Where Do We Go From Here?

At the beginning of my next cycle, after my trip, I was supposed to call the Victoria Fertility Centre to tell them, so that they could book me in for IVF in my next cycle (ie. about a month from now). I was seriously overdue for my period (6.5 days) this morning, so I finally took a pregnancy test . It said "not pregnant." I was confounded and went back to bed angrily and proceeded to sleep away the morning, filled with nausea and stomach pains.

My cat, Lamont, gladly kept me company.

Around noon, I awoke and found that I had the first signs of my period. Great, so I just threw away about $16 on something my body would have confirmed for free had I held out just a few hours longer. Why did I go through all of that emotional drama leading up to the pregnancy test? Why did my period have to be that late? Or is this an early miscarriage? The thought crossed my mind only because of all the research I did on miscarriages a couple of months ago when I was going through mine. Apparently late periods are sometimes early miscarriages and women just never realize they are because they never took a pregnancy test earlier, before the fetus aborted.

Either way, I was thoroughly pissed off, but naturally, also disappointed. This whole monthly cycle of hoping, waiting, and then writhing with heart crushing disappointment (almost inevitable, except for that one month, which actually turned out to be a more heartbreaking disappointment when I miscarried).

I had thought that I would be ready to proceed with IVF (for real this time, because I didn't anticipate getting pregnant on the eve of having IVF last time) when I returned from vacation. But now I feel even more conflicted, if that's possible. With each passing month and disappointment, I feel more and more doubtful that I could ever be a competent parent, let alone a good one. I grow more and more scared of if my body can actually carry a baby to term (didn't work out last time), if my brain can withstand the hormonal changes brought on IVF hormones and then pregnancy if it happens, if my brain can withstand the sleep deprivation and further hormonal changes with having a baby if I ever get there, and how I'll manage being a parent for the rest of my life. I'm overwhelmed with fears and doubts that have only multiplied with each year that I have not had a child. I've been on prenatal vitamins for six years. I've watched almost everyone in my life, who is plus or minus 10 years of my age have children (some willing, some reluctant, and some surprised into parenthood) and I have remained childless, feel increasingly socially shunned and isolated, and more and more doubtful that I can ever fit into this clique.

Maybe it's a sign and I'm not meant to be a parent. Maybe the curtain it falling on my childbearing years to allow me to explore something else in the next stage of my life. Maybe my genes are just bad. They say that it's darkest before the light, but I feel like it's been dark for so long that I would be permanently blinded if the light ever found me again. Perhaps this shadow world is my permanent home and my life is just not going to include children. But how could I live a life without children when they've factored so deeply into my plans for my future life and my future identity? I've defined myself always as a future parents and the future just isn't arriving, so who am I? Who am I becoming? What will I do with all of those years that might be left in my life? Am I going to have to become a kitten rescuer or something?

My husband has been devastated by this journey as well and tells me not to decide right away, but I know that he just desperately wants to proceed with IVF as soon as possible before it's too late and we're forever barred from becoming parents (except by adoption or divine intervention perhaps). He has always defined himself as a future parent and sees it as crucial to his life's plan. What would he ever do if he had no children?

We've already become weird hermits who have an unhealthy obsession with our one cat, Lamont. Our increasing desperation for a baby, has led to increased babying of the cat (not that he minds it most of the time). 

You can very clearly see Lamont thinking 'not again!'

Most of our friends have drifted away to other cities or into the parenthood club that we are not a part of and may never be. I think that people think that our life looks pretty charmed, but many are not aware of the unexplained infertility struggle/nightmare that we've been living the past many, many years. They see us doing things that they would like to do, but can't because they have children and say that they're jealous. We look at them, snuggled at home with their bundles of joy and feel hot tears sting our eyes and our throats tighten with emotion that we can't share with most of them, because it's just not socially acceptable or would be seen as oversharing.

Should we go through with IVF this next cycle or should we wait? We were already warned we shouldn't wait long, because of our advanced ages (the miscarriage rate keeps going up every year by a lot). But it's hard to get excited about spending thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars and injecting myself with countless hormones, undergoing further tests, having my eggs extracted out of my vagina with a needle, etc. all for the roll of the dice odds of getting pregnant (minus the 20-25% chance of miscarriage). I had talked myself into it and hyped myself up last time, only at the last minute to find out that I was pregnant naturally and "didn't need" IVF. Well, I do again, and I feel like I've lost my nerve again. Great.

I know there are success stories (it would increase our odds of conceiving per cycle from 3% or 50%), we've all heard them and read about them, but there are also countless couples who don't find success with IVF either after all of that time, money, and pain. I just never pictured having to do this (not that anyone does) and I'm having a really hard time (again) accepting that this is my path.

Perhaps a few good sleeps will make the future look less bleak and make our decision become more apparent.