The end and the beginning... again
Friday afternoon, I had some spotting the size of a quarter. Not much, but just enough to make me think the cycle was officially over and it still had not worked. But the spotting stopped. Saturday, nothing. Some pinkinsh stuff after sex, but really, nothing. Just enough to make me wonder if it was not maybe implantation spotting or my uterus stretching... Foolish. Sunday morning, my period arrived full force.Every cycle it's the same old story. No matter how hard I try to convince myself it's not gonna work and I'm never going to be a mom, I still end up expecting a miracle and being disappointed and frustrated. I try to fight back the tiny glimmer of hope that keeps creeping in during the 2 weeks following ovulation, but it still manages to settle in and make damages. I would like to be pessimistic and keep my feet on the ground. But it seems impossible, even after so much time. Stupid positivity making me get my hopes up for nothing.
The worst about all this, is that I end up mad at myself for letting my feelings get the better of me. I am angry to have been fooled by my own imagination. My body is laughing at me, telling me what I want to hear and then doing the opposite. I want to let go, I really do. I would love to shut off all thinking during the 2ww. Or better yet, sleep it all off and wake up when it's over. I try not to think *too much* about all this. But it would be like asking me not to breathe for 2 weeks. I just can't.
After the arrival of the red tide, come the days of self-pity and rage. I repeat to myself I will never be a mom, I don't believe it anymore, it will never happen to us, we're not worth it, we're not cut out to be parents. My belly is not good enough, my love not strong enough to create and sustain life. And I ask the same old stupid rhetorical questions: why us? why me? why??! why do I keep going on this merry-go-round? The mix of rage, disappointment, injustice, hope, being sick of it all and wanting to go on is all too much to take. These self-centered days are triggered by the end of the cycle, but kept alive for some time by the Femara-demon.
I am tired of playing the same tune over and over again. I am tired of all this. I am tired of seing everybody around me BUT me get pregnant. I don't know how much longer I will be able to keep this up. I am tired of seing P's face so sad when I tell him it's over. I am tired and alone and frustrated and pissed. But, most of all, I still do have some hope. If I didn't, why would I still be doing all this?
posted by Kiwi at
11:14 AM
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