I hang up the phone trying to hold back the flood of tears wanting to start flowing down my flushed and noticeably red cheeks.
The words I have just heard echo through my head as I repeat them over and over again. I try to comprehend if what I just heard was real.
I’m devastated. It was real.
My heart sinks.
It fucking sinks to the point that I lose my breath for a moment.
Then another moment.
I know that my face is beginning to make that ugly “cry” face but I’m driving, and I don’t want anyone to see my visible devastation when those warm tears start running down my cheeks.
Maybe it’s embarrassment. Maybe it’s my pride. I don’t really know why the hell I even care.
But I do, and that’s a whole other story.
I hold my composure because I know that when I walk into daycare, my happy and bouncy little miracle boy will come running like a freight train for a hug as soon as he lays eyes on me.
I have to be strong. For him. For me. For your husband.
How can this be happening? How can what I just heard be true? Why us? Why now? Why why why.
The tears are there again now knocking at the door so I grab my sunglasses to mask the inevitable.
I cry. I punch the steering wheel. I scream. And cry some more.
“IVF may be your best shot at getting pregnant. I’d recommend having sperm frozen immediately before it’s too late..”
All the hopes we had of this time being different..this time hoping, praying that the numbers would increase.
They decreased by MORE than half. They’re going away. Soon there will be no more.
It’s so hard to accept that becoming a parent can be so difficult for some while others go through hell to become a parent to one or more.
It’s also hard understanding why we can suddenly get pregnant after two years of trying, in the midst of fertility treatment only to get pregnant naturally, to try again two years later and receive more devastating news.
News worse than the last deliverance of news. Some may argue that secondary infertility isn’t as big of a deal.
I fucking beg to differ. It’s harder. Sooooo much harder.
My head is throbbing. Dreading having the conversation that will be sure to crush my husband’s heart. Crush his hopes..his dreams.
He will fight back tears. He will blame himself and push all blame from me. He’ll be devastated and wish he could give me what I so desperately want
It’s not his fault.
I’ll cry because I know he’ll feel terrible. I’ll cry because there’s nothing I can say or do to minimize the blow he’ll take.
There will never be a day that infertility will become bearable.
There will never be a day that passes that the thought of not being able to have a child without help doesn’t crush me.
And don’t think about throwing out there, “but you have one healthy amazing son. Maybe that’s all that was supposed to happen”..BS
That’s not what I want. That’s never what I wanted. What we wanted.
I want more. I need more. We need more.
Is that selfish? How can that be selfish? How can that be too much to ask?
I will never happily accept the idea of having one child. Never.
I’m blessed to have my son, but I know that he deserves a sibling (or two) to grow up with.
To bond with. To fight and argue with. To share in adventures. To share in failure and triumph.
He deserves that.
I cannot give him that now. I may not ever be able to give him that. We may never be able to give him that.
That breaks my fucking heart.
Crushes it into a million little pieces.
There is nothing I can do..nothing we can do but Pray.
Pray that this is not our destiny. Pray that He has bigger plans for us that include another child.
Pray without ceasing.