Are You There God? It’s Me, Angela…

Hysteroscopy #4 was Monday.  I know in some cases no news = good news, but that is not the case.  I wish I had better news to share.  We prayed and prayed for it.  We have waited almost a year from our last transfer for it.  However, it didn’t come.  And I can’t say I am surprised….What’s another major disappointment at this point?

Our upcoming October FET is off.  Cancelled.  Done.

During the hysteroscopy, my RE found that the mass that was surgically removed back in May returned.  The “something” on the ultrasounds really was “something” after all.  It only took 3 months for that f’n monster to grow back ( you will have to excuse my language).

I woke up from the twilight anesthesia with tears rolling down my face.  Not from any physical pain—just mental.  It reminded me of the feeling I had when I awoke from one of my D & C’s…EMPTY.  I could hear bits and pieces of the “oh no’s, “dammits,” and “shits,” from the staff during the procedure, and in my half alive state, I knew all too well what it meant.

I recall pushing the nurse off of me when she kindly tried to help me get dressed..hell, this wasn’t my first rodeo—I could do it myself. They showed me images and comparisons, blah, blah, blah.  They encouraged me not to give up hope…again, blah, blah, blah.

My RE said she wanted to consult with the 4 other specialists at her practice about what to do at this point, which brings us to today.  Their “meeting of the minds” took place this morning.  I sat by my phone waiting all day for the call to come in.  For some STUPID reason, up until today, we believed it might be a possibility that we could still proceed with our FET in October. It hadn’t been indefinitely ruled out on Monday…we had left it all hanging on the professional consensus today.

The call finally came around 4 p.m.  The consensus was that not ONE doctor thought we should move forward.  In fact, we won’t be moving forward for quite some time.  In fact, we most likely won’t even be bringing a baby home with us in 2016 at all.  If ever.

The recommendation is for an MRI of the mass next.  This has to be done by some specialist at some hospital.  My RE gave me all the details, none of which I remember any of tonight as I sit here and type this. Originally, I intended on writing things down and asking things during our call today, but none of that happened.  I dropped my pen, listened, and put my hands on my head as I blankly stared into space.

The MRI will rule out a few things (of which I don’t even give a damn enough to get into right now) and depending on the results, the plan of action would go 1 of 3 ways:

  1. Have another operation —looking at springtime for a possible transfer date with this scenario
  2. Lupron suppression for at least 3 months- looking at springtime for a possible transfer date
  3. Gestational Carrier

I guess it was only a matter of time before #3 was thrown directly on the table.  Because at this point, we all know options 1 and 2 may very well fail.  Shit, option 1 already did fail once.  

When she told me I may never have the opportunity to feel life inside me again, I felt all the blood rush through my body. She could barely get the words gestational carrier out…I was pretty much like “go ahead, give it to me.”  I can’t describe how I know I was pulling it out of my RE…I just do.  After 2 years of being in direct contact, I know her and she knows me.  She kept saying how sorry she was.  Yea, us too.  No girl grows up dreaming of IVF, miscarrying, or let alone, a surrogate.

I think this might be one of the hardest posts I have written.  Before writing this, I cried and yelled at my mom on my drive home.  I should add that I only did all this because I know I can let it all out with her.  She tried to tell me it’s not the end of the road, it’s not over, she loved me, and all that.  She tried to support me the best she could.  I mean, really, at this point, who knows what to say to us anymore.  I get it.

I don’t want to hear it’s all okay, because in our world it is not all okay.  There are no rainbows here today, folks.  And yes, you may tell me they are on the way, to keep my faith, and hope…but that doesn’t change today.  Another let down.  Time keeps on passing us by.  It’s been a LONG road and I would like to think we have done OK being patient on it…so I must ask…are you there, God??? Remember me?!?

So, tonight, my husband and I just laid in the dark crying.  All too familiar.  We talked about how we let our hopes get up again, how we feel so lost.  Yet again…  1 step forward…20 back.  There was a lot of silence.  What can we say? I feel like this may be our biggest crossroad yet.  We talked about giving up on all of it.  Who knows.  The conversation ended with how maybe we need to get the hell out of here and go away, from everyone, just the 2 of us.

68 thoughts on “Are You There God? It’s Me, Angela…

  1. My heart just sank. I am so sorry. Do it. Just go somewhere. Just the two of you. There are not many times I encourage to run away from life to escape it all, but in this scenario and situation, it sounds like a fabulous idea. Hugs to you.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You are so brave and strong for sharing this- with the wound still so fresh.

    I agree – do it. Anything I can do to help, let me know. You have an amazing team, they will support you. Get away from it all and enjoy each other and heal.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Such cruelty. All of this is just hell and has not an ounce of fairness to it. You have tried and hoped so hard. I am so sorry. I hope you are kind to yourself and you and your husband can escape. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I’m so sorry!!! I wish I had words of encouragement. Plain and simple it totally sucks!!!

    I’m going for my first hysteroscopy on Wednesday in hopes of figuring out my RPL.

    I will continue praying for you guys

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I wish I had the perfect words to comfort you during this difficult journey. You are truly an amazing woman. I admire your strength and will continue to pray for you and Shane daily. Please know I am here if you need anything. (((((( hugs))))))

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Seriously Universe , fuck off her case. Stop messing up with her and let her live and dream. I am so angry for you, I cannot believe how unfair this is. I wish I could offer some words to consol but I know right now nothing is going to help. Just know I m there on your side abiding with you both.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. My heart sank for you. I’m so sorry. And I agree, get away, take some time for just the 2 of you to recoup and just be together. There is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we just need to step away for a minute and regroup.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. You got dealt a pretty shitty hand my friend. So many of us had hoped and prayed that the something was nothing. There are no words to express how sorry I am for you, or how much I wish that something would swing in your favor. Life isn’t fair!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I wish I could say something that would make you feel better. What a cruel blow after all those cruel blows you’ve already had. It’s so unfair. Really feeling for you x

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I am so sorry. The whole time I was reading that I just got so angry for you. I hope all options are still on the table for you and in time you can come to peace with whatever you decide. God be with you!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I am so, so sorry. There is nothing to say to make it better. I remember that empty feeling after a hysteroscopy that brings back so many memories of past D&C’s. It is the worst. Hope you can get away and recharge at least for a few days.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I’m very sorry hun. What is with our sh!tty bad luck? As you know I am in a dark spot now too and I know all too well how you feel about talking about giving up and feeling lost and left behind. It stinks. I know nothing I say can make you feel better but I’ll be wishing you strength and peace…

    Liked by 1 person

  13. My heart is heavy reading this. I am so sorry you have to go through this. Sending you strength and peace!! Tomorrow put one foot in front of another and hopefully with time the path you need to walk will show itself. Hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

  14. My heart broke into a thousand pieces while reading your post. You are so brave for being so open and willing to share your feelings. Take time away with your husband and loved ones. My prayers will be with you.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. I am so, so sorry. Your pain is palpable here, and my heart just aches for you. What a cruel world this is sometimes. Just WTF. Like Mamajo says, there is not one speck of fairness here. I think the idea of getting away sounds great. Sending so much love your way. Please try to be kind to yourself. I will keep hoping for you right now, even if you can’t. Xoxo.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Angela… I’m so sorry to hear this. It sucks so much and like everyone has said, it’s so unfair. Life is unfair! I know it’s not the same but I think I can relate a little bit in that they found a fibroid smack bang in the middle of my uterus during the miscarriage scans. I then had to go on a waiting list to see a gynaecologist before we could even consider IVF round 2. This was at the beginning of July, and I only just saw a gynaecologist today – because I went private. My NHS appointment is in October! The only way I’ve dealt with this is to try and focus on something else – in our case, our much wanted US trip. I’ve been planning it and looking forward to it and getting all excited about it. Just after the miscarriage we went away for a long weekend with Dog and just got away from it all. And I’ve been avoiding a lot of social stuff, just taking it easy.

    Take all the time you need… I try not to focus on the waiting and wanting but I know it’s difficult. (I am quite good at denial and shifting my mind to other stuff but even I find it hard when it’s so in my face.) I hope you can try and find something interim to enjoy and look forward to. It is so difficult, and I really feel for you. Sending you hugs xx

    Liked by 1 person

  17. No, no, no! Angela. 😦 I’m so sorry. You must be reeling from this news. Not at all what you wanted to hear. How frustrating. My heart breaks for you. I wish I could say something that would help you heal. I’m sure you feel like you’re at the end of your rope with all you’ve been through. For now, just tie a knot in that rope and hang on. Huge hugs, my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. I’m so sorry. I read this and am just trying not to cry as eye daycare kids eat breakfast. It’s jowly working, I have tears rolling down my face. Nothing I can say is going to help, I know that. I can’t imagine the pain you are going through at this moment. Please know that I’m praying for you and sending you lots of love and hugs, my friend!

    Liked by 1 person

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