A Case of the Mean Reds

The holiday season is in full swing. Last minute gift shopping is rampant, Santa hats are everywhere, traffic is crazy, you get the picture.  Grey and I are laying low this year, as we are in the middle of the two week wait.  And for the past few days, we've done a fairly good job of distracting ourselves while embracing the holiday cheer.

Until today.

The day started innocently enough.  I had finished all my grading and submitted it while Grey was off getting a hair cut.  We went  out to run a couple of errands and decided to stop by a local park to walk along the beach of Puget Sound.  As I gazed out onto the water, I spoke out-loud to the embryos, promising them that if they decided to implant and hang out for the next 9 months that we would bring them back there and spend a day in the sand.

And instantly, upon saying those words, I got hit with this overwhelming feeling of dread and despair. And a singular feeling that it was all over.

Somehow, we made it off the beach before I broke down sobbing.  I don't remember how we got home.  All I know is that I somehow made it to the couch and cried myself to sleep.

Part of all this is due to recent bad news from other bloggers, watching them as they go from utter elation to absolute despair.  The other part is this ongoing belief that there is no way this will happen based on the simple fact that I don't deserve this.  That, since birth, I was destine for this misery.  Logically, I know this isn't true.  Yet after 2 years without a single positive result, it's hard to refute that thought.

Tonight, while families around the world gather to celebrate, I find myself on the couch shaking.  My body is sore from the last month and my heart is bleeding from yet another holiday without my children.  Yet, somehow, we're expected to trudge on, suck it up and put on a smile for all the world to see.  And if I don't, I'm immediately reminded how "lucky" I am.  I don't have cancer or some life-threatening disease. I have a warm home. I have food to eat. I should remember how blessed I am, right?

Yet, what people don't take into account is that there are far worse things in this world than death. And that life requires more than simply physical sustenance. Soul-sickness can kill too.

I'm struggling. I want to desperately to believe that there's still a chance for this cycle. And I'm so very tired of hitting this point in the 2 week wait where all I can do is cry.  Just once, I'd like that happy ending; some sort of miracle.