I’m not pregnant. This morning I got a stark white BFN on an FRER at 10DPO. Another attempt without the desired result. Honestly, I was prepared for this. Remember how I said I was symptom free and at peace? Well the night I wrote that post I had some acute uterine cramping. It was 7DPO and I was sure it meant something. The fact that my boobs got intensely sore the next day, and stayed that way, only further fed my assumption that I was pregnant. And my temps have been quite high and steady. Then yesterday I started bawling while reading Isa Corduroy. I mean come on? REALLY?! How could I not be with those tell tale signs?
But I’m not. My body deceived me. I can keep doing this, keep trying and failing, but it’s infinitely harder when my body gives me reason to hope. I’m so angry at it right now, for inflating that wishful thinking into certainty. I’m so angry at it for holding out a mirage what I so wanted and then snatching it away. At least now I’ve learned, do not trust your body. It is broken and it can’t be trusted. You must ignore it at all costs. Just don’t give it the time of day.
And yet I have to start treating it better. We decided before we started that if we weren’t pregnant by the third month trying (and yes I count our first missed month as trying because I was trying, I just couldn’t get the other half of our team to try with me), we’d start hunkering down. No more Diet Coke (me), no more coffee and beer (Mi.Vida). He’ll pull out the computer pad so his machine isn’t cooking his junk. I’ll actually start doing the fertility yoga I got on DVD. Next month we start this for realz. I’m not looking forward to it.
It’s probably for the best I’m not pregnant right now. The timing would have coincided almost exactly with my first pregnancy, with the one I lost. And I’d be pregnant with my friends in Austin during the six week mark (which took place over July 4th) when I started losing it, and it would be hard and scary. I’d hate for some medical emergency to happen with them, ruining the vacation for everyone, and if I were pregnant I’d probably be thinking about that the whole time. So now I can go and just be thinking about how I’m drinking a ton of beer and other other shit right after I ovulated and how I’m not going to care because there is infinitely more chance that I’m not going to find out I’m pregnant when I get home, so why make myself feel shitty about having a good time?
Today we spend time with Mi.Vida’s friend and his very pregnant wife. I was originally told I didn’t have to go but then, when it was made clear I actually planned on not going, Mi.Vida got upset. I guess he expected I’d still go, even though I didn’t have to, because that was the socially acceptable thing to do. (This was the fight we had earlier this week). So I said I’d go. And now, even though he sees again how upset I am about it, he’s saying I can opt out. But I won’t. He made me feel shitty for not going, so now I’ll go. The truth is, he’s right, I should be able to suck it up and go. I just don’t want to.
It’s not that her pregnancy is so hard for me to deal with. There is just something about seeing it and knowing that she’s spent the last eight months being pregnant, while I’ve spent it in counseling trying to convince my partner that we should get pregnant, and then waiting until what turned out to be a completely arbitrary start date, and then failing in our first three attempts. It’s just a sad reminder of how fucking hard this past year has been, and what my life might look like if it had been different. Every single step of family planning and building has been this long, protracted battle of wills and I’m so tired from it. I’m so depressed that this is what creating my family looks like for me. I think it has irrevocably altered the way I view my own family, and the families of those around me, and not in a positive way.
After seeing friends today we’re going house hunting again. It’s the first time since we saw the house we loved, the house I still think about, still sometimes dream about. I’m not expecting much, in fact I’m pretty much dreading it. I’m basically just dreading today, as I have been for ages. The positive pregnancy test was supposed to buoy me through these difficult stretches but instead I got a BFN and now I have to trudge through in my own, heavy shoes.
Fuck. I’m so mad at myself for getting my hopes up. I’m such a complete and total idiot.
I know I’ll get through this. I know I’ll come out alive on the other side. Just eight more hours. I can make it through.