After yesterday's long and stressful day I was thankful to finally be able to get some sleep. I went to bed around midnight and somehow found the anger easier to fall asleep with than the sadness. I woke at 4am to pee and lay in bed, debating whether or not I would pee on a stick this early in the morning. Realizing either answer would keep me up, I promised myself I wouldn't do it. I made it to the bathroom, pulled down my yoga pants (I slept in my outfit from the previous day - Homeless hipster, remember?). I instantly felt my damp underwear and looked down to see it soaked in bright red blood.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't cry. I just sat there staring at the mess. I think my body had been drained of all emotion, thanks to the roller coaster that was Tuesday. I cleaned myself up, riffled around for a maxi pad which was surprisingly difficult to find. Who wears those anymore? Finally got myself together and stood up. As I exited the bathroom I said out loud, to no one, "The baby has left the building". Whether this was my period or a miscarriage, I didn't know. I doubt my body did either, thanks to all the drugs I've been pumping it with this past month. Normally, with my regular cycle, it begins with some light spotting in a darkish brown color. This was sudden and I knew the bright red was a bad sign. That means it's fresh. That means it's over. This journey is over. I went back to bed. Rolled myself in to the fetal position and fell back to sleep. I had strange dreams that all my friends came over to help me clean my house and we discovered a colony of mice who walked on their hind legs and wore backpacks living behind my stove. Do with that what you will. I woke again at 7am, went in to the living room and told my husband the news. Still, we didn't cry. I went back in to the bathroom, peed in a cup and dipped the stick. Maybe for the routine. Maybe because I'm an eternal optimist. I'm honestly not sure why I did it. The bleeding had stopped and now it was just light black spotting. I didn't even look at the test result, I just threw the stick on top of the pile with the rest. I went outside and played with my son. We made breakfast. I was waiting to call the office when they opened at 8:30am to raise some hell, but my phone rang at 8:15 and a nurse from my clinic was on the other end. She apologized for the mix up and not calling yesterday. I stayed silent. I needed to hear her say it. "I'm sorry to say the test was negative" she said in a quiet voice. The tears began to run down my face. My voice went up and octave as I squeaked "yeah, I know. I started bleeding so I figur-"
I couldn't finish my words. There was silence for a bit. We set up a follow up appointment with the doctor so he could go over our options. I'm not sure what she said after that. I stopped listening. I hung up without saying goodbye because I couldn't get the words out. Negative. We finally know. There are no words to describe the sadness, the pain, the feeling of failure, the anger, the relief, the everything of finally knowing. So I'm not gonna try. What I am going to express is my eternal gratitude for my family. My son is beautiful. He is our success story. This journey only further proves just how blessed we are to have him. Even in the darkest moments of life, he can make us smile.
We are the lucky ones. We have a healthy beautiful child. I know plenty of women who have gone through this IVF process multiple times. I'm talking 10+ rounds of IVF and they still haven't got their BFP. I know families who have lost their foster kids after years of trying to adopt them. I know families who have suffered loss I cannot even fathom. I'm so grateful for all the support from friends and strangers alike who have followed this journey and rooted us on throughout this whole process. So many people I've never met have reached out and shared their incredible, and often times heart-wrenching, stories with me. These stories don't always have the happy ending we hoped for. But they are our stories, and they are worth sharing. I am thankful for you all. I am thankful for my family who showers me with love, even on days like today, when I cannot love myself. And today, I'm extra thankful for wine. Here is to a new chapter. I'll drink to that.