Keeping My Head Above Water

I have found out in the past three days that not only one, but two of my friends are pregnant. Both of them are IF patients. Both of them have had their share of heartache.

One of them is my friend T, who I went to the Feast with on Sunday. Of course, she didn't know that she was pregnant then, but she's been trying for #2. The other one is a theatre friend of mine, and, from what I understand, has been through the wringer with IF issues.

We went to a pumpkin-carving party (I had never carved a pumpkin before-yes, I know that I'm a loser) at a friend's house last night. Sean met us there, since he came from work, and these friends live locally to us and was nice enough to pick me up so we wouldn't have to take two cars. Now, they know all about what we've been doing-in fact, the last time we saw them was at a party over the summer, right before we found out that we were pregnant (and later miscarried), so they didn't know what the update was with us. So, I gave them the short story as we were getting out of the car, and that we were gearing up for IVF#2. I suddenly remembered that I had extra St. Gerard medals in my purse (one of the volunteers gave me a handful of them), so I pulled one out, gave it to her, and told her to keep it with her. She then told me that she was pregnant, and due in April. She's 14 weeks along.

Not to say that she's had an easy time of it-she's scared shitless, had a spotting scare this week, and has been through one miscarriage already, back in the beginning of the year. I really am happy for her, but it brought it home to me that we would have been due within days of each other, had my baby made it. That it would have been the both of us sharing this news to our friends, instead of just her.

I am glad that she told me before she made the announcement last night-it was less of a shock that way. However, it didn't make it easier to see everyone's reaction as she broke the news. It tore my heart apart. I actually had to leave the room at one point because I thought that I was going to start bawling, and I didn't want to ruin that moment for her and make her feel badly.

It also didn't help that I, in the midst of this celebrating, had to do my nightly shoot-up. It brought my situation home to me in a way that I never realized before.

I know that I need to focus on this cycle and not let anything distract me and get in the way-it's so easy to fall into that pit of despair and wallow about in it. I also know that the Lupron doesn't help-the past day or so has been a bit emotional, and the drugs magnify everything 100 fold. I think that the old bitch is about to make her comeback tour through my uterus (although Nursey P informed me that it really isn't her, it's her cousin, Lupron Bleed). The acupuncture has been helping, but it isn't going to permanently prevent my emotions from going into high-gear. It can't take the hurt away.

I've gotten quite good at crying without making any noise, so as not to wake Sean in the middle of the night. He's seen enough tears from me.

Infertility has taught me that, along with other hard truths, like not to expect anything, so you'll be pleasantly surprised later. That you really shouldn't compare yourself with other people, because everyone's story is different.

And that, when it really comes down to it, it's all easier said than done.