It’s the same old song

Every morning, en route to my office, my bus drives right by Grant Park, a beautiful lakefront park in downtown Chicago. Hubs and I will be there baking under the steamy August sun this Sunday, as we are every first weekend in August, listening to our fave bands and discovering new ones at Lollapalooza.

This weekend is also the one-year anniversary of the first home pregnancy test I ever took. (I’ve only taken four since then, all because Clinic #1 required them.) It had been weeks and weeks since I’d been off birth control and while I was 90% sure I hadn’t ovulated and wasn’t pregnant (I’ve never ever ever had a symptom, remember?), I wanted to make absolutely sure before indulging in some beers at the the concert. I remember standing in my bathroom early that Saturday morning, hopping from one foot to the other, waiting to see. UP popped the control line, in a flash. And of course, that was all there was. One lonely line. Hubs gave me a hug, then I took a walk around my neighborhood and thought and thought about my next steps. I knew something was wrong.

I was fine afterwards, it wasn’t a shock or anything. But late that night, after a couple of beers were in my system, tears began rolling down my cheeks while hubs and I watched the Fleet Foxes play an aftershow at a bar. It was this endless well of emotion that I didn’t even know was inside me, and I was tapping it for the very first time.

I wish I could go back in time and give that woman a hug. She had NO idea what was in store for her and how tough her year would be. Provera. TSH test. Referred to RE. Consult with Dr. C. The Clomid bust months. The crazy-thin lining. The HSG. Second consult with Dr. C. The cysts. Consult with Dr. K. The hours and hours and hours of Googling.  The bench months. The early morning monitoring appointments. The blood draws. The canceled cycles. The injectables. The failed IUI. Consult with Dr. A. The second failed IUI. The third IUI. The jealousy. The fear. The anger. The regret. The frustration. The guilt. The shame. The heart-crushing longing to see two lines. So many tears.

And now I can’t help but wonder, as I look forward to my weekend at Lolla….do I need a hug now? The truth is, I STILL have idea what’s in store for me. Will I ever get to move forward, and leave this purgatory?



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21 responses to “It’s the same old song

  1. D

    I am in almost the exact same boat…this month marks a year since the first time I wondered “if.” I’ve been thinking a lot about how innocent I was then and how exciting it all seemed, all the possibilities. I definitely wish I could go back in time and give that girl a hug, along with a nice stiff drink.

  2. Oh, Egg. This line really hit me:

    “I wish I could go back in time and give that woman a hug.”

    You have no idea how many times I wish I could go back and warn myself and prepare for what was ahead. I don’t know that it would have made the pain any less unbearable, but at least I would know. I have a bookshelf at home of books on baby names and crap like “What to Expect…” and I think, “If I had only known back then what I know now, maybe I would have waiting. Maybe I wouldn’t have just assumed that things were going to just happen.”

    This sucks. I hope to God that the end of your purgatory is near. Until then, I’ll be waiting down here with you.


  3. This post really touched me, Egg. I wish I could give that woman a hug, too, and tell her that this is going to be really hard, but that she is stronger than she thinks and will be okay.

    I sometimes think the same things about myself. I remember crying on the phone to my mom in June last year about how I *couldn’t* wait a year to get pregnant, I just *couldn’t*, no matter how “normal” they say it is. And 14 months later, here I am. And I’m okay. I’m sad but okay. And so are you.

    I’d rather be here than there. We didn’t know as much and we hadn’t suffered through as much, but we probably also didn’t have as much confidence in ourselves and our marriages as we do now. Plus, we are now one year closer to having a baby, whenever it may come.

  4. Ugh, the dreaded anniversary of the first pregnancy test. I remember mine well and each year that passed was a sad reminder of those first days of innocence. BUT – you are so, so close to leaving this purgatory, Egg. You have great follies, great lining, great E2. It’s just a matter of that lucky egg meeting that lucky spermie.

  5. big hugs to you :o) i think you’re in excellent hands with dr awesome, and i’m ever so glad you left your previous RE. while i’m sure he was fine, dr awesome has already figured out your body and what you need to get that e2 up and out of the gutter!! you’re in good hands, your body knows how to respond to meds now –> that’s a recipe for a bfp, if you ask me :o)

    ugh, when i look back and remember when we first started ttc, i can’t help laugh at the naive little girl that i was. i thought *for sure* we’d get pregnant within 3 months, ABSOLUTE LATEST. i kept calc-ing “if the first month works, due date will be … if we get pregnant 2nd month, due date will be …” UGH!!!

  6. AL

    Hugs, Egg. It’s so frustrating to think back on how long it’s been and how much as happened and have no idea if the end is near.

    I hope you will be out of this purgatory very, very soon. And that your first IUI with Dr. Awesome is IT.

    Have a great time at Lolla. ❤

  7. You’ve been through the wringer. Not that I didn’t know that, but when you boil it down to one paragraph, it becomes even clearer. Your future self will want to come back to today’s self, hug her, and tell her everything is going to be OK.

  8. Those anniversaries are always so hard. Thinking of you and sending tons of hugs.

  9. Never thought about it, but yeah, I could totally go back a year and give me a great big hug!

  10. God, are we really on this same path together? My “anniversary” of my first HPT was mid-July. And thinking about how it brought tears to my eyes then also made me think about how I had no clue how much it would hurt now. I’m trying not to think about this 2ww. I’m trying not to think what if we never leave this purgatory, as you call it. But I can’t help it. I can honestly say this is the most difficult thing I have ever, ever been through in my life.

    Hang in the, Egg. I’ve been praying for ya that this is the cycle.

  11. JC

    ((Hugs)) Egg. I’m sorry about the reminder. The last part touched me too. =( I hope get to move past this very soon and get you BFP.

  12. I wish that I could give that woman and THIS woman a hug…

  13. *hugs* to you. I wish we could hang out some time. I hope that this next year is not as hard as this one and that you get some answers. I hope you enjoy your concert!

  14. This is a wonderful post to read, although I only imagien it was hard to write and feel those things. No matter how much we try to throw away the calendar, there are markers in our life that remind us of where we’ve been before and how different things are now.

  15. As impossibly hard as it is we really have to try as best we can to live in the moment. My mom is constantly reminding me of that (I suppose it’s the kind of wisdom that comes with age). So enjoy this weekend and the time and tradition with your hubby. And if it’s too hard to concentrate on the here and now, just think that hopefully you’ll have to find a babysitter before your next Lallapalooza!!

  16. Kate

    You know what’s funny, is sometimes I like to think of myself, floating up in the air at 10,000 feet, looking down on myself in my life. Looking at my life across time. And realizing that you can never really have happiness without sadness. You think that this past year was a waste, a time of gloom, but someday, you will look at this year and find some nuggets of worth in the experience. This being said, I’d be d@mned if I can find anything good about this experience right now. You have found a strength in your relationship with your husband that you didn’t know you had. You may have found that you can rely upon people more than you thought possible. No one gets though life unscathed. OK, come on Dr. A! Let’s get out of this wringer!

  17. Here’s another hug for the wonderful you that is now. (I just passed the one year anniversary of my chemical, and I wish I could give that me a hug too, the me who thought my upcoming visit to an RE would result in some kind of change.) Like you said, it’s an endless well, and lord only knows how many fish and other wildlife will be killed before someone finally figures out how to cap it off. And there will still be cleanup to deal with.

    What a tough year it’s been for you. I’m glad your new clinic is so much better, and I do believe you will escape this terrible cycle.

  18. Tarah

    *sending LOTS of hugs your way*

    It has been a tough year for you – my heart breaks for you each cycle you put on your tough face and get ready for the next one. I am so hopeful that this new clinic is your key though, it sounds like the doctor is really proactive!

  19. Big hugs 🙂 You will leave that place one day.

  20. Kelly

    This was a great post, Egg.

    I just hope that Future You can look back at where you are now and know that it was all worth it.

  21. FCblacksheep

    First, let me just interrupt your very profound post to say, I’m completely jealous that you got to see Fleet Foxes play an after show right around the corner from your home. To add to this, have you heard of Architecture in Helsinki? I’m currently obsessed.

    Secondly, you have no idea why that girl a year from now will want to hug present you, but I’m sure no matter what, she will. It might just be to say “hang in there, you’re so close.”

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