This time around, our TWW ended early…only not in the way we hoped for. I started spotting yesterday. Ironically, I noticed this after laying a pregnancy test on my sink (I told you patience has never been a virtue of mine). Another wasted test. Another wasted month.
& here we are again. Back to square one.
While I was skeptical about the results of our second IUI, I started to feel somewhat hopeful somewhere in the middle. And that’s the really shitty part.
I am not typically a bitter person…but I have been ever since the sight of those brown/pink spots. Bitterness has remained to be an unwanted guest that’s eating away at my personal space. There it is, lounging around in my bathrobe, crowding into my leather chair at Starbucks. Leaving me with nothing but a sliver of a corner.
There’s a little boy I can’t get out of my head. He’ll probably never be erased from my memory-not completely. He was two with sandy blonde hair & loved cars. He was also accustomed to the word, “no,” & had just learned to put on his own sandals. He was the grandson of a client of mine, one of my last clients before I quit my job to go back to grad school. After two visits, he loved to see me coming & got increasingly upset the longer I was in the home because he was worried about me leaving. Eventually, he started telling me he was coming home with me. I’d had kids say this to me before, that is not what scorched my memory of this little boy. At first, I smiled & told him his grandma would miss him if he went home with me and didn’t think anything else of it…until he started following me to the door & outside to my car. The first time we got out there, he asked to see the inside of my car because he said it was, “cool.” I obliged his two year old wonder & was stunned when he jumped in the backseat & said we were ready to go. I stood outside bargaining with him for about 20 minutes to go back inside…..during this time, nobody seemed to notice he was gone. It’s also important to note how very close these people lived to a road. With that being said, obviously I wasn’t going to leave this toddler out there alone for a match of survival of the fittest. Finally, his grandmother’s boyfriend had noticed he was gone & came to get him out of my car. Having to physically pull him out. A tantrum followed. He followed me to my car & tried jumping in again before I closed the case and never saw him again. There are not many days that pass I do not think of this little boy.
It’s things like this that make me increasingly bitter about the world of infertility. I don’t understand why people who abuse & neglect children are able to pop them out so easily. I don’t understand how people who abuse drugs, live in filth, & cannot financially support children are the most fertile people in this world. The running joke at my agency was, “Five is the magic number!” as most of our clients had at least 5 children. Two of my clients actually had seven, I shit you not. One had lost custody of every.single.one.
A day before I saw our defeat of the month, I made a spur of the moment decision. I’d seen several people I follow on WordPress talk about a Hope Chest. On a random shopping trip, I passed the children’s book section. One of them was a Superman book that taught colors. I flipped it over & read 2.99 before dropping it into the buggy (what us Southern people call shopping carts). My husband loves superheros (classic nerd, sorry baby lol) & it was a small price to pay for a little taste of hope.
I’d been feeling extremely discouraged, not just with infertility-with life in general-& thought, what the heck? It was my moment of hope. & I needed it.
This may sound silly to some of you but yesterday, when getting out of my car at Walmart, I saw a shiny face up penny in a rain puddle. I’d heard a lot of people say a penny laying face up was a sign of good luck. My family use to say that it meant angels were watching over you. Regardless of the superstition, it gave me a moment of hope in semblance. It’s the shiny little spec of hope in our murky puddles of rain.