Monday, August 1, 2016

Cycle 1

Flowers from Aaron :) This color fits my blog theme so perfectly!
(Costco, can you believe it?!)
Sometimes you really, really think something is going to happen. You have this vague feeling that life is going to fall in line the way you want it to. It isn’t a feeling given to you by God, but more or less an excitement you convinced yourself is real. You plow through because the end state is happiness. The smile that comes easy, that reaches the corners of your eyes – that is genuine. It can be so easy to convince ourselves something is real that once you've convinced yourself, you start convincing others.

Then when everything you've worked out to be something greater turns out to be just another failed attempt, you slip a little further down that rope you are clinging to, further into hopelessness. And it’s that much harder to climb back up the next time.

That end state I’m referring to is pregnancy, my greatest idol, my biggest failure, and my ultimate cause of anxiety and sin.
That is what happened this cycle. Finally, after more than 50 days of injections, of doubling doses, of dealing with medicines and signs and pain and being uncomfortable, you take a quantitative hCG “beta” test, and it comes back negative. BFN (big fat negative) is how they refer to it in pregnancy forum world. I am not pregnant. The first round was a failure. It was so unexpectedly expected. Everything was so timed out and perfectly implemented by doctors and nurses, but it still didn't work. With all of those thoughts whirling through my head, I can't help but thinking, if it didn't happen this time, how is it going to happen the next? What can the doctors do differently? At want point did it fail? There are so many pieces of the puzzle that the doctors can’t pinpoint what to change in future cycles. What can I do differently? Was I too stressed? Too excited? What lesson am I being taught?

Have I elevated biological children above my Father?
At times, I’m sure I have. I don’t pray enough, I don’t meditate over scripture enough. I, at times, can’t believe that my God would move mountains for me. Me, who cares more about a biological child than advancing his kingdom. Me, who cares more about pregnancy than being patient and kind towards my husband. Me, who feels sad and disheartened instead of rejoicing with expectant mothers and newborns around me.

During my first cycle, I had 55+ injections, sometimes 2 a day. I had 75+ vials of medicine. I had 15 lab draws and 12 ultrasounds. That’s 60+ days of not being able to travel, 60+ days of turning down important work trips, 55 days worth of bruises and a sore stomach, 34 metro or car rides to Walter Reed (which equates to 21 hours of transportation), 48 hours of sick leave, 1 friend who came to an appointment with me, and one tired and worn out girl Cycle 1 lasted a total of 73 days. So much for the average 28 day cycle!
The day I was born without a functioning pituitary gland, I gave up a life of medical ease. The day Aaron chose to marry me, so did he.

Amazingly (and this is where I see God more than ever), I am looking forward to cycle number two. 

Thank you for reading, your comments, as always, are very much appreciated!
-R

2 comments:

  1. You are absolutely the bravest woman I have ever known!! I cannot begin to imagine going through all of this and you are taking it with stride and grace and so much composure (or so it seems!). I am in awe of you! Praying for you R :)

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  2. I LOVE these posts! You are an amazing writer and inspiring person. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and Struggles. I can't wait to read more.

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