And Then There Were None

And so, with the bright red spotting I am having today, I think it’s safe to assume that our foray into IVF has failed. Our ten thousand dollar baby is not to be. No more Malcolm Reynolds. No baby for us.

We’re tired. We are sad. But, I think, we are not surprised.

We tell ourselves, But we still have each other. But we still have a roof over our heads. But we still have the girls. But we still have…

We try not to look at the things that make us sad. The fact that we will never have children running through the house. No little one to call us Mommy or Daddy. Never feeling a baby kick or move inside me. Never having someone to sing lullabies to. No hopes and dreams for a family.

We had to do a lot of work to get the money to afford this. We had to choose: spend it on the possibility of our own biological child, or spend it on the nearly sure thing of having a child through adoption. We wanted to try to have a biological child. We gambled. We lost. And so, we are left with neither. Some times it works out that way.

We went into a restaurant for a bit of lunch. And as we sat there, the hostess sat a couple and their 2 year old at the next table. The woman was pregnant. A few tables over was another pregnant woman. It was like some sick cosmic joke. All through this process, we’ve been surrounded by pregnant women, couples with babies, parents telling us about what their child did today. So we decided to get the rest of lunch “to go”, and come home. For the next little while, we want to separate ourselves from that world. We know the world does not revolve around us, that women will continue to have babies and parents will continue to tell us about their children, but for awhile, we want to shut that world out. It is not a world that we will likely ever be a part of, and so we need time to get used to that.

I know, theoretically, that there is still a chance that we might be pregnant. But it would be foolish to pin hopes on such a statistically small chance. I have learned from experience not to hope anymore. It is too hard. We need facts now. We need realism. If we know what the facts are, we can deal with them and move on. We cannot live for what ifs and maybes and possibilities any longer.

13 thoughts on “And Then There Were None

  1. Oh Cinn. I am heartbroken. I am so sorry that it didn’t work. I know that I can’t possibly know what you’re going through, but I care and I wish there was something I could do to make things right.
    You and BDH are wonderful and loving and I value you both so much.
    I’ll be thinking of you and I’ll be around if you want to talk. I won’t call, I’ll wait until you feel up to it.
    I love you both.

  2. I have absolutely no idea what to say, Cinn and BDH. I have no idea at all what you have been through and are going through, me being from “the other world” I won’t even pretend I do and try to smooth things over, as is my nurturing instinct to try to make everything alright. Please just know that we love you and pray every day that sometime soon, somehow, you will find the peace you deserve. Big hugs, kisses, and tears from home.

  3. I love you so much and I wish that there was some way for me to make things right. My heart’s breaking for you right now. Like Kelly, I’ll be around if you want to talk.

  4. Thanks guys. I appreciate the support.

    I am currently drowning my sorrows in a giant box of cheap chocolate bars leftover from Halloween. I still have to wait until at least Tuesday to go and get an official blood test, so I can’t even drink away my sorrows until then. And I have to keep taking my progesterone, which sucks royally. And is pretty gross.

    I hate this. I need a whole lot of money to drop out of the sky and solve a bunch of my problems right now. But since that is not going to happen… cheap chocolate and some nice tea will have to do.

    At least I don’t have cramps to add insult to injury.

  5. I often think of all the things I could do for all the people I love if only I could win the lottery.

    Sigh.

    I guess I should at least buy a ticket, huh?

    *off to come up with numbers*

  6. Pie would be good right now. Possibly a nice dutch apple pie. Or maybe bumbleberry.

    Anyone got any pie?

    I’m thinking a nice warm slice of pie would not go amiss right now.

  7. I don’t have pie, but I do have fresh pumpkin bread. I think I may make some bread pudding with it tomorrow.

  8. Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so very sorry and utterly heartbroken for you. I love you.

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