Sunday, April 26, 2009


I know I’ve been a bad blogger, and I apologize. I haven’t been absent intentionally, and yet, I have no real excuses. I’ve come to my blog every day, and have clicked on “New Post” several times. My fingers have hovered over the keyboard, and no words have come out. I’m just feeling blank. No other word for it. Just blank.

Is my new job keeping me that busy? Not really. My new job is just that – a new job. I have realized I’m not going to get any intellectual stimulation in this new job. And I have realized I probably cannot make a career out of being in this company. So, unless things change, I’m treating it as just a new job. I will work diligently, but I’m not hoping for or envisioning a long-term plan with this job.

Where am I with IF? Nowhere. I find myself not thinking about IF or not planning my next steps. Maybe it’s just the feeling of “snapping free” from a long and terrible 12 months of treatments, losses and failures. My chemical pregnancy was around this time last year. I was so numbed out. At that point I thought the only way forward would be upward. But no. Little did I know what was in store for me for the rest of the year.

Now? Now I’m just numb. I think it’s because right here, right now, the state I’m in, I have “hope”. No, I don’t have hope that I will have a baby at the end of this, but I have hope because I have 4 frozen embryos. My body has not yet killed the 4 embryos that we have. I feel like if I proceed with the FET, and it doesn’t work (either by way of a BFN or by way of another pregnancy loss), I wouldn’t even have that one ray of hope that I’m so desperately hanging on to right now.

And this is very unlike me too – I’m usually the kinds who barrels right ahead with any treatment, or any “next steps” that we have. But this time, it feels different. It feels like it IS the final hurrah, the last crusade. If this doesn’t work, then we don’t think we have the stamina, capability or just the patience to try any more. I may be stuck where I’ve been for 8 years – trying to conceive a child, but time hasn’t stopped. I turned 38 last month, and I do realize I’m fighting a losing battle now.

Weeks had gone past and we hadn’t talked about IF and our FET. But last week DH and I spoke for a little bit. Very tentative plans – what should we do about FET? When should we attempt it? As of now, we feel like we will probably shoot for June or July. Of course a large part of the attempt will now depend on Aunt F, and considering that I’ve subjected my body to various drugs and hormones over the last year, I’m not sure when Aunt F is going to visit. I’m on CD 21 today. I plan to call CCRM with my next AF, so see what our schedules can be like.

So we’ll see. I don’t have the capability to hope for myself anymore. I don’t have the energy or the stamina to think of new options or to ask the doctors any more questions. I’m totally out of steam and I want this nightmare to be over.

I want to wake up to a normal life. Life was not supposed to be like this. Something went terribly wrong somewhere…..


DAVs said...

Ah, Nikki. The dreaded hope. If it helps at all, let us hold onto the hope for you. I know it's hard, but honestly, I have so much hope for those four embryos!
Hang in there. I'm glad you have the new job to keep your mind somewhat occupied.

JJ said...

Nikki, hope does go a long way and it's a good feeling having those embryos safe. I enjoyed that feeling immensely until my embies became my body's responsibility again. I'm glad you're thinking of doing the FET in a few month's time. You might be bowled over by the outcome. Hugs.

Anonymous said...

((HUGS)) I will hope for you.

Phoebe said...

Dang, I'm so sorry about the toll this has taken on you. I can relate.

Jill M. said...

I think we can all relate to that "blank" feeling. It happens when we're worn out and feeling like nothing will work. Sending you a virtual (((hug))).

Kymberli said...

It seems like you and I are in that same empty space. I've been writing a bit on my blog but I'm not following others the way I should. I poke my head out long enough to put a post up on my blog then promptly duck my head back under the covers again.

My IPs are in much in the same position that you are in, and of course that has an effect on me. I am afraid for them. This is likely going to be their last cycle and they barely have any shreds of hope left to hold on to. It's scary, and even that is an understatement.

I'm hoping for you just as much as I'm hoping for them -- tons. (((HUGS)))

Anonymous said...

i think that it is totally normal to feel this way.

how many will they thaw? all four? or two and see how they respond in hopes to keep the other two? i've always wondered this.

i am interested to hear what ccrm says about when things might progress next.

i've been thinking lots about you and am glad to hear that you are still around....the blankness has to pass, right? i'm still hopeful!

Blossom and Her Fruit said...

Nikki, your post really got to me. To feel normal again... I have no idea what that would be. this is just a very painful process. I am here to cheer you on this summer.

Kris said...

Hope is my best friend and worst enemy- all on the same day. I will have enough hope for you because I know how hard it is to have for yourself...I've been there and still am there.

Chhandita said...

I don't know what to say. What can I say that will make you feel better? All I can say is we here for you...

Sue said...

I agree with Ashley - if it helps at all, I will hold some of that hope for you. I really do hold a lot of hope for those four embies.

I also know that blank feeling and how it sometimes almost feels better that the fear and uncertainty of going forward with that last big hurrah. I was there yesterday...and am just starting to move upward today. I think I preferred yesterday. HUGS.

Sarang said...

I, too, am hopeful for you and your frozen embies. You have some great embryos on ice and they are there, waiting for you, when you are ready.

Though none of us can know what it's like walking in another's shoes, I know what it's like putting hope into frozen embryos.

I'm going to hope for both of us!

With love, L

Charlotte Heaven said...

YOur last 2 lines in that post...I get that and have felt that way recently.
I too, have not blogged...I have been uninspiried to write anything at all. It kinda sucks.
Hope things turn around for you soon. Big (((hugs)))

Caroline said...

Hi Nikki,

I have had you on my mind, and I have been wondering how you are. You have had such an intense time over the last year, that I am not surprised that you are feeling numb right now. I think that numbness can be a good thing at times as it allows us a break from our strong and exhausting emotions.
Let me know how you are getting on,

Lorraine said...

I so hope that this is all just part of that "darkest hour is just before dawn" thing. You have gone through so much, and there is such a real chance that it is all going to work out with your next cycle and you can live happily ever after and...

Yeah - that's a lot of pressure, eh? But we'll have all the hope in the world for you as soon as you're ready.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry Nikki you feel so low.
Have you considered other options for having a family?
I remember you had mentioned that you feel adoption is a second choice or done on the rebound when IF treatments don't work but I can tell you from my experience that adopting my DD at birth even though the experience was hard emotionally it has enritched our lives to no end. I couldn't love her any more if I had given birth to her myself, she IS OUR LITTLE GIRL!!! Even though I'm pg now, our DD will always have a special place in my heart because she was the light at the end of a very dark tunnel when all our IVFs resulted in losses and heartbreak.
If you want to email me I'm at

Take care of you,

the Babychaser: said...

Oh, honey, how true your post seems to me. Life was not supposed to be like this. We've been on such a long IF break that it almost seems like life has returned to what it was before we started trying. But I'm now 37 instead of 33. And sometimes I wake up and look around my house and say "how did this happen? How is it that, four years later, we're still in the same place?"

That "blank" feeling is depression, and its both understandable and normal. And, for most of us, it's something that you can ride out.

One final thought, for what it's worth: it's unlikely that your body is "killing" the embryos. My understanding is that such a condition is rare, while the common problem is that the embryos just weren't that viable to start with. Of course, the outcome is the same. But maybe you can feel a little less betrayed by your body?

Take care of yourself, sweetie. As I tell myself daily (yearly?), this is a phase in your life that you will get past. Somehow. Someday.

banditgirl said...

Nikki, I am so sorry about the numbness and exhaustion you are experiencing. They are very human emotions to have right now, given the situation. I think it's great that you two are allowing a natural course for the ebbs and flows of the "what's the next step" conversation. I am also very psyched about your wonderful 4 embies. That is hope and if you feel hope, you should go with that. I would concur with Babychaser that probably those embies that didn't make it were not meant to make it anyway. Thinking of you and sending you lots of love.