Compassion for who I was a few hours ago

I say to myself, “I knew I wasn’t pregnant anyway” and so I continue to tell myself I’m okay.

I distract myself even just by listening to my busy self talk, I distract myself. I think of all of the ways I could be okay that it isn’t this month for us and I feel quite peaceful in my body.

And then I remember how just a few hours ago I still had so much hope.

Even though I had seen negative pregnancy tests a few days before, I found myself saying to my husband earlier today “I want to do another pregnancy test because my temps are still high for day 27”. And I get excited about being able to go and get a test.

I remember about 4 years ago now, during the conception journey of our beautiful daughter, how I mentioned to a close friend how many pregnancy tests I would do each month as it was like it could make all the difference if I was or not. I remember her clearly saying lovingly to me “ahh I think we need to have a talk about how a baby is made”. I went to explain to her why I do it and it’s totally like the quantum theorists and Schrodinger’s Cat joke/experiment where the act of observation creates the cat to either be or alive or dead, depending on the moment of observing if it is in fact dead or alive (see what I am referring to in this under 2 min video).

And I really want to be pregnant so surely my act of observation of a pregnancy test and by doing so collapses both parallel realities and possibilities of me either being pregnant or not into the reality I observe (the one I am hopeful for). The whole idea that I COULD actually be pregnant means there is all the hope, until I observe otherwise. And so I continue to test. Even when my ovaries are niggling, telling me I am about to menstruate, I hold on to hope that they are doing something different and a test will give me what I want. To be blessed with a baby like for so many is so easy.

You mean to tell me that by the act of making love and pleasurable sex and connection with your partner can create a child? To me, this is just something I have not experienced (hopefully yet) and I ache for it, again. Now this is where all the reframing comes in where I can say how blessed I am with a daughter to IVF so I am lucky I already have a child and others have it harder and whatever anyone could say. In this moment it just really sucks.

So instead of thinking I am okay. I am reminded by the hope of my past self who thought there was even a possible chance I could be still, just a few hours ago. I mourn for her. I mourn for today. I grieve for the reality of having to hold on to hope and wanting to walk my talk as I know thinking about what others have has got nothing to do with my own journey. As as much as that is true, what I have noticed with fertility is just how much there is out there of fertility seeming so completely easy and natural – take the movies and TV shows for example.

And it just darn isn’t for a lot of people. It’s really crap. There’s not much more I can say. So I’ve had my cry since acknowledging my hopeful self. I am writing this as another way to share this journey so that others who experience it know they are not alone. Even though I don’t think I am going to share this.

Thank you for reading this if you are.