November 6, 2013 by mamacravings
October marked 1 year of fertility treatments. We tried a new procedure, a bit more invasive, a bit more time-consuming, a bit more expensive.
The procedure failed.
It hit me hard, harder than the other failed rounds. Perhaps it was the emotions of hitting that 1 year mark. Perhaps it was the money that was just thrown into the wind. Perhaps it was just that I was just tired of this whole journey.
I allowed myself to cry. I cried for days. I felt lost.
Since the very first step into my journey through infertility, I knew what I wanted. It was simple: I wanted to add to my family. 4 specialists and 1 year later, I wasn’t sure anymore. I saw the toll this took on my family, my marriage, my finances, my heart. If the end result was a baby, then it would all be worth it. But what if the end result was still empty arms? I had never considered it before. Perhaps I was hopelessly optimistic, but I was sure that eventually the process would work. I was sure that the last steps of my journey landed me in a delivery room waiting to meet my precious child.
What if a child isn’t the end of this journey? What would I have to show for it besides an empty savings account and a broken heart?
These new questions plagued me as I drove again to Dallas. They bounced about my head as I sat in the waiting room. Slowly I moved to his office. I knew what I needed to do; I needed to get off the roller-coaster.
I thanked my doctor for everything he had done for me. I thanked him for calling me to comfort me when procedures failed and for continuing to be optimistic when things seemed so bleak. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you have gone so beyond what it is required,” I continued with a trembling voice, “But I need a break. I don’t want to go through the holidays counting pills and giving shots. I don’t want to worry that I’m going to miss Thanksgiving dinner because we have to do the procedure that particular day. I want to catch up on the life I’ve been missing because of appointments, procedures and medicinal symptoms.”
He smiled at me, reassuring as always. He agreed. We planned an appointment in January. Then he showed me the next step. It was more aggressive, more invasive and more expensive. But it was a plan.
I smiled politely. I listened. But I guarded my heart. I didn’t have the same naive optimism that I did when I had first walked through that door months before.
The drive back home gave me time to ponder if I would actually call back in January. If I was asked today, I would say, “No. I’m done.” Of course, there is no way to know if I will be refreshed and ready in a few weeks time. Perhaps I will be, but perhaps I won’t.
What I do know for absolute sure is that I needed a break. I needed to get off of the roller-coaster. My body, my heart and my soul need to step back back from the pills, shots, procedures and disappointments.
For now it is a relief to be done with these fertility treatments, but who knows what tomorrow may bring.