Thursday, October 14, 2010

Undiagnosed

I was late this month. Late enough that some little embryos of hope started to develop. I paid no attention to this bit of hope. I kept it below the surface and did everything I could to just ignore it. I told myself to just wait. That's all that can be done anyway.

Five more days, I told myself. If nothing happens in five more days, then I'll start to wonder.

Five days went by.

Three more days. I won't think about it for three more days.

Three days went by.

And then a couple more.

I didn't say a thing to anyone. I barely even acknowledged that growing hope myself. There was a world of emotions brewing below the surface that I never fully explored. I got glimpses though...

Joy...at the thought of another baby.

Relief...at the thought of bringing another baby into our family without paying thousands and thousands of dollars.

Fear...that I would be shunned by the adoption community. That I would somehow be a hypocrite. That Jocelyn's birth mom would hate us. That someday, Jocelyn would hate us. And hate her sibling. And hate her birth parents. That our families would look at our children differently.

Trepidation...at the idea of pregnancy and childbirth.

Faith...that God had healed me.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and I told my best friend who lives in Seattle. I asked her not to make a big deal because it was probably nothing, because I couldn't deal with excitement and what-ifs and expectations. Her only words were that I was crazy for waiting and building walls. She suggested I take a test, because then I would know for sure. Because the hope would grow daily. Better to know sooner and deal with whatever fallout the news would bring.

I went home that night. I still had a pregnancy test from the days when we were actually trying. I would use it the next morning.

Laying in bed that night, fantasies swirled in my head. Telling Justin the good news. Seeing a dancing peanut shape on a sonogram. Would we want to know the gender? Announcing it in Relief Society. Darling maternitiy clothes. Photo sessions. Would I be brave enough to try to have a natural childbirth or would I go straight for the epidural?

The next morning, I peed on a stick.

Three minutes later, it unassumingly flashed the words Not Pregnant.

I threw the test and the box and the instructions away in the kitchen garbage where my husband wouldn't find them.

I texted Jamie and told her. We made a lunch date that we knew neither one of us could keep. I hate that we live so far apart.

An hour and a half later, I cried. Just a little. But I cried.

I had no idea this would still happen to me. Not that we do anything as a preventative measure, but I'd kind of given up on that whole pursuit.

I thought I was past this.
The problem with undiagnosed infertility is there is always a sliver of hope. There's no documented reason for the infertility. And maybe, just maybe, given the right circumstances under the right star signs, maybe pregnancy will happen.

It hurts as much as it ever has.

Touché, infertility. Touché.

13 comments:

Melissa said...

((((HUGS))))

Frederick Family said...

You have posted a lot this week and I am just reading it all. I'm teary from the "sisters" post. I am so happy to have two great sisters whom I love being with. I'm so sorry about the negative pregnancy test. Dumb, deceiving period!!!
I am so excited for you and proud of you for doing this 5K. Nobody fails in a run. If you met your goal to finish the race, then you have won. That is all it is about. I so wish I could run with you. Ellie and I are going on a run in the morning, we will think of you and send our extra running "chi" your way. XOXOXOXO

Liz Smith said...

I too am sending you lots of hugs.

:*(

Beckie said...

OOh not fun !! So So sorry! But you are strong!!! Strong enough to talk about it, while others -- hide -- hide it away!

Alicia said...

I'm so sorry. I wish that all the pain would be gone and that only happiness would touch your heart. Prayers and hugs for you...

Groff Family said...

I love you. So sorry.

Shellie said...

All my love :)

UK Yankee said...

Oh, I know that feeling, I know how that feels and it sucks worse than anything! You do whatever you have to do to cope with the feelings, give yourself a big break this week and allow yourself to heal a bit, ok! Big hugs to you from around the world!!

Just Us said...

Argh! I hate that feeling! I have never been superstitious, but ever since the infertility thing I have become extremely so. Every pregnancy test that I take, or every time I mention to my mom that I am late I think, "Am I jinxing this?" All I can say is it sucks, and I am so sorry you had to go through those feelings that again!

Melissa Giles said...

I hate periods. They ruin everything. I may not know what it feels like to be in your shoes, but I have peed on a stick which came back not pregnant before. So I agree that sucks! I cried too. I had that same hope and fantasies, and then in an instant they were all gone. We love you, and we are here for you.

Anonymous said...

It is a raw deal and as you know I do know somewhat how you feel. Never give up hope though. There is a great path being laid for you and Justin and it has already been started, especially with Joci. She would not have been in our lives if it weren't for infertility. Believe or not she will love her siblings no matter how they come to your family and we will love them as well. Joci will always hold a special place in all our hearts no matter what. Keep the faith as there is definitely a greater plan out there for your family. Think of how lucky you truly are - so many things to be thankful for and go ahead and grieve as that is part of healing.

Love Always,
Mom Z

Ashley said...

oh honey... just in reading what you were writing i was ready to cry with excitement for you and then i got to the end and cried anyways. true story, crying now.

i'm so sorry. i do know how badly this hurts and my heart is with you. love you love you love you.

rochelle said...

Oh Lara-I am so sorry! I couldn't have said it better myself. I can't even tell you ow many times I have been through the same thing. You don't want to admit it, but there is a little excitement-the "what if's". It would be a miracle. I wish I could give you a big hug, and we don't even really know each other. I don't know if it helps or not, but just know that there is someone else who has felt the EXACT same way. I can't say it ever gets easier. Infertility just stinks!

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