Thursday, July 23, 2009


Yesterday and the day before, all I wanted to do was scream all the swear words I knew at the greatest volume I could muster. I've been loud since birth, so it would have been an impressive display.

But I didn't scream any cuss words. I didn't even say one. And today, with the final BIG FAT NEGATIVE showing its ugly face on my second-to-last early response pregnancy test, I'm too tired.

I'm much too exhausted to even think about how I went through absolute hell this month. How I woke up in so much pain I could barely hear myself screaming. How I landed in the ER and they made me walk to the room even though every tiny step felt like being stabbed. How this was our very last chance to have a baby of our own without spending $10,000 on a procedure that has only a probability of working. How we spent all the money we don't have on this first and last real chance I might get pregnant. How we're now at the point of either spending our lives away on amazingly uncomfortable procedures or just giving up on the idea of a little one that in the strangest ways takes after us.

Half of me knows that going through IVF is complete insanity. The other half is completely insane. And my ovaries, which take like 10% of my body volume now, are just screaming for me to leave them alone (and give them strong pain meds).

Everyone keeps telling me how strong and brave I am, but it makes no sense to call someone strong and brave just because life seems to be thrusting pure crap at them left and right. It would be brave and strong if I'd chosen to be hopelessly infertile and desperate to be pregnant. If I'd somehow taken that burden off of someone else so they could live pain free and I could have their problems, that could be considered brave. It might be strong of me not to spend 100% of my waking hours feeling sorry for myself. As it is, I'm fluctuating between 20% and 80%, if you count the time I spend picking plastic apparatus filled with my own urine out of the garbage to make sure they're definitely negative. Does that sound strong or brave to you?

I'm just going to say it: This sucks.

And if you come back with some lame silver lining like, "At least you weren't raped and murdered and left in pieces in a sewer," I will mutilate you with the sharp edges of crushed home pregnancy tests.


Lisa said...

Whatever, just because you didn't pick this doesn't make you not brave. Sometimes we're brave by choice; most of the time we're brave because we have to be. Because the bravest thing of all is picking yourself up after something so difficult, and still living your life.

So you ARE brave. And we have ALL looked in the trash to double check pregnancy tests. That's just normal :)

Brooke said...

I am so sorry. That is all I will say because I understand that in that situation nothing makes it all right.

Kimberly P said...

All I will say is I can feel your pain. Been there and done that over and over for the past 12 1/2 years. My heart knows the same frustration!

Eileen said...

I love you Amy! I wish I could say anything to make the pain go away but i don't think there is. Just remember Heavenly Father loves you too and he knows what he's doing....even if we don't. I'm so sorry you have to go through all of this! Please let me know if I can do anything for you at all.

NAlton said...

Well, I still think you're brave. I don't care if you don't. Because? I've seen you go through this with (mostly) a smile on your face. Yes, I've heard the hard things about it. But you've never said "woe is me!" and given up. And when the chemicals do work out for you, you won't whine about how uncomfortable pregnancy is. You'll be "fat and happy." Unlike my sis-in-law that only knows complaining. So YOU are brave.