All that we've lost

This always seems to happen on a break cycle but this one is hitting hard. The break gives me too much time to sit around and reflect on our journey, on all we've been through, on how much farther we'll have to go. I could never type long enough to cover all my thoughts/emotions on this topic. There are just no words that could appropriately convey the heartache and sacrifice. I can, however, list a few thoughts on all that IF has taken from us, things we can never get back.

I've lost the chance to tell my husband, "I'm pregnant!", and see surprise and excitement on his face. Instead he has to hold my hand and watch me cry over bad betas and vanishing lines on pregnancy tests. Even if I do get a good beta, he will know better than to actually think it will result in a baby. Instead he will be bracing for bad news and the next heartbreaking blow that is sure to be around the corner.

We've lost the chance to tell our families, "We're having a baby!", and see surprise and excitement on their faces. I wanted nothing more in life than to surprise our parents with the news of a new grandchild. That dream is long since gone. Instead of hearing good news from us they have to listen to month after month, cycle after cycle, IVF after IVF, of disappointment and sadness. It's gone on so long that I don't know how much longer I should expect them to care. How much support can they possibly give? If I ever am able to get pregnant I will never be able to surprise them and see pure love and happiness on their faces. They know our treatment schedule. They know when to expect the news, and they know it's going to be bad. It's always, always bad.

Finally, and most importantly, we've lost our innocence and everything that comes with it. I started thinking through all of these things today because something randomly reminded me of a time right before we started TTC. I will never ever forget the conversation we had about starting a family. J was ready to start trying much earlier than I expected and I was absolutely thrilled. I was full of hope, excitement, and something that eludes me lately; happiness. I remember at that time that any conversation about TTC would result in an ear to ear smile that would stay with me all day. It was our decision, our secret, our dream and our future. I always got butterflies in my stomach from the excitement I felt about becoming a mother and sharing that experience with my husband.

I can hardly stand to compare my feelings about TTC at the beginning of our journey to the emotions I associate with it now. We still have the same goal but everything else has changed. What we once thought was our decision, we now know is completely out of our hands. What was once our secret is now a public event, orchestrated by a team of medical professionals and reported in detail to our families and friends. What was once our future is now our failure. It's a crushing failure. How can a journey that once brought us so much joy and happiness now be so tainted by sorrow and heartache? It's hard to believe that we're still on the same road. The hardest thing is knowing that I can't go back. I will never be the innocent TTCer that has unprotected sex with my husband, waits 2 weeks, gets a positive test, and truly believes that I will have a healthy baby in 9 months (it's so ludicrous it's actually making me laugh). It's never gonna happen. Even if I were ever lucky enough to become pregnant, I would never ever be confident in expecting the pregnancy to be successful.

I know that these losses are minor in comparison to more important things that can be lost in life. They aren't even the biggest losses of the year for me. I don't let a day go by without thanking God for all the things that I haven't lost, all of the things that I have to be thankful for. It's those things that keep me going.