The View From Down Here

A quick peek inside my head.

Well, here I am. A little less than two weeks post surgery. I’m feeling much better physically.

But mentally, yikes. If you could see my thoughts right now, you’d be like, whoa. They’d be all black clouds and evil robots and scary vintage dolls with those flip-lid eyes and I don’t even know what else.

Things were ok for a while. Initially after the surgery I felt relief. It’s over, hooray! I have endometriosis, hooray! It may seem strange to feel relieved upon finding out you have an incurable disease, but I was just glad that we finally had some answers. So many things were explained: the spotting before my period (endometriosis on my cervix), frequent urination (endometriosis on my bladder), the pain in my lower right side that doctors had been dismissing for years (endometriosis on my ovary) and my crap-quality eggs (endometriosis everywhere). And even better, all of it was removed! (P.S. the surgeon did remove the endo on my ovary – in my anesthesia-addled state I misheard the him.) For the moment at least, I am endometriosis free!

I was also feeling happy with myself. Happy that I kept searching and digging until I finally got some answers. That I didn’t give up. That I trusted my gut and listened to Dr. Braverman when he told me to get surgery after a ten minute phone consult. I was like, well, this is totally crazy, but I think he’s right so I’m going for it.

And he was right. We both were.

So yeah, I was feeling pretty good for a few days, despite the pain.

But then, I don’t even know what happened.

Maybe it was the fact that recovery was worse than I’d expected.

Maybe it’s because, as relieved as I was, it started sinking in that I have an incurable disease. Yes, the endometriosis is gone, but it usually comes back at some point.

Maybe it’s because, despite my very best efforts, I can’t seem to get my stupid teeth situation under control. Like, I can’t remember a time when my teeth didn’t hurt. One gets fixed and another one gets jacked up. It’s never ending.

Maybe it’s because we’ve been going at this babymaking crap for over two years.

Maybe it’s because I’m staring down the barrel of our last IVF. One final chance and that’s it.

Maybe it’s because after all of our talk of adoption, I don’t know if that’s truly going to end up being a valid option for us. We don’t have the cash up front right now to make it happen, so we’d have to either borrow money, clear out our dire-emergency-only funds, save for years or a combination of the three. Not to mention the fact that this fertility journey has already taken a toll on my relationship with Tim. We’re not headed to Divorce City or anything like that, but I think we both agree that we’ve seen happier days. What would another two or so years going through the adoption process do to us? Yes, I want another child more than almost anything, but not at the cost of my marriage. I’m not saying adoption is off the table, but it’s certainly going to require further discussion and exploration.

So when all is said and done, we may end up without another child. Which means we would have spent years on this journey with nothing to show for it — nothing good anyway. Two dead babies. A sharps container full of needles. A strained marriage.  Not to mention that I’m now the kind of person who rolls my eyes when I see a pregnancy announcement — so essentially I’ve become someone who begrudges others their happiness. And I’m sure I’m a worse parent to Lettie than I would have been if I didn’t go through any of this stuff. How many times have I been obsessing about my fertility, or lack thereof, instead of being in the present moment with the amazing child that I already have? How many times? Just thinking about it makes me want to cry my eyes out. She deserves better than that. Tim deserves better than a wife who’s anxious, upset and preoccupied all the time.

And there it is, the root of why I’ve been feeling so low lately: maybe I’ve fought valiantly for the last two years, but I’m not sure I like the person I’ve become.

61 thoughts on “The View From Down Here

  1. I’m sure you’ve heard this but post-surgery is the best time to have a crack. Even if it is your last…it is still a chance. And a good one. Nay, a great one. I am so glad you have finally been taken seriously & treated and I’m really sorry it’s taken so long. You are in such good health right now, even though you are struggling mentally. You will get better, maybe not today. But hey, you’re closer than you were yesterday. Xxxxxx

  2. I’m glad to hear your recovery is going well. Go easy on yourself though. Infertility and pregnancy loss takes a toll on all of us. Recognizing what you don’t like is the first step to changing it. Will be thinking of you as you head into this IVF cycle.

    1. Thanks, girl. You are right — realization is the first step to change. I’m glad more than ever that I signed up with Zahra! Hopefully she can help me with some of the feelings surrounding infertility and loss. Our first session is next Tuesday.

  3. Oh hon I’ve been thinking of you so often lately. I have given some thought to that whole endo will come back thing too and i guess I’m just sticking it in the I’ll deal with that later box. We have rampant breast cancer in my family so I’m kinda thinking I’ll end up needing to have some drastic hysterectomy type surgery at some point and just leaving it at that. A problem for another day… I am so sad that you feel so much sadness right now. I want to say maybe try this or that or this or that but sometimes suggestions are annoying so instead I’ll say maybe just feel my hug coming out to you.

    I know what you mean about the pregnancy announcements. We had some friends visit on the weekend and they are going to start trying for number 2 next month – number 1 was born about about 6 weeks after my monkey. Anyway she drinks a fair bit on weekends and smokes a lot when she does and all these things aren’t great for fertility. And I looked at her and thought “bet she fucking gets knocked up right away”. Then of course I felt freaking awful. Ugh. So I’m hearing you on that whole thing.

    Send lots of love and hugs your way gorgeous girl x

    1. You are exactly right, it’s a problem for another day. BTW, I talked to Braverman on Tuesday and he said we have about a year window before it comes back.

      And oooh, I’m gonna be SO PISSED for you if your friend gets knocked up right away!

      1. Ah thanks for that info. 1 year. Seems like long enough but then when you factor all the waiting hardly anytime at all! Let’s get knocked up in the next year. I wish it was as simple as saying it to be true xx

  4. Oh my friend I can just feel this pain. We have only been trying again for about a year so I can totally see this coming if it is another year. Of course you feel this way. You have been through so much and to feel like you have ‘one more shot’ is just so much pressure. Anyway you can find a way to take that pressure off? Any sort of plan B if this ivf cycle doesn’t work. I just say that because I can imagine the pressure of a final time to try to fulfill your dreams seems so insurmountable. Even if it is a plan of something the three of you can do together and is not infertility related.
    I have tried my best so far to keep the fertility treatments separate from my family life. Turns out that is pretty darn hard. What has helped me is to try to take all the emotion out of every cycle, and have no idea of timeline in my head. I also live completely normal ( coffee, wine etc) anytime I am not on meds for a cycle. Instead of living a strict fertility life, I do it only the weeks of actually cycling. Anyway- probably none of that is any help to you but thought I would share.
    What I will tell you is seeing Lettie’s sparkly face shining in all her pictures, reading your strong, humble, funny and beautiful words I am fully confident both your husband and daughter could not ask for a better wife/mother. You are doing the absolute best you can. Just find solace in the fact that this dark time WILL pass. I have full faith it will end with another child but I know you are strong enough to enjoy and appreciate your gifts no matter what. Thinking of you. Wish we could go out and drink lots of wine and chat. Xo

    1. Thank you for these kind words. You are awesome and I appreciate your support so much. I think about you often in regards to just living life while not cycling. I’m always feeling guilty if I have even one glass of wine, and then I think, “Whatever, MamaJo drinks. She’s got the right idea!” When I talked to Dr. Braverman on Friday he said social drinking is totally fine. I trust him as I feel like he really knows his shit. He told me no gluten, minimal dairy and to eat organic — but moderate caffein and alcohol he was fine with. CHEERS! So I’m going to try and put the guild aside and have a damn glass of wine when I feel like it!

      I like the idea of planning something after this cycle that’s not fertility related. I’ll have to give that some thought. Xo.

      1. I am so grateful that Dr. Braverman ok’d my two favorite vices! Hope you had a fun birthday! Xoxo

  5. Oh Tanya, I’m sending you some monster hugs right now. You haven’t left my thoughts. Have you considered going to talk to someone? Both alone and with Tim might be a good idea, if it’s feasible. I totally understand the relationship rocks and the neglect of living in the moment with DD. DW and I are still regularly seeing someone but we aren’t making any progress, we just aren’t regressing anymore. It’ll take time to heal from all the hurt you’ve been through in the past couple years, but your couple seems strong enough to hang on through these rougher times. I’m sending you all the good juju I’ve got for your next IVF to be the one. Be well. Xx

    1. Thanks, girl! I do see a counselor, and Tim and I started seeing one together last week. It was a pretty good session, I guess. We’ll see how it goes from here. She was like, “So do you two have any fun together?” And we were both like, “NO!” Haha. Thanks for the juju. You have a great track record for juju! I credit your juju (how many times can I say that word?) for me getting pregnant with my first IVF. 🙂

  6. All of these feelings.
    All of them.
    We haven’t started our IVF journey yet, but we’re gearing up (read: saving, journaling, plotting temps, peeing on things, not eating gluten) for it. Up until that part specifically, ALL OF THE FEELINGS.
    You are going to have such a great story. You’ve already got a pretty amazing one and it isn’t even over. Your little one sees her mommy as a fighter and your husband as your wingman, your protector. Her parents are super heroes. While this time is not ideal, she won’t soon forget it. It stayed with me when my mama fought this and my daddy was both he caretaker and ours. It will stay with your Lettie.
    Counseling was one of the best things me and my guy did, both together and alone. It’s not an admission of defeat, it’s a refusal to be defeated.
    My heart aches for you and rejoices with you at the same time. You didn’t give up, you didn’t quit, you didn’t dismiss, and you advocated for yourself and your family. That’s badass.
    But I know you don’t yet have you’re happy ending, because you don’t know where it is yet. It’s coming.
    Feelings. All of them.

    1. I am so sorry you can fully relate, but it is a comfort knowing I’m now alone. Thank you so much for your kind words. I love your perspective on Lettie remembering this time in a positive light. I never, ever would have thought of it that way. Tim and I went to our first counseling session a few days after I wrote this post! It went pretty well, I think. We’ll see how it goes from here!

      I will be sending so many good thoughts to you as you gear up for IVF! Let me know if you have any questions along the way!

  7. I am glad to hear that your recovery is coming along, but my heart aches for what you are going through. This journey is so much more than tough, seriously, at times it is excruciating and I think we would be kidding ourselves if we tried to act like it didn’t affect us. I tried that, blew up in my face 🙂 Sometimes I don’t even know how Hubby and I are still as together as we are. I guess sometimes you are good like you were just after the surgery and sometimes you feel like your morning coffee is somehow the magical glue holding you together each day.
    Huge hugs to you!

    1. It’s true! It’s such a day by day thing. I never know if it’s going to be a good day on this journey or a bad one — the bad ones sneak up on you. Hugs right back at you and thank you so much for the support!

  8. Damn it. I just lost my long comment. I thought about emailing you the more heartfelt stuff instead rather than trying to redraft it all here. But maybe it bears printing here? Everything that follows I believe true for you as I know it has become clear as my own truth with time. First, you are a great mom. What you’ve gone through makes you appreciate Lettie even more than you otherwise might have done and your efforts are a testament to your love for her and the light age bright into your and Tim’s lives – I know this as surely as I know that without the MT having opened my heart in ways I had never imagined I would never have found the tenacity to persevere to where we are now – finally. Second, a year ago I was in a very dark place and getting our initial immune testing and analysis done by Dr. Braverman. First the diagnoses brought relief and validation as your endo experience did recently. Then a dark cloud settled and reality struck: I was broken. Defective, genetically and immunologically. I may never be fixed. We could only afford – financially and emotionally for our marriage had suffered greatly over the preceding two years too – one more cycle and Dr. B warned me that with my various issues one cycle may not be enough. Yet. Here I am. A baby who will be one month old in less than 10 hours lying beside me. It worked. That one last cycle. As tumultuous as it was from start to finish, it worked. Third, while I’m no Nostradamus my gut is telling me that this last cycle is going to work for you, too. I am praying and hoping my gut is right on this. And I’m sending much love and countless waves of empathy and gentle, freaky Victorian doll-free thoughts and energy your way. Finally, don’t worry if you don’t believe it. I didn’t either. I worried and doubted relentlessly and the LP regretted doing it. But now? We are so glad we persevered. I want you to be writing this comment in words of your and Tim’s own in a year or so. This is my wish for you.

    1. Ah, I love this wish. And I so hope you are right — that in one year I will be writing this same comment to someone else who is struggling. That would be amazing. Thank you. Thank you for all of this. It’s funny, I had only just started following your blog when you first went to Dr. B, but I definitely was like, “Oh, this is totally going to work.” And it did. So I’m just praying, fingers-crossing, rain-dancing that your gut is right, and that we somehow have psychic gut feelings about each other’s situations. 🙂 Please, Universe, make this be so? Ok, thanks. I’m trying to get in a good head space, telling myself that, no matter what happens, I am giving myself the best possible chance for this to work. And that’s a pretty damn good step in the right direction.

      Side note, but can you send me the link to your post about your Dr. B results? I tried to find it today, but couldn’t.

      1. I think your post would be a good place to start to start, as I’m guessing you explain it better than the report does. And then maybe once I digest that I’ll check out the report if I have any Qs. Thanks for offering to send it! I don’t even understand my own report, oy. It is like total Greek. I’m trying to figure out how to explain this stuff in a blog post and am just like, DERP!

      2. And feel free to add the link to your post here if it’s easier than actually emailing it. I know you have a ton going on and I’m a bit in awe that you are managing to read people’s posts and comment through the newborn days! You are a rock star, obviously.

  9. This really hit home for me. For two years we’ve been trying to have a second child, and I feel that we somehow robbed ourselves and my daughter of these two years. She is perceptive, and I am sure our grief and disappointment affect her a lot, and I blame myself for not being able to shield her completely (and of course for not being able to give her a sibling). This just sucks, no way around it. Still, having an answer is great, and here’s hoping that without the endo, you’ll get lucky!

    1. Ack, I’m sorry you can relate. I can only hope that this is just blip in our child’s memory. Someone said above that they watched their mom go through infertility and it made her see her mom as a rock star fighter. I really like that perspective. I’m sure you’re little one will grow up thinking you’re a fighter, too!

  10. Arrrrgh at that doll, I may have nightmares. This post is so raw and honest and though in many ways our situations are different I can relate to a lot of what you are saying. First I doubt for one minute you have been anything other than a wonderful Mother to Lottie, that shines through. This whole experience, both fertility stuff and miscarriage sadly do change us a little bit but I am hopeful regardless of what the outcome of what we are going through we will reach some light and be stronger than what we were before we started off. To focus on the positives, you now have so many answers because you have been diagnosed and having the surgery has put you in tip top shape to progress with the IVF. All the things you have been through lately, all of your ‘maybes’ have impacted on how you are feeling now as it is a lot of weight for anyone to carry. I was trying to explain the whole feeling of anxiety and depression to someone and for me it is like having a large cupboard with to many things to put in it, you are pushing everything in while trying to close the door before it all falls out. After a while the door bursts open under the strain, sometimes you manage to grab the door and shut it and other times everything starts to fall out. That probably sounds a bit mad, but what I am trying to say it is perfectly normal for things to impact under the strain of this all. You need to find a way to cope, we all find our own ways and as has already been suggested counselling is always an option. I keep busy when I feel the anxiety rising to the surface, this works for me but not sure I am not just throwing a blanket over the issues! Blogging is certainly good therapy too. Anyway thinking of you and sending big hugs across the waters. xo

    1. Yes! i think your explanation of anxiety totally makes sense — not mad at all! I agree with you that we have to become stronger on the other side of this. We have to, right? Some days that’s the only thing that keeps me going — because I sure as hell don’t feel strong right now! Thank you for your never-ending support! Sorry if you had doll nightmares haha.

  11. Oh, I want to give you a giant hug right now. And also to say that I think you’re behaving normally, if it makes you feel any better. I remember the roller coaster of emotions after the surgery in which we found out that I had intrauterine adhesions, and then the HSG where we found out that my tubes were scarred. Yay, you know what your problem is! Having answers is great! Then… crap! You have to deal with the problem, and endometriosis is no joke to deal with — as you say, this is something you’ll have to deal with for the rest of your life. That’s huge and scary and legitimately depressing. I’m so, so sorry about your diagnosis.

    I’m also sorry about all the psychological baggage that comes with it, and the feeling that after two years everything is weighing on you. That two-year mark sucks, no two ways about it. It sucks to feel bitter instead of happy when friends announce pregnancies. It sucks to have to stare down the possibility that it won’t work out. It sucks, and I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this.

    Thanks for keeping us all in the loop, and I wish there were more I could do to make things better for you. I hope you’re able to get outside and have some family fun, but if you need to wallow for a while, know that that’s OK too. Just know that you’ve got lots of love and good wishes from the electronic ether.

    1. Thank you. Your constant stream of support is already doing so much! Now that I am fully recovered, I have been getting out more and enjoying the sun and fun summer activities with Lettie. Is has been helping exponentially. I’m still not like, “WOOOO, EVERYTHING IS GREAT,” but I am feeling worlds better than when I wrote this post.

  12. You poor thing – this has just been so awful for you and to have it go on and on like this – it’s just intolerable. I have been where you are now and I know how godawful you are feeling – honestly. I don’t think there is anything I can say that will make you feel better, but know that I do understand and if I could give you a big hug and listen over a cup of tea, that’s exactly what I’d do. At one point (about two years into trying), I was just so angry and depressed – I didn’t want to speak to family or friends, I cut myself off from pretty much everyone. I left Facebook, and cried at home almost every day. I just sank into a really deep and angry depression. I was a horrible mum and a horrible wife and I hated everything. I stopped taking care of myself and my appearance. I spent hours googling the same stuff and hours searching endlessly for the ‘answer’. I didn’t think I’d ever recover from that point, but very slowly I reached a kind of acceptance. And somehow we kept trying for another year, even though at the time I thought that having to keep walking the same path would kill me. These dark moments… they are awful to live through, but they are not the end. You are not at the end of anything. Be gentle on yourself xxxxx

    1. Thank you for this. Your comment made me cry. I remember your dark times — well, what you shared with us anyway. And I remember thinking, “How is she still going? I just feel awful for her.” But somehow, through all that, you got your happy ending. It’s amazing. I don’t know why, but I have a hard time believing that same thing can happen for me. But maybe like Spirit Baby said above, I don’t actually have to believe it for it to happen. Xoxo.

      1. You don’t have to believe it – I definitely didn’t. I even spent the first few weeks of pregnancy in denial, and crying about how I knew it was all going to go wrong yet again, refusing to talk about it to the husband. Eugh – hard times, all of it. One foot in front of the other, and not much else, is the best you can do at some points in life, and that is still okay. I believe in it for you xxx

  13. I am right here with you. Thanks for exploring all the ways this journey is tough…it feels nice to read it and know I am not alone! I highly suspect I have endometriosis too…maybe after this adoption I will find a doctor that will explore that with me further. Big hugs to you. I can’t wait to be at the other side of this journey with you!!!!

    1. Thank you so much for your support. And I agree, I absolutely cannot wait for us to be on the other side of this together! If/when you ever decide to explore the endo thing, let me know if you have any questions. Not that I’m an expert, but I’d be happy to talk about it! I really feel like endo is a lot more prevalent than doctors give it credit for. Like, if I had no classic symptoms, how many other people are out there with the same thing?

  14. We are so hard on ourselves. I’ve been in denial on embracing the negative feelings I’ve had these past two years as well. It didn’t help that someone else in my life seems to have a healthier grasp on the waiting and the miscarriages in her own life than I do. It just makes me want to repress the negative feelings even more, but the reality is that they are there. The guilt is overwhelming. But the honest truth is that we are human. We will make mistakes in our marriage and in our parenting. But we have to let it go. Yes, marriages strain and we give plenty of reasons for our kids to blame us in therapy for everything that goes wrong in their life, but the truth is, you are doing the best you can. You really are. You are going to be able to be there for you daughter in ways you can’t even fathom right now when she grows up because of what you have experienced now. This journey wasn’t a useless one. It’s one that will make you stronger, even if you don’t feel it yet. Your honesty has helped me, as I’m sure it has helped several others in this community. You are always in my thoughts, girl. As always, hang in there.

    1. “You are doing the best that you can.” Thank you, I really needed to hear that. And I am beyond humbled to think that anything I’ve written might have helped you in any way.

      I, too, have friends that I feel like cope with things better than me. But the thing about that is we have no idea what’s actually going on inside their heads. Like what they’re telling us and how they’re feeling could be totally different. And they could also be doing the same thing we tend to do, which is to deny our feelings. It’s so hard to tell with anyone what’s really going on.

      You are right, we are human. And we will figure this out, no matter how ugly or hard or sad it is sometimes!

  15. I’m the last person to offer advice in my state right now, and I know how this ugly disease messes with you. Believe me, I always wonder if endo is the reason for why #2 hasn’t happened yet and whether it’ll be the reason why it never happens. I’m in a weird state right now, facing the final purge of a failed pregnancy, but somewhat optimistic (or delusional, I’m not sure yet) because we’re still in it. And you are too. You have to keep fighting. I honestly don’t know what the next few months have in store for either of us, but I have to say just reading that you found out you have endo says to me that you’re fighting and you’re not giving up. It’s hope, and we have to take that anyway it comes. I also appease my fear of endo by thinking that I can curb it somehow by making better choices in what i choose to eat and staying active. (Today doesn’t count–I indulged b/c, well, I think I deserve it right now), but to me, I’m hopeful because I’m going to be in control of staying away from things that cause inflammation and go from there. I think you’ll find something that will give you hope and control, even if we don’t have control over the situation as a whole. Good luck! I’m definitely pulling for a fellow endo sister looking for baby #2!

    1. Endo sisters unite! You are right, we are both still in it. And it ain’t over ’til it’s over! How are you managing exercise with another child at home? This has been my one downfall — I just can’t manage to find the time to do it. It’s like I wake up, blink, and then it’s none o’clock at night. Sending love to you. I hope you’re ok. I am so sorry again about failed pregnancy. Just heartbreaking.

      1. So the plan for being more active is to just get up earlier on days that I don’t have to work (I work part time so that helps) and just running/walking outside. I’m planning on starting tomorrow but my husband will be away most of next week so that means I can’t pick it up again until Saturday. I’m just gonna take it one day at a time. I do find that keeping busy (I’ve been cleaning up a lot lately) helps. Hope you are able to handle the wait as I’m trying to. Good luck to you!

    1. Thank you so much, Caroline! Life really is so hard, and I know you’ve had a rough go of it these last few years as well, especially with losing your precious Kai. Sending love your way!

  16. I want to wrap you up in a giant hug right now. I want to sit with you and cry with you. The world isn’t fair and all of this stuff is so cruel!
    If I could say one thing, I would say that I hope you always remember that you are an amazing women, mother and wife (okay, maybe that was three things). To live through everything you have, with Tim at your side, trying to figure this all out together, that’s pretty darn amazing.
    And, because there is no way I’m going to stop at one thing, I want to add that the adoption stuff is scary, I will fully admit that. But I will caution you with one thing, once you are in it, it’s actually pretty optimistic and uplifting. Our perspective slowly shifted from loss and despair to optimism and hope. Which has been great for our marriage and our individual mental health generally. Yes, the process is tedious at times, but the process isn’t a reflection on you and Tim, it’s just what it is. That said, I fully respect that it may not be for you. I get that, and I will stand by you whatever you decide.
    I do also want to say that the day we stopped trying, was also probably the first day in years I felt like I could breath again. We decided to stop trying while we were still unsure about adoption. And once that decision was made I felt like I could live again, and Mr. MPB and I have spent a lot of time just being together and enjoying simple things, even before we decided on adoption. Again, I’m not saying that you should stop trying, I really think you should keep going until you know you are done. But, once you are done, it’s okay to say it aloud and embrace your life. It’s refreshing.
    Sending you love my friend. Please email any time, I’m always here for you.

    1. This comment has been so helpful. I went back and read it several times and, as I mentioned in an email, sent it to Tim as well. I love that you can offer a perspective of someone who is most of the way through the adoption process. I mean, really, you are almost there! And I just love that you feel so positive about it, especially since you started out with many of the same fears that I have now. I can’t wait to have my life back — sometimes it feels like my body is a prison. Or infertility turns my body into a prison. Or something. Thank you again, my friend. You are the best!

  17. Hugs Hun. I’ve often had similar thoughts – about being a bad wife, having a strained marriage, etc. and maybe nothing to ever show for it. And I’ve rolled my eyes so much I do t know why they aren’t stuck up there. I get it. You’ve been through so much, and it’s okay to feel grief and mourn the babies you’ve lost. I’ve been trying to have my first baby for a little over two years now and it’s depressing, it’s hard, and nobody can fault you for feeling how you do. It just plain sucks sometimes. You certainly are not alone and I’m rooting for you and sending you lots of wishes for peace and strength. xxx.

    1. Ha, I love your posts where you discuss rolling your eyes at your pregnant friends — I am grateful for your honesty, and I am also like, “Yes! I am not alone!” I hope you have luck in the baby quest soon. I am keeping my fingers crossed tight for you. You have been through so much and deserve some good news ASAP! Thank you as always for your support.

  18. Your post brought me to tears – I’m so sorry that you’re feeling crappy. Sending big supportive hugs my friend. Ahead of my hysteroscopy last year, I did a lot of Google digging on what the after-effects would be (the hospital just said “shoulder pain for a day or two” from the gas) and found woman after woman complaining of some serious Dark Nights of the Soul. I found that the physical intervention sent my hormones into a nosedive and I was in a bad, bad way emotionally for the next three cycles. You have been through a terrible journey to get to here and I’m not saying this to belittle that, just that you shouldn’t underestimate the shitty chemicals that are going to mess with your perspective for a while yet. Please be kind to yourself and I wish you tons of love and luck for the next steps. xx

    1. Thank you for that perspective! I had been wondering if big part of this depression was the surgery and the toll it took on my body. Even just laying in bed for a week without being able to go outside and enjoy the sunshine is depressing in itself. Since fully recovering I have been outside doing more and it has helped a ton. Sorry I made you cry — consider it payback for the last time your post made me cry. 🙂

  19. I just want to send you some love, I feel absolutely everything that you have just written up there and I know how hard this journey has been for you. I just want the happiest ending for you and your lovely little family. x

    1. I’m sorry you can relate, but it is comforting to know I am not alone in these feelings. I so want a happy ending for you, too! I will keep the faith for you!

      1. It is such a sad reality of infertility and it is so frustrating to be working tirelessly towards a goal that seems almost out of reach when you just get bad news or negatives thrown at you left, right and centre. I want the happy ending for you too. I hope one day we can both come on here and say ‘remember when we were wishing for each other’s happy ending- look where we are now!’ With happiness instead of sorrow. I have faith it will happen for us both. Persistence and hope, we have to have it. Thinking of you & your Fam, xx

  20. I get it. I totally get it. Which is why, unless God blesses us with a miracle, we’re done. We are still going to see the RE one more time because I have a few questions but we aren’t pursuing more treatments. I worked too hard for my first miracle to waste more precious time. (That’s not to say I think those who continue trying are wrong…every person, situation and family is different. This happens to be what we feel is best for us…) ok. That was long. I’m so glad you go answers and you’re feeling better. Praying this next round brings you another take home baby. ❤️

    1. I think you are right — everyone is different, and everyone has their cutoff point. I think you are so strong for knowing your limits. I am getting close to mine as well. I sure hope God does bless you with that miracle, though! Thanks as always for the prayers! Xo.

  21. My sweet friend, this post resonated with me on so many levels. I just want to give you the biggest hugs and let you know I feel so much of your anger and heartache. Infertility robs us of so much! But be easy on yourself and know that your sweet Lettie is the beautiful happy little lady that she is because of the amazing mama that you are! And Tim, well, he’s been the strong, loving and courageous husband that you’ve needed because he loves and adores you and knows you deserve nothing less. The days might seem dark but this is only a season, I promise better days are coming. Sending you big hugs!

    1. Thank you, thank you, my friend. I think you are exactly right that this is just a season. It’s so hard to see a season for what it is when we’re in the thick of it. But nothing lasts forever — that’s pretty much the only certainty in life. Ok, well maybe love lasts forever, but that is a whole different tangent! Thanks so much for the hugs. I’m sending some right back to you!

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