IVF 2: What happened after I fell silent..

This is going to be a triggering post which mentions that hated and yet rejoiced word beginning with P. If you’re unable to cope with reading about that right now then please do protect yourself and skip this post. I’m writing about this because in a way my blog needs closure and I also need writing as therapy.

The last time I wrote about IVF 2 I was going through beta hell and I was suffering from severe cramps. I was pretty much at my lowest. Dr Oracle moved my scan forward and the outcome was that we saw a small gestational sac (measuring behind) but the most beautiful angelic looking yolk. I was told not to get my hopes up, the sac might have been in the right place but it wasn’t the correct size. Yet, all I could do was fixate my memory on the halo that was now sitting in my womb. At that point every part of me traveled inwards, an invisible shield shot up around me and all I could do was pray to stop me from falling apart. I decided to stop writing and talking about it due to a number of reasons:

1. Going quiet is my way of dealing with stress and anxiety. If I don’t focus on it and avoid talking about it constantly then I can use the energy to focus on other areas of my life and it stops me from falling into depression.

2. My closest friends here were suffering awful cycles and outcomes. As my pregnancy showed signs of progression, I didn’t want to bombard their WordPress and Twitter feeds with pregnancy talk. It also never seemed the right time to say ‘Hey guess what? I’m pregnant but nervous as hell.’ After thinking about it, I decided that until I felt confident in the pregnancy there was little point mentioning it. It’s funny how the milestone of viability kept moving – 8-9wks, 12wks, 20wks, 24wks, 28wks.. it was only around 24wks that I finally told my real life circle and even then I still felt as if the rug might be pulled from under me at any time. I just didn’t want to count my chicken before he hatched (the same way I didn’t want to get excited about egg numbers during IVF).

I said to my IF buddy BB that it was my turn to be strong for her and other friends. I may have been going crazy from anxiety but it was still a positive and progressing pregnancy. I think Turtle summed it up nicely when she wrote:

I wrote this back in May:

You see… I remember the rawness of the pain, the feeling of doors closing and being left behind.
I remember how it’s so easy to fall into the wrong side of the statistic and so hard to be on the right side.
I remember how tough it is to get yourself out of bed after a failed IVF cycle.
I remember how my bruises were reminders of a battle I lost.
I remember worrying about how to finance another round and watching the pressure it puts on a marriage.
I remember putting on a mask to survive and wondering how you can feel so dead when you’re so alive.
I remember how much effort it takes to get yourself back on track.
I remember the pain in my partner’s eyes.
I remember how each baby post I read made me feel helpless. How each bump picture seemed liked an unachievable dream.
I remember and that’s why I didn’t write. The timing wasn’t right to be writing about a pregnancy – even if the journey is far from perfect. I don’t know whether this pregnancy is here to stay but I do know that this blog isn’t for me to write about pregnancy or raising a child.

So those of you I went quiet on… forgive me. I did it because you were suffering at the time and it just didn’t feel right announcing it while you were in pain. The great thing is that so many of you have now moved on with successful pregnancies.

3. Women who were cycling at the same time as me with promising betas started to experience losses. I was conscious of their pain and the possibility that I was going to join them very soon.

These are some snippets I wrote during Spring 2014:

I’m really scared that this baby will stop growing. I can’t even bring myself to write because I don’t feel secure. I tell myself that I won’t get attached but I already am so in awe of what I saw. Even if it’s just flesh and bone.

I just wonder whether I’m going to be writing about birth or miscarriage.

I decided I’d write when I feel secure on whatever the reality and outcome. Since the last post, my anxiety has been through the roof and I’m not even sure how I’m still functioning and moving.

But my low betas of 37, 111, 297 have led to the birth of my son on 8 January. He arrived two weeks early and was delivered via a category 1 c-section. He’s still in hospital as he’s tiny and needs some help with feeding. That’s another story that I won’t be sharing on this blog. If/when I get time to I might open a new blog but first I’d like to update this blog with posts about hypnotherapy, nutrition and all the small things that helped me survive 2014’s IVF cycle.

Fertility Doll will stay focused on infertility – that I can promise to those stuck in the trenches. I invested a ridiculous amount in alternative therapies so I when I’m healed and in a routine I want to pass on that knowledge.

All I can say is a huge thank you to all of you who supported me and interacted with this blog over the last couple of years. You’ve been my sanctuary.

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About Fertility Doll

I opened Pandora's box and infertility entered my life.

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REVIEW – Ovusense Real Time Fertility Monitor – Part Two ›

Tagged with: infertility, IVF, pregnancy
Posted in Infertility, pregnancy