A blog about babies: the babies I lost, the babies I never had, the baby who made me a Mama.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Wait No More; or, Right Place, Right Time

Some days, you find yourself in exactly the right place at the right time to hear what you need to hear.

This morning, I was 15 dpiui with no sign of AF. I'd been expecting to start spotting every day since Friday, but despite the delay I wasn't feeling optimistic about this cycle. If my boobs felt dense and hard (and very, very pregnant-like) with last month's beta of 12.5, I knew that my utterly normal-feeling chest didn't suggest anything promising. But still, as each day slowly ticked by, a little spark of hope grew brighter and brighter. My period was late, really officially late, and I hoped as hard as I could that this meant something, even as I told myself and suspected it didn't.

Then, shortly before I left for church, I saw it: the faintest sign of discoloration on my toilet paper. The confirmation that Clomid had indeed given me a longer luteal phase, but that a healthy pregnancy still eluded me.

I jumped in the shower trying unsuccessfully to keep from crying. Over ninety million sperm were injected right into my uterus and they still couldn't match up with an egg. What possible chance could anything short of IVF have of working for us? I felt so tired and worn out and sick of trying and so hopeless. But I got myself dressed and dragged myself to church, anyway.

The priest's homily was about patience and about the tension he identified between living with longing and living with the understanding that we cannot control whether or not we achieve what we long for. The Gospel reading was about waiting for God's time and trusting in his love for us.

I'd been making bargains with God all week. "Just let me get through tonight without spotting," I prayed on Friday as Lawyer Guy and I arrived at his brother and sister-in-law's house, "and I promise that I won't complain when I get my period tomorrow." Even as I said it, I knew I was a liar. And of course, making it through the family even without my period wasn't enough.

But sitting in church, I realized that the priest was right. I do have faith that I will be a mother one day, despite all evidence to the contrary. And I want to live in a place of patience and peace amidst all this terrible, overwhelming longing.

We're going to pick out and decorate our tree tonight. Yesterday LG and I booked a trip to the Bahamas over New Year's Eve. I've got two weeks left of the semester and Christmas to look forward to and operas to attend. I'm going to survive this. One day, this struggle will be over, and I'm going to do my best to find a place of peace in my heart until we get there.


  1. "I'm going to survive this. One day, this struggle will be over, and I'm going to do my best to find a place of peace in my heart until we get there."

    These last two sentences show just how strong and amazing you are.

    (((HUGS))) to you, my bloggy friend.

  2. You are showing incredible strength. And yes, you are going to be a mother someday. In the meantime, I love your new perspective on life. Enjoy you upcoming holidays.

  3. This all sucks so, so badly. I'm so happy you were able to find comfort in church and the sermon today. I found out IUI #1 failed on a Sunday morning and told DH we had to go to church. The entire sermon was on hope. And while I sobbed like a lunatic the entire service, I found great comfort that morning. I knew that as long as I kept hope alive I would one day be a mom.

    You are so, so strong. I'm sending you hugs and warms thoughts on this chilly day. xo

  4. I'm so, so sorry, Sloper. I was hoping so hard.

  5. I'm glad you've got a good outlook on it, love. Keep your chin up and keep fightin' the good fight. Which is, uh, I don't really know. But it sounded good at the moment.

  6. I am really sorry that it didn't work but that you felt some comfort through your church. your last line is so true. this struggle can't last forever and you will be a mother one day.

  7. I'm glad the priest's words touched you in just the right way, in just the right place, at just the right time.

    To this day I will never forget driving by a church near my house (though not my church) & reading on it's sign the message that "Faith makes things possible, not easy." Then, as it does now, gives me the chills. It was a profound moment in my journey to motherhood, even though "bringing home baby" was still another year away.

    Wishing you continued strength.

  8. This journey is so trying in so many ways. For me it is a constant test of patience, faith, and hope. They all seem to waver in and out all the time. I am hoping that your upcoming trip is both relaxing and restoring. You deserve nothing less.
    thinking of you...

  9. I am so sorry to hear this wasn't your cycle...but as usual, I am amazed at your enduring strength and positive attitude. I think booking a NYE get-away with LG is the best thing you could have done! If nothing else, it gives you a warm beach with a wonderful man to look forward to.

    My thoughts and prayers are with you as you continue move forward with this journey.

  10. I'm sorry the discoloration eventually made itself known, but your sense of peace and wholeness is palpable. This can only be a good thing. Your baby's coming, Sloper; I'm only sorry you have to wait a little longer. Sending you hugs.

  11. I'm so sorry for this disappointment, especially after stupid AF took her sweet time to arrive and got your hopes up. b****. I know how much it hurts, but so glad that you've already managed to find some peace, at least for right now. And the Bahamas sounds frickin' awesome. I've been debating a similar plan, I think the hubs and I are due for a break. Here's hoping this is the last visit from AF for a long while.

  12. It is so hard to imagine any end to these struggles when we are in the midst of them, but you are exactly right that you WILL be a mother, and one day, all this suffering will be in the distant past. Also, how cool that you get to spend NewYear's in the Bahamas! That sounds fab!

  13. I'm so sorry it didn't work out. But glad you have faith in becoming a mother (I struggle with that sometimes).
    The Bahamas sound wonderful though.

  14. Frack. I'm so sorry Sloper. ((((hugs))))

    I do the same thing after IUIs....wonder how in the heck we can inject a ton of healthy sperm into my ute at the *exact right* moment and with a follie (or more) in waiting....and still not get pregnant. #@*$&#@( And then somehow, someday, the stars suddenly align. I don't get it, and I wish so very badly that yours had aligned this month....but I believe with my entire heart that you are SO CLOSE to getting your miracle. Hang in my friend. Thinking of you. xoxo

  15. Not to sound like the cornball of the century and not to sound like the "quit trying and it will happen" witch.... BUT after more than a year of getting pregnant consuming me, after way more tears than smiles, after lots of money and long drives to the specialist... I didn't find out I was pregnant until I reached the place of peace. I wasn't even looking for a peace. It just happened. I decided that I had faith that I would be a mother, but that even if I never was... I was/am beyond blessed. Two weeks later, I saw the most beautiful pink lines I've ever seen.

    I was so hoping this was it, but your attitude and insight is beautiful and encouraging, and I have faith for you too. ;)

  16. I am so very sorry. Huge, huge (((hugs))). Thinking of you.

  17. You WILL be a mother someday. That's going to happen.

    A trip to the Bahamas for New Year's sounds amazing!

  18. I'm sorry for the negative sloper, hugs.

    You and LG will survive this and come out the other side with a baby. I hope v. soon too.

    Very excited for your new year's trip!

  19. Shoot. I know that you had high hopes for this cycle and it sounds like you slogged through your holiday meals without too much fuss.

    I wish I had some nugget of hope to pass along to cheer you up, but there's no comfort in some moments like this. I know that this can work for you and I will simply offer you a cup of tea and cry with you for a bit. It's perfectly okay to long for that child, and this hurt shows how much you have to give.

  20. I'm catching up and just reading this post now. I'm sorry, Sloper:( But I really don't think it means that only IVF will work. Really and truly, I don't. But it's frustrating. I know. It is so VERY frustrating.

    Glad you're going somewhere warm. You deserve it.