In the beginning, I was a google-addict. I followed blogs on conception and watched birthing videos. I must have visited the youtube video of the giggling twins a couple hundred times at least. Just about any early pregnancy symptom google can produce, I have experienced: late period, sore breasts, insatiable hunger, nausea, diarrhea, consipation, burping...you name it.
Every once in a while someone asks why Tony and I don't have kids yet.
"We're trying," I tell them, "and believe me. Trying is fun." They laugh. I laugh. And we try again. Twenty-one months, 4 IUI's, 1 ultrasound, and a couple handfuls of heart shards later, we're still trying.
Here's the thing. Most of the time I am indifferent. After such a rocky journey of getting our hopes up, being let down, getting our hopes up, being let down, I've disconnected myself. I don't google would-be symptoms anymore. I don't blog on this site. I don't seek out readers. I don't share my story. The trade-off is I get to move on month after month with little more than a, "well, that sucks," response to af's timely arrival.
But...
Occasionally I can't help but feel my m&m shell crack a little bit letting melty mommy feelings out. My heartbeat drums a steady rhythm into my mind, "what-if, what-if, what-if." I can't fight it. I start to wonder what if. Starting my period after that comforting mantra has saturated me is a pain as real and as physical as my chest being hollowed out by a parasite. You'd think I would have learned by now.
When we tried an IUI the first time, when we added an ultrasound and a trigger to our treatment, when we really took full advantage of bding every opportunity we could during my fertile days...bfn, bfn, bfn.
This month I've taken Clomid, 50mg days 3-7. How do I keep from hoping? My heart hurts already in anticipation of a let down. Either the Clomid is really messing with my emotions or I am just subconsiously setting myself up for another emotional battering.
Thank God my husband is wonderful. I couldn't do this alone.
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