be here to hold you up while you are down. Then, when you are ready, we are going to help you with a whole lot of questions/info for the WTF? meeting with your RE. You will reach your dream. You will. I feel it.

    Much love.

  5. I am so sad for you right now, but I can't wait to tell your success story. It will be amazing, like all your stories have been. God works miracles in your life and He has from the very beginning. I, like Nicole, am praying for His peace for you right here, right now. You will get through this...and then you will tell your story.
    Love to you and B.

  6. I am so sorry, Sweetie! I was on this ride myself, last October.

    Because of how mine turned out, I have to ask - is your doctor going to have to do an ultrasound to rule out ectopic? I don't mean to push any buttons, but I would feel horrible if I didn't ask.

  7. No matter what happens you experienced a part of pregnancy and nobody can take that away from you. You are getting closer to your dream and you know now that you can get pregnant. I read blogs all of the time and I see patterns right before the women get pregnant. Often they their first pregnancy isn't viable but within a couple of months they experience success.
    By the way my cousins number dropped and she was told her pregnancy was not viable and she ended up having her beautiful daughter Charlotte who is healthy and wonderful so you never know.
    Take care of yourself, this limbo really sucks and it must be torture. I don't know why we all have to go through so much.

  8. I knew when i didnt get your call, that was a bad sign. and im not gonna say im sorry because you've heard that. This wasnt it. Not according the the big man upstairs. he's got different plans for you.. a different time line in mind. So dont get to down. Im confident it will happen. Just not this time. Remember he works in mysterious ways.. sometimes hurtful on the outside but you know he has nothing but love for you on the inside.
    Get back on the horse and try again.
    I love you.
    -JJ, king of Beepers

  9. Oh shit hun, I'm sorry. You are being amazingly strong, stronger than what I am right now. I agree with what u say about hope, that wonderful feeling, that thing that keeps u going. Sadly it is also very painful.

  10. I was sent here by Stacie at Heeeeere Storkey, Storkey! Just wanted to tell you I'm sorry this pregnancy is not working out. I agree that Hope can have two very different sides to it, and most of the time I seem to choose the positive one. Yes, you did get pregnant and that is good news. Next time will be different, I'm sure of it!

    Big hugs from someone who's been there!

  11. Sent here by Stacie at Heeeeere Storkey, Storkey!...I am so, so sorry. It hurts like hell to go through a loss no matter how early it is. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

  12. I'm so very sorry. I'm just so sorry.