Sometimes my blog posts rattle around in my head for days or weeks or even months while I figure out what I want to say or sort through my own confusing feelings. This one has definitely been rattling around for awhile; two months to be exact.
I was going to originally title this post, “I Want a Dead Baby”. I figured it was radical and would make people want to read the post, but most of all the title summed up how I felt. In the end I decided it was too morbid to assault people’s Google Readers with a “dead baby” title.
Two months ago, after IVF #4 failed, I could accept that I wasn’t going to have a real live baby, but I had a harder time accepting that I didn’t even get pregnant. I just wanted to be pregnant, even if it ended in miscarriage.
OK. I can hear a chorus of, “why why why” ringing through the internet right now. So I will answer.
I wanted to feel the joy of being pregnant. I wanted to see the look on my husband’s face when I told him the good news. I wanted to tell my family that I was pregnant. I wanted to dream and believe that this could really happen for me. Yes, I know that having a miscarriage would bring far greater pain than the pain of never getting pregnant to begin with. But I was willing to take on that pain just for a taste of the joy. I just wanted a nibble or a glimpse of what it would feel like if an IVF worked.
I don’t know how to grieve these series of failed IVFs. In my head I constantly have this conversation with the world:
World: Why are you so sad?
Me: Well, I tried to have a baby and it didn’t work out.
World: Is that all?
Me: I don’t think you understand. I really really tried to have a baby and it didn’t work out.
World: OK. I get it…so…why are you so sad?
Me: BECAUSE I PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO TRYING TO HAVE A BABY AND IT DIDN’T WORK OUT!!!
World: I think you need to get over this.
OK. I know that society does not do much to recognize the pain of a miscarriage (or even a still birth for that matter). But in my head there is something more tangible to grieve with a miscarriage. The pain is easier to explain. It seems people can understand the loss of a pregnancy more that the loss of something you never even had, even if they can’t truly empathize with either one.
Those were my very raw feelings at the time, I don’t want a dead baby anymore. In fact, for IVF #5 I definitely only want a live baby or no baby (but I do want to make it to transfer). For IVF #5 a dead baby would be a disaster. I have already given myself permission to stop doing IVFs if this one fails and a dead baby would seriously mess with that plan……….