So. A friend of mine had her blood test yesterday after her 2WW and she is not carrying any children. Sucks. Her IVF #1 did not take.
She and her husband had a rough time, getting through the night, knowing they would wake up and be asked by co-workers, “Sooooo? What’s the news?!” Worse yet, waking up NOT pregnant and feeling as if the options of conception have run out.
Truth is? My first IVF worked so I don’t know how to comfort this couple. But what we DO have in common is the feeling of heartbreak in having tried and having fallen upwards. “Failed” is too strong of a word. No one fails. Everyone who has ever tried is NOT a failure. Although, at this very moment, knowing my friend, she feels as though she is one. And that she is to blame.
I think the worst part of falling upwards is the feeling of hope being lost. Without hope, there would be no one running for president, no marathons being trained for, no one asking that incredible man out for some coffee. There would be no sense of having tried and having pride in that.
I told my friend and her husband that despite such discouraging news, they WILL be wonderful parents. And that were to try again or not – the decision of having tried this one time was worth it. They might have been 90-years-old some day, wondering, “What if…” Now they have an answer and how they proceed is up to them.
I do not think they will consider an IVF #2. Just a hunch. But I sure am proud they went for it for a round. I just hope the co-workers and family they will encounter respect their privacy and decisions. Sometimes people who never went through infertility or conception through medical assistance don’t know how to be human. So they say something effed-up. Like, “Oh, well. Maybe you shouldn’t parent.” Or, “Oh, well. God’s plan.” NOT the right words to say. Come on now, people.
On a side note but sort of in the same vain – I have this race to run after the baby is born. I made a wager with my best friend that I could beat him in a one-mile race. I run a fast mile as I have what is known as the, “fast gene.” I got tested for it a long time ago during marathon training. I’ve always excelled in speed and endurance. HOWEVER, my friend is a man with broad shoulders and strong legs. He’s also freakishly fast. Now, the beauty of this bet is that the idea of running this race (for charity) brings me to such a happy place in my mind. In MY head, I am the victor. And his punishment for losing is to cook for me in a frilly apron. There is NO way he will win. I’m determined.
However, I must admit, a small part of me is scared he will win. He’s the better athlete at the moment. And he always beats me in everything we compete against. He’s THAT guy. Annoying. He excels at everything he does.
So who should win? The demi-god? Or the the chick with heart? I’m not saying he lacks heart. But I REALLY want to win. And he knows it. Jerk. :)
So, yes – my wanting to try is going to get me through these next few weeks and throughout the come back I will have in my physical fitness. I’ve never won any contest before and I would love to win this one. Not because I would be beating a boy. But because it’s the one thing I have reservations about – winning against him. He’ll never know it though.
But? ….
At the moment I point and laugh at him and tell him he is dreaming. :)
