I was not surprised at this third negative pregnancy test, because the few symptoms that had started to give me hope began to disappear the weekend before. As my breast tenderness decreased dramatically within a few days, I could only assume that my natural levels of progesterone were beginning to drop, and that any residual soreness was due to the supplement. I was so convinced that I didn't even have that tough of a time waiting until the day of the blood test before taking a home test. And I didn't even cry. I felt disappointed and I felt sad, but it was a continuation of the disappointment and sadness that I'd been feeling for several days since I felt my body getting ready for a period.
I didn't cry for an entire week, until the night we went out to dinner with my friend Allyson and her husband and they announced that they were having a baby. Now it hit me. I smiled and squealed and congratulated her and kept talking excitedly in order to keep myself distracted and keep my bubbling emotions under control. She said that they were planning to do a big reveal at that Saturday's housewarming party but that she didn't want me caught off guard in a crowd because she knows how sensitive this is. I reassured her, because I really don't want to take away from her joy and don't want her to have to walk on eggshells around me because I'm not pregnant yet. I already know that when it's my turn, there are people struggling to conceive that I will have difficulty sharing the news with. I don't want her to feel that way, even though I know it's natural.
But this is the first time such news DID really hurt. I think it's because we haven't been in this place when other people close to us have gotten pregnant. I might have been emotionally ready, but we weren't financially so we hadn't started trying. Yes, I was impatient for it to be our turn, but I knew our turn was coming, and soon, so it didn't take anything away from my genuine joy for the parents-to-be. It never felt like it had anything to do with me. We hadn't started down that path yet, so it wasn't a race!
But this time, we have. No, it's still not a race, but it's not just a matter of "when." It's a matter of how, and how much, and what do we do next, and when do we draw a line and try something else, and will this happen before my agency's maternity leave policy drastically changes for the worse in exactly one year. And this is a friend who started trying at the same time as me. She came off of birth control the same month we first went for insemination, and we talked excitedly about raising kids side by side and even being pregnant together. She hasn't kept me updated since then, so I had assumed it hadn't happened for them yet either and she just didn't want to talk about it. But that wasn't why she didn't want to talk about it.
So she got pregnant the first time. She came off her birth control, made love to her husband, and conceived a child. Just like that. I've taken odd comfort in knowing that even for straight couples, it isn't so easy. That it isn't always a romantic sexual experience. That it can be frustrating and a lot of pressure and can up-end people's sex lives when they have to follow a schedule and consummate on demand. But my friend had the best case scenario, and I'm struggling to be happy for her. I would never, ever wish this on her, but I am feeling envious. And going to her party where half of their friends had babies with them did not ease it. My heart hurt and my arms felt empty. I felt sad watching her be welcomed into the fold of young parents and knowing our own circle is waiting impatiently with us for us to join them.
It's easy to say "be patient, your time will come" - but we are now $12,000 in and have no idea when this will happen. We've run out of money. We had to charge half of this final cycle, and if it doesn't work, will have to take a break for a few months to save up all over again for even one or two more cycles. There is a lot at stake that makes it very difficult to just let go.
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