In Hindsight.

November 16, 2010 at 10:45 am | Posted in Infertility | 21 Comments

I shouldn’t have let myself go down the path of believing it’d work out.

I should have distanced myself more.

I shouldn’t have allowed myself to believe that my best friend and I would have babies at the same time.

I shouldn’t have pictured O as a big brother.

I shouldn’t have thought of the embryo as the name we picked for our next son.

I shouldn’t have bought into the hope that we’d never have to go to our clinic again.

I shouldn’t have decided that three fresh cycles to bring home O was enough to go through for the family we wanted.

I should have realized that bringing home a baby by using our last frozen embryo was probably too much to ask.

I shouldn’t have told the people I did, because untelling people is really fucking hard.

I should have realized that we’re just one of those couples that always ends up on the other side of the bell curve.

I shouldn’t have assumed that surgery fixed me.

I should have realized that this process is HARDER now that we have O, because I know exactly what I’m missing.

I should have remembered how much this hurts.



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  1. Hon, I’m so sorry. You can only do the best you can in the moment, and that’s what you did.

  2. Oh sweetie. I know it hurts. I know it does. Hugs.

  3. The thing is, if it *did* work out, you’d have been right to connect with this small life. And it would have needed you to do so. We’re only human … and human beings hope. Without it, I don’t think we’d see much point in living, sometimes. We need it in order to survive.

    That doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt like hell. *hug*

  4. This isn’t your fault. It isn’t your fault that it’s hurting. This would hurt even if you did everything you could to not hope. The truth is, no matter what we tell ourselves, we always hope. If we didn’t have even a tiny bit of hope, we wouldn’t do it at all, because what would be the point? You can’t control your inner hope. You can’t stop it from creeping in. And you should be ALLOWED to envision your family of four without beating yourself up for it when it hurts that a cycle failed.

    This process hurts. I think people perceive that it’s easier the second, or third, or whatever time around, but I didn’t find that. I found it much harder to go through the second round of fertility treatment. We had to juggle a lot more to make the appointments happen, my husband wasn’t able to come with me to retrievals or transfers most of the time because someone needed to stay home with the kids. I knew *exactly* what I was missing if things didn’t work. I wanted it more than ever. This is normal.

    It’s not your fault that it hurts. It’s infertility’s fault that it hurts.

  5. Hope is not a bad thing. It kicks us in the gut sometimes but it’s never a bad thing. Thinking of you today.

  6. Just letting you know that I’m here and sending love your way. There’ll always be “should haves” on this journey. Try to be easy with yourself and know that we all care about you and love you sweetie. *hugs*

  7. To play the devil’s advocate, if you had successfully distanced yourself (and really, who is able to do this? We are only human), and it didn’t work out, you would have wondered if you could have changed things by caring more.

    Even if we swear up and down that we’re not involved, a negative is still gut-crushingly awful. And beta hell is even worse.

    But I’m so sorry it sucks so much. I’m sorry this happened with your last embryo. I do know what it’s like to use up your frosties and doubt whether you can face another fresh cycle (although not after as many as you’ve been through). It is so so so hard to face up to it all again.

    Here for you, no matter what you decide, and through all the rough days ahead.


  8. Even if you handn’t, you would hurt the same way my friend… Sending you my love !

  9. Sending you love. That’s all I know to do right now. 😦

  10. while this was written so beautifully…such powerful words, I don’t think it was wrong to hope, to think GOOD things, to daydream about that embryo being a baby and a sibling and REAL..because it was….

    I am still holding HOPE for you, because I believe deep down inside of me that you are meant to have another child…and so I will sit and wait , pray and be patient until it happens.

    love u.

  11. I wish there was something I could say or do. I wish that this post was just beautifully written fiction but I understand how much meaning and hurt there are in those words. I am sorry.

  12. I know we want to protect ourselves…to think that if we prepare for the worst that it won’t hurt as much. But, that’s a lie. It does hurt. Just as much. And, if you didn’t hope, you would have told yourself that it was your negative thinking that caused it not to work. There is no protecting yourself from this pain. It will always be with you. But, eventually it will subside and will have residence in a smaller part of your heart. Kiss your beautiful O. It’s only over when you want it to be.

  13. What Cibele said – it would still hurt, no matter what. Don’t beat yourself up because of it. All I can say is I’m sorry. It isn’t fair.

  14. Sending you love and hugs.

  15. I like Justine’s phrasing.

    You shouldn’t have done anything other than what you did do, as each moment unfolded.


  16. You’d think that after all that hurt, it would be something we’d remember wouldn’t it? Yet, somehow we bury it so the pain is dull and we allow ourselves to hope and dream and wish for things to be different. I know I was hoping to “recapture” some of my lost innocence that IF took away from me when we were trying with our FETs for a sibling. That surely I could try to enjoy it all a bit and go into it with a little less guardedness.

    I’m sorry you have to re-experience the pain and hurt of it all again.

  17. You know that these shoulds and shouldn’ts are just wrong, don’t you? A very wise friend of mine said once, there is no point blaming yourself for something you already feel bad about. Here is one of those situations. This is not about what you did or didn’t do. It is not your fault.

    I know you know that. I know it really really hurts. I am so sorry.

  18. Even if you had distanced yourself, you would still be hurting. You didn’t do anything wrong, and not caring or hoping wouldn’t have made the heartache any less. I am sorry you are hurting right now. I wish things had been different.

  19. I don’t think it’s even possible to try again if you don’t have hope that it will work. Nor should you have to. IF has taken so much from us, it shouldn’t take away the joy of getting a little excited when things seem to be on the right track. I’m sorry it didn’t turn out differently. And that it hurts so freaking much.

  20. Should. Shouldn’t. It would have been hard either way. I wish it was easier.


  21. I’m so sorry for your loss. I don’t have words of wisdom — others have taken care of that. Just be as gentle to your poor, hurting self as you can.

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