Diary - July 2nd to 8th 2010

Diary – 2nd to 8th July

This week has been about one thing…
1. Figuring out how to breathe through a broken heart.

My IVF treatment didn’t work and I am devastated. I spent the entire month trying, pretending, hoping, to be pragmatic.

“If it doesn’t work, we’ll just have another go.”
“The first try is always more of a fact finding mission to find out what is going wrong.”
“We can always adopt, there are so many children out there needing love.”
“This IVF business wasn’t so hard, I can go through it again.”

What a load of, dare I say it, yes I dare, f'ing crap!

No one prepares you for the complete and utter searing pain of finding out that you have failed again. Failed yourself, you husband, your family, your friends, nature! And failed the embryos that were counting on you to give them life. For the 42nd month in a row since we started trying to conceive I got my period and it has broken me. That is how I feel, broken. Like my entire happiness was resting on one thing and now that it is no longer a possibility I have ceased to function on a normal level.

The week has been a pity party from start to finish with me flipping between forcing myself to blink and remember to inhale and exhale or me shutting down completely on the inside and behaving like all is right with the world and I have never had a care in it.

It is frightening. There is still a slightly rational part of me that is preparing for a complete melt down. Its coming, it will be epic, it will destroy me completely.

Being around people I seem somehow able to rationalise what I am going through but not for me, for them. I have a mask I wear to convince them that I am not in fact dying on the inside but prevailing through it all. It’s bullshit; when I am alone I crumple. I shrivel. I cry like I will never ever recover.

And I curse myself for being so pathetic. It was my first attempt! People try so hard over and over again, yet here I am feeling like it’s the end. It DOES feels like the end though, and no matter how much I try and put myself together I only get so far before I shatter. Reading and Rohan have been my only real distraction, and I love them for it.

My best friend is still no where in sight; I feel her lack of support like an additional hole growing grotesquely within in my chest. I fear I will never forgive her for it.

Next week… I will be arranging my consultation for acupuncture and trying to rebuild before the rain comes.