Operation Making Baby Sonne, Part 2, Round 2:

Yes. Jacob and I did two more IUIs. Sorry we didn’t tell you.

To be honest, I didn’t tell anyone about this round besides my parents. Last time, with the big fat negative pregnancy test, I just felt I was letting too many people down. Don’t get me wrong, I am very thankful for having so many of you supporting me through this. However, this time, I conducted an experiment to see if I would feel less stressed not having to talk about it. It didn’t help. I was not less stressed, nor was it any less difficult. In fact, I ended up spilling the beans about treatment to a bunch of people anyway. I’m an open book and have a super difficult time pretending otherwise…

So, let’s break down this round from the start.

Soon after my last negative test, I had a phone consultation with my doctor. We agreed to begin another round and do the same meds, same timing, same monitoring, and same procedures as last time. No big deal. I did it once; I could do it again. I started with the letrozole pills to get those follicles growing. Nothing, nada. The only thing the pills grew were several little zits all over my chin and cheeks, which is upsetting because I never have pimples. Ever!

pimples

What the heck, man?

The doc said to try five more pills. This time I grew seven big follicles, one fully mature and ready to pop. That night I did the HCG trigger shot. I continued with back to back IUIs, just like last time. They fell on a Saturday and Sunday, so I didn’t even have to miss any work. It was awesome. Jacob and I got hang out downtown, go out for breakfast, and not have to worry about rushing around. Next up is the dreaded two-week wait. So then we wait…

And wait…

And today the long-awaited blood test arrives…

The result are in…

Negative.

Every time I do this, I know I have to become a little stronger, a bit braver, and a little more enthusiastic. I have to keep talking myself into it—don’t give up—remain calm— think positive thoughts. But each and every time it just knocks me on my ass. I feel absolutely broken. I’m not sure how many more times I can pick up the pieces, throw on my brave face, and just keep trying. I honestly just don’t know anymore. I know I’m strong, but this is verging on torturous. I create another deeper wound before the other even heals. There’s only one thing able to heal these kind of wounds, and that may never happen. I truly have to begin facing the demoralizing fact this might not happen for me. I might not be able to become a mom… ever.

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About Nicole

I have my BA in English Education and am a lover of the arts. I’m part of a small, but fiercely devoted (and annoyingly close) family– and wouldn’t change that for the world. I'm lucky in love with the love of my life and am a step-mom to his two beautiful girls. I’m also a Paleolithic eater, a lover of all things organic, whole, and natural.

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