It’s over.
Call me Debbie Downer but in my heart, I’ve always known that it wasn’t going to go our way. Right from the start, the odds were firmly stacked against us and it would take a miracle for us to get the happy ending.
Miracles have never happened to me.
But you know, just because there wasn’t much hope doesn’t mean that I wasn’t holding out for a dream come true. Because with every procedure, there is always a faint glimmer of possibility that it might just work. You hear of stories, good stories that have happy endings, and you wonder, maybe, just maybe, it is my turn this time.
It isn’t.
But maybe next time.
In a strange way, though, I am thankful for having gone through this. No, not glad, because nobody who wants a child deserves to go through hell for it. It isn’t fair. But this infertility shit has shown me just how strong and strong-willed I can be. I’ve cried my fair share of tears, I’ve lain in bed feeling sorry for myself but I’ve never allowed myself to stay down. And that’s something nobody can ever take away from me.
But you know what, I could never have done it on my own, as strong as I think I am. Without my darling husband, who patiently took over some of my household duties when I was all choked up with nausea, who never showed signs of giving up hope, who bought me chocolate milkshakes because he just knew I needed one, I would have crumbled. He’s my beacon in the night.
And oh, all those other people – some friends and some strangers – who brought me so much love and encouragement. Someone once told me that the support of friends is very important for those going through IVF and it’s true. The support that I had envisioned from my usual quarters did not materialise; instead, the cheers came from people whom I have never, ever expected to hear from. And it meant so much to me, to know that people were rooting for me.
Special mention to:
- My friend the Queen of the Prairie – for oohing and ahhing at the right times, for christening my little underdog embryos, for sending me those lovely, lovely flowers, for giving me hugs over Whatsapp even though she is far away in Kansas.
- The wonderful Miss Ene – for texting me regularly and asking how I am, for helping me with you-know-what (I don’t want to jinx it by saying it out loud!)
- My cousins/godsisters – for just being there and never, NEVER saying platitudes like, oh it will work. They kept it real. And I appreciate that.
- The Squirts – for bringing me dinner when I was sick, for coming over to keep me company just because, for having that super cute baby who makes me laugh all the time.
- Yuling – for always, always sending me the sweetest messages that never fail to bring tears to my eyes. She’s a mother of one but she gets it. She just gets it.
- Everyone who has ever left encouraging comments or emailed me – you have no idea how much those messages mean to me. They made me smile and they kept me going. Your comments allowed me to be real, to be me. Thank you Serene, Dot, Bookjunkie, Pleasure Monger, Lady J, Sherie and oh, so many others!
- The cleverest, funniest Dr Y – poor him, for being stuck with a high maintenance patient like me, always bombarding him with text messages. But he did his best and he was always kind. He’s also probably the most positive person in the world. I’m so glad to have found him. Although I don’t think he shares the same sentiments.
So what’s our next step going to be?
Husband and I have talked it through and we have some ideas. I’m going to let this poor little body of mine detox and have a rest before starting on another cycle. We’re going for a quick holiday in two months’ time and in the meantime, there’s going to be plenty of beer guzzling, wine sipping and sashimi slurping.
I’m going to bloody live again.
Leaving you with this beautiful song by my two favourite singers that’s made me cry and cry when I was at the lowest point. I just hope that there will be something for us to look forward to this coming Christmas.
Yannisms 