So it’s Monday….and we’re coming off the heels of my hubby’s 33rd birthday weekend. And I’m having a horrible day!
It all started September 11th, when I got my last period. We were on vacation, and I was so happy to get my period…only my second since miscarrying due to an ectopic pregnancy. So I was happily looking forward to getting back on the “Trying to conceive” wagon. I should also mention that hubs and I agreed it would be our last round of Clomid before moving back to the US. That way if it worked we would have 3 months of great prenatal care here in France, and then find an insurance program in the US once we arrived. So CD3 I started taking the 100mg of Clomid. Keep in mind, I was on vacation, so I was eating like a pig and drinking vats of wine.
Fast forward to Friday…D’s birthday, October 4th. I had been tracking my basal body temp, so I knew I was 10 dpo, and that my temps were high compared to my normal cycles. I decided to take a pregnancy test that morning in hopes that it would show the faintest positive line and I could break the news to hubs on his very own day of birth. It was a good plan in theory, but God had other plans. I waited the obligatory 10 minutes, and nothing….not even a hint of a hint of a line. OK, no probs, I told myself….I’ll test tomorrow. It’s way too early anyways.
I proceeded to test Sat & Sunday, all with the same results. And sadly this morning my temp dropped pretty significantly…and I had another negative pregnancy test. I laid back into bed, my heart breaking into a million pieces. All my dreams of a baby for this month (or any time soon for that matter) are gone. And I’m not handling it very well. The thought of waiting a few more months for us to get jobs in the US to even start trying again just kills me. Haven’t I waited enough? What have I done that is so wrong to not deserve our little baby just yet? And all I can think about is the time when I was 19 and I told my grandpa I didn’t want kids, because let’s face it…at 19 no one wants kids. He proceeded to tell me that I would die alone with no one to love me. Seriously, that really happened and he didn’t say it as a joke, he was 100% for real.
I got up and put on my running clothes and just RAN, and ran and ran and I realized about 20 minutes into my run…I was sobbing. I couldn’t breathe or even see because tears were streaming down my face. And people were staring. I stopped, pulled myself together and pressed on. There’s a bench overlooking a cliff just off the Cap d’Ail centier and I sat there for a while. Who knows how long, maybe 10 minutes…maybe an hour. I thought about all the amazing things and experiences that I’ve had in my 30 years and how I still have this void in my life without a baby. I thought about the people in the world who do have kids, would might want to trade them for the experiences that I’ve had traveling the world and living in the South of France. And I just cried, and thought how I can possibly get on with my life for the next few months knowing that I’m putting my dreams on hold. My dreams of having a family, that I wanted to start over 3 years ago. But life kept putting those plans on hold, and I was able to accept the fact that the time wasn’t right then. But I can’t accept it any longer.
I left the bench and ran/walked a bit longer. At one point I stopped and watched some waves crashing over some rocks…and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t think about throwing myself over the railing directly onto those rocks. But then I thought I would just be proving my asshole grandfather right. I would die alone with no one to love me. I finally made my way back home, where D had bought me some lilies to help cheer me up. But even as I type this I don’t know how I’m going to deal with it.
Wait a few months, maybe even as long as 6 months. Finally get a doctor in Miami, meet with him, go back on Clomid and wait to see if it works. I’m not a very patient person, and I’m sure that’s the lesson that God is trying to teach me, but it’s a painful lesson. One that I hope I can endure.