IUI, FAIL!

Today we learned that our fourth IUI, or fertility treatment, didn't work.

In the grand scheme of things, I have this undercurrent of peace, which I am happy to find held on in the way I hoped it would.

Nonetheless, I have really been in mourning today. I can honestly say this experience lacks the intensity of my how I felt after my father's death, but its familiarity confirms it is definitely mourning.

The interesting thing about grief is that there are so few thoughts attached, at least the kind you can grab a hold of and study. I think ALL THE TIME. If I feel anything, I dissect it and evaluate it, but not today. I'm actually pretty bad at thinking today. Making decisions at the grocery store was like a game of "Would You Rather".

Well, ok. One exception. I wrote a poem in the post before this one which means I did "think" a little bit, but it just kicked in an hour ago. Prior to that, my mind has been mush.

I'm just sad and disappointed and my heart aches.

I think a large part of me felt that by working so hard on getting healthy over the past six months, I would have a much better chance of getting pregnant. Apparently not.

However, the six months of work on my overall health has helped me handle this failed attempt better. I didn't cry the 3 times before. I didn't tell anyone I was trying because I was afraid others' reactions would make me more vulnerable, and then I would have to feel everything I'm feeling now.

This time has been different, and although it appears as though I'm taking this round harder, I think I'm taking it in a more healthy way.

I will be sad for a bit, and then we will make a plan, but not a rushed plan. My life is still a good life, and we will take this on a step at a time.

Thanks for reading.

Much love, Friends.

Before I Formed You, I Knew You.

A blast of water was sent
Down your painted lips
And caught below
By tissues taped,
Dutifully changed
By a child much like you.

I have heard
There are cracks in the earth
And a floor of glass
Where we can stand
As if suspended
And be small together;
Although, I will be big enough.

There are many books
Preserving images
Of fascinating people
Waving
Clasping
Gesturing
With hands like yours
And your grandmother's
And mine.

There are lessons
Unnecessary to learn
Penance already paid.

Yet I simply cannot force you
To make the journey
From the wood floor
Where I brushed your plastic strands
Or the edge of a world wonder,

I cannot coerce you to exist
So that you may sleep against my chest
Or have my father's eyes,

Yet, before I formed you,
I knew you,

And our estrangement
Is often more than I can bear.