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The darkest days


October 2017, I’m not quite sure where to even begin. October was the start of what would be one of the most difficult times in my life, with this entire process and with life in general.

We found out early October that our second IUI worked! Blood work came back positive! It was a 5 on the scale, a scale to what, I’m not sure, but it was positive! The tears, the excitement, the joy, the wonder, the answer to our prayers. It had finally happened!

Two days later, I was back in to see where blood work fell on the scale. The nurse called later that day to inform me that it was at a 0. I wasn’t pregnant.  I was told it was a biochemical pregnancy, and we were no longer pregnant. I’m not sure I can put into words all the emotions I felt when I got that call. Heartache, sadness and devastation, are a few words that come to mind. It felt like my entire world had closed in on me.
                                                                                     
I started to pull myself out of the fog, and three days later, my best friend told me she was 8 weeks pregnant. She was aware of all that we had been going through, so I’m sure it was hard for her to tell me, especially face to face. For the rest of the evening, I had to keep it together. I don’t think she knew I wasn’t ok, and I would never want to make her feel bad about it, but hearing that news, broke me. It pushed me over the edge. I knew it was coming. I knew her and her husband were trying, I just wasn’t ready to hear that they were pregnant.

Fast forward to today, and I cannot wait to meet their little girl and am so excited for them! (I know what you’re thinking, what’s she going to think if she reads this? Well, she’s been my best friend for 12 years, and has been there since the beginning of it all, has read everything, and has been very supportive throughout everything!)

The next day was Sunday. Thank goodness, because I needed a day to wallow, and wallow I did. My husband and I went to breakfast the next morning and it took every, last, bit, of my energy to not have a complete melt down and keep it somewhat together. I’ve never been one to cry, but this process has made me so emotional, I’ve cried more in the last 2 plus years, than I have in my whole life. Then, the waiter came, and told me I couldn’t switch out fruit for bacon. I really needed that bacon. The tears that were swelling before, that I’d suppressed into a lump in my throat, began to fall. 

My husband, the great man that he is, ordered extra bacon with his breakfast and suggested we get it to go. I think at that point, people were staring and were beginning to think something was very wrong. In my eyes, we were already in public and I was already a mess, why not just stay and “enjoy” our breakfast. You don’t realize how much you’ve kept bottled in until you’re ready to strangle someone over bacon.

We ate our food quickly and went home, my husband went to work, and I began to sulk. That unstoppable, hyperventilating, red faced, makes your whole body sweat, sob. For the next few hours it was just me, my couch and my tears.

There was a bit of a pause in my sulking, when my mom called. She immediately knew something wasn’t right, and I began to sob once again. I had to explain to her all the events that happened during this roller coaster week. Being pregnant, not being pregnant, and finding out my best friend was. It was a lot to take in, a lot to deal with, in one week. 

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