This post has taken me a little over a week to write. There are no words to explain the feeling that comes from learning that your IVF journey has failed. All the hope I carried through the whole process instantly dissipated with a single phone call last Thursday: “I’m sorry but your pregnancy test was negative.”
When the call came, I was at work and it was the beginning of the end of the day…3:12pm to be exact. The nurse on the other end of the phone was empathetic and caring, but there was nothing she could do to change the result…I can only imagine that part of the job as a fertility nurse would be gut wrenching and draining. The positive calls would make your day, but the negative result calls would steal your energy.
In hindsight, I am glad I was at work. I had to digest the news quickly and swallow my first instinct to turn into a puddle of mush at my desk. “Wait till you get home to do that” I told myself. Of course, I had a racing mind, a tear in my eye and a quivering lip as I wrapped up my day. As luck would have it, I also had a meeting planned with my boss…which thankfully got pushed back to another day…but I know I would have gotten through that too. By 4pm, my desk was clean, I was organized to take a long weekend and I was heading home to where my husband was anxiously waiting to give me a hug.
As I left the office, each step toward the elevator and the car got a little harder. With each step, I was so close to escaping the prying eyes of co-workers and have my first moment to myself. In the parking garage the first tears trickled down my face, and then as I drove away the ugly cry started. My heart hurt. It wasn’t fair.
During the IVF cycle, I was fairly open with immediate family and friends what we were going through. I didn’t want to make excuses why I didn’t want to go to a birthday party, a friend’s baby shower, or a dinner out….so the truth was my guide. Everyone was understanding and supportive and I appreciated everyone being there for me…but making this choice to be honest meant I had to be honest when it failed too.
At home my husband gave me all the support and space that I needed. I got most of my ugly cry out of the way driving, so the rest of my night was more about absorbing the shock that we had tried and failed. Now what? I was functioning…but I dreaded the idea of friends and family checking to see what my results were over the coming days, so I quickly texted everyone I could think of the same message and asked for space. For as best they could understand, I know their hearts broke for me and they respected my space.
I surprisingly slept…the next morning I was calm and functioning…but boy was I glad I didn’t have to fake a normal day at work either. I found a yoga class…exactly the kind I needed….and set the mantra “Peace & Acceptance” as I breathed through the next 90 minutes. I think God was there with me and I know that class helped ease my pain that day.
I don’t know what is next. It will take some time to get there…but I am hoping for more “Peace & Acceptance” as we move forward in our journey.