The past few days, I've become more and more aware of the hole that exists in me. The years of failure topped with loss has left me questioning the process and what I want out of it. Mainly this idea of continuing treatments vs trying another path. Grey and I talked at length about all of this the other night, both agreeing that the hardest thing about this journey is not knowing what the outcome will be.
Last Sunday Grey and I had a phone conference with Dr. Optimism. Following my meltdown in the WTF appointment, we all decided it would be best to have a couple of weeks off to allow me to reset. During that downtime, I had a chance to do some reading and some thinking. The hope was to find some information or formulate a hypothesis for what had happened in order to determine how best to proceed. The two weeks after this were spent looking for any new research indicating that we had missed something. The end result: nothing.
My REs are making the best decisions based on all the information they have. They are doing everything that is medically indicated, if not more. If I was losing these pregnancies later on, then APA panels and looking at clotting disorders would be indicated. But I'm losing everything around 5 weeks. There is nothing in the literature about this. And it's so frustrating because I think we're missing something, but the only way to get at it involves doing research, getting at the basic biology of implantation failure. It's amazing how little we know.
But another thing has emerged from all of this, which is that we are quickly approaching the end of this journey and coming to the crossroads for the next paths. Grey and I have both weighed our options, looking at living child-free, choosing surrogacy, or pursing adoption. We've talked about adoption extensively, but it's always been a "when we get there" kind of thing. On the radar, but distant. Since the events of this month, though, things have begun to change. Adoption is no longer distant. And with recent signs, it's almost like it's meant to be.
Two nights ago, I awoke crying from a dream. In the dream, both Grey and I were in a hospital, surrounded by cries of women giving birth. Initially I was panicked, wondering why we were in this place when it was clear I was not carrying a child. Grey silently hugged me and then whispered "turn around." When I did, I found a women in white holding a small bundle. She walked towards me, beaming the whole way, and placed the bundle in my arms. Though I couldn't make out the face, I knew that this was our child. And as I pressed this small creature close to my heart, I could feel the hole inside me begin to fill. That it didn't matter where this child came from, because I already was in love with him/her.
Waking up was torture.
As I sit here and write, I'm very aware of the hole that exists in me. How empty I feel. I'm also completely aware that I have zero faith that this next FET will work. But I also know that if we don't pursue this that we can never really close the door on this chapter and move forward. Because I no longer have this image of my children having Grey's eyes and my nose.