The holidays are coming. Each year, I wish and hope so much that this will be the year that we'll get pregnant, that I'll be able to make an announcement at a holiday that we're adding to the family. Each year brings disappointment and sadness in that respect. This year will be no different.
At what point do we give up hope? I know other women get pregnant and have babies into their 40's, but I don't think that's the path that I'll follow. Do I go with the progesterone that was a 6.1 on day 21? Do I go with the fact that my AMH was tested but I wasn't given the numbers, but now Dr. Cool and the Gang want me to come in for a follow-up to see what protocol I should follow for the treatments we don't even know if we can afford since the price tag varies wildly between 6k and 12k with medications?
When we got married, I had stars and hope in my eyes. I was sure this was going to be easy, that I'd have a baby within a year or so. Now I'm looking at what is probably the end of my journey towards a child without ever getting the chance to try. It hurts. It hurts so much I can't breathe at times. It hurts so much that at times, I can't even cry. Other times, the tears fall unbidden at the site of something as innocent as a baby bootie left behind by a child who doesn't like to keep their feet covered. Seeing J's baby sister is a knife of unimaginable pain. I wish so much that we had been the ones to give her a sibling, to bring a new life into the world.
One of my co-workers who knows about our struggles has an infant son. She is of the well-meaning but clueless camp. She likes to tell me about how all I need to do is relax and I'll get pregnant so quick I won't believe how easy it was. When I try to explain that there are medical reasons that I'm unable to conceive, she tells me that the doctors are wrong and I should just be more at ease with myself. Ah, if only that were the key to all of our struggles, ignore the doctors and relax. Just think of how easily infertility could be cured!
As I've said so many times before, I wish that it was easier for us, that the miscarriage all those years ago had not happened. I want a child that calls me Mom. The fact that it's very unlikely to happen hurts. I wonder what I did to deserve this, but I know that it's something that happens, that I didn't do anything to cause it. I know that by the time spring arrives here, my journey will have ended one way or another. It's coming and the knowledge it may end up childless hurts.