BUSTED STORK

January 22 – February 3, 2016

Ten days. It’s only ten days that I needed to wait until my pregnancy blood test. During these 10 days, I tried hard to stay away from the Google search bar. Who am I kidding? I caved in the day after my embryo transfer. If you remember from my previous post about my embryo transfer, the embryologist said that if implantation was going to happen, it would happen within 48 hours after the transfer. I began Googling to see what signs I can look for with implantation. It ranged from cramping, to spotting, to absolutely nothing. This Google search didn’t get me far at all. I refused to hear again that I have a busted stork.

Not only was my mind on implantation signs constantly, but my mind was also on my entire IVF experience to include the loss of all 7 embryos. I just couldn’t stop thinking negatively. If this IVF doesn’t work, I have no embryos left. JM and I will have to start all over again from scratch— financially, mentally, and physically.

We tried very hard to keep ourselves occupied during these 10 waiting days by going out for nice dinners with friends and working longer hours. It was weird to go out to dinner and not order a glass or bottle of wine. I wasn’t afraid to share the reason why I wasn’t drinking with our friends so it was known to many what JM and I were going through. Our friends were very positive and kept reminding us that we could be pregnant right now. The thought of that kept our spirits and hopes up.

proven

On February 1st, I did the inevitable. I took an at-home pregnancy test. Mentally I was trying to prepare myself for negative pregnancy test #24. As I stood there for 300 seconds, I prayed I saw a double line. However, all I saw was one pink line. I didn’t panic. I didn’t cry. I just shook it off and convinced myself I took the test too early and tomorrow is another day.

On February 2nd, I repeated the same process and took another at-home pregnancy test. This time I took a shower while I waited for the double line to appear, but when I went to look at the strip, once again I only saw one pink line.

On February 3rd, I repeated the same process one final time. I took another at-home pregnancy test and took a shower while I waited for the double line to appear. #24. This is highly likely going to be the 24th month of an unsuccessful pregnancy. I didn’t bother to tell JM and proceeded to the doctors office that morning for the blood test. They took my blood, wished me luck and said I should get a call with the results sometime after lunch.

I got in my car and headed to work, but didn’t realize until I pulled into my office parking lot that I just drove for 35 minutes in silence. My daily morning routine usually involves listening to my favorite morning radio show, but I guess I just got lost in my thoughts trying to mentally prepare myself for the afternoon phone call.

When my supervisor got into the office, I immediately went to her and simply said, “Today is either going to be a very good day or the worst day of my life.” I didn’t need to say anything more. My supervisor knew exactly what I was referring to and said to me, “If you need to leave later, just leave and don’t feel like you need to let me know. Take care of you.” I’m forever thankful to have her as a supervisor and couldn’t have asked for more.

The 12-1pm lunch hour passed and all I could think about was the anticipated phone call. While a part of me was prepared to hear my 24th negative, another part of me was still hopeful and perhaps my at-home tests were false. Finally at 1:14pm, my office phone rang. The nurse knew it was me when I said hello and I knew it was her as soon as she said “Hi Jane.” Her next words were “I’m sorry, Jane, but today’s results were negative.” I turn my office chair away from my coworkers’ line of sight and bury my head against my rested arm on the desk and shook my head like as if the nurse could see my reaction. I couldn’t get a word out. The nurse continues, “I’m so sorry, Jane, but the doctor would like to see you when you’re ready to discuss next steps and what would be done differently for IVF #2.” I finally caught my breath and said “okay” and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

I grabbed a tissue off my desk and tried to control my mascara and eye liner to get myself together. After maybe 2 or 3 minutes, I finally got my emotions in control and decided I wasn’t in the mental state of mind to continue working the rest of the day. I walk into my supervisor’s office and as soon as she makes eye contact with me I said nothing, but shook my head no. My supervisor immediately jumps from her office chair, shuts her door closed and hugs me for a couple of minutes. The tears just poured down my face. She proceeds to let me vent and tells me to take the time I need to grieve.

I head home and just wait for JM to get home. To be honest, I can’t remember what I did until he got home, but I do remember the moment JM got home. He took one look at me and just knew. He asks me, “Was today the pregnancy test?” and I proceed to tell him how I knew it was going to be negative 3 days ago and how today was the blood test.

We just held each other the rest of the night, ordered take out and discussed what we wanted to do next. We were devastated. I remember JM asked me if I wanted to go through this again. I knew immediately I didn’t want to go through it the very next month. I wanted to give my body a break from all the medical hormones, injections, and replenish our savings account a bit. JM was happy to do whatever I wanted to do. We agreed we would meet with the doctor for a follow up consultation as soon as possible so we could mentally and financially prepare ourselves for what we’d be up against for attempt #2 of IVF.

Once again, I was sent a busted stork.

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