Not my favorite color.
It doesn’t really matter how we have hoped for the best and expected the worst. When the worst comes, the result still stings.
I sort of miscalculated when 13 days past IUI was. I thought that it was going to be tomorrow, Friday. Then I realized that it was going to be today, Thursday. I was going to do a home pregnant test on Thursday. The result would dictate the direction of a blood pregnancy test on Friday. Well, 13 DPIUI is today. I was supposed to test yesterday. I chickened out. I would rather not know. So this morning I woke up and got a high temperature. I wanted to be around my hubby when I test so I did it this morning. I pulled out an internet cheapie, dipped it in the urine, and waited for the one pink line to show up. One pink line remained for the whole duration I was staring at the pee stick. My heart did not even skip a beat. It was just like the handful of times I have tested in the last two years. One. Pink. Line. I cleaned up, left the pee stick on the sink, and walked downstairs. Bob looked up from making breakfast. I just said, “Nothing.” He came and gave me a big hug. I wasn’t feeling sad. It was as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I carried on like usual, thinking to myself that I was doing quite well with my emotions. I wrote to Dr. E asking if I should stop the progesterone and aspirin, and to confirm that I indeed wouldn’t need to do a blood test.
I left to go to work. I usually pray for the length of time that I drive in to work. I usually pray for other people as well as for me and Bob. Today the prayer was for me and many questions in my head. When are we going to get our baby? How do we keep the faith and hope that it will one day happen to us? What do we do to depend on You, Lord, for our strength? How do I get through the day knowing that we have failed another cycle? Questions questions questions. I am also asking God about my friend who I shared about previously who was pregnant with twins. At another ultrasound it was discovered that she had three heartbeats. A couple of days ago, she lost two of the babies. (If you know me in real life and know who I am talking about, please respect this friend and not to tell anyone about it or ask me or her any questions about it. Thank you.) One embryo was totally reabsorbed and could not be found on the ultrasound. The other embryo measured at 9 week 4 days. She went from two, to three, to now one. I have been so so sad about this news and for her. I do not understand why she has to be given two heartbeats, then three heartbeats, then down to one again. I am full of questions today. I doubt that I will get any clear answers.
I wasn’t sad when I saw the one pink line. I started to get sad when I cried out to the Lord in the car. I teared up on my way to work and continued to talk to Him. Although I was sad, I was still at peace and calm. Isn’t that a weird combination? I was sad for me and Bob. I was also sad for my friend who now tries so hard to fathom what has happened and how in the world she is going to hold onto that one baby inside her after losing two. There are just so many unknowns.
A little tear was good for my soul. Allowing myself to be a little sad helps me recover from the disappointment of this cycle. I am doing well again. So here we are friends. Stark white strikes again. And what can we do? We just press on and hope that the stark white will turn into a beautiful pink one day.