I Never Want to Forget

I’ve tried to write this post at least 1,234 different times {just kidding, more like 5 times}, but I keep typing, deleting, typing. I keep running different ways I could phrase what we’ve been through and then re-writing. It’s really hard to put these feelings into words. To accurately express how it really felt when what most consider a last ditch effort very largely failed, is difficult to articulate. Maybe it’s because I feel about 100 different emotions every day. Maybe it’s because I don’t really want to re-face how I felt.

At the same time, I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget the pain because it’s become a part of me. I don’t want to forget all we’ve been through because I know it’s going to make parenthood that much sweeter.

So here it goes. I’m going to give it one last try.

After we realized IVF failed, I crawled back into bed and cried. But it was more of a shocking cry.

Nope, see I have to start over again. It’s not coming out right.

Sigh. Try two.

I felt numb. I think we were in shock.
I felt sick. Physically sick. For days.
I rebelled. I stopped taking my vitamins, pills etc. Screw it. What’s the use.
I ditched the healthy foods. Cookie dough for dinner? Sure. Fries for lunch? Of course.
I cried when the coffee lady said, “No decaf, today?” {Don’t judge, I really like the local coffee lady.}
I cried when someone at work gave me money for Starbucks because I was so distraught that I needed it right then. In reality, I just needed to get out of there.
I cried when I drove alone in the car.
I cried when people sent flowers, gave cards, sent messages and checked in on me. {Don’t worry, this was a good cry.}
I kept the photo of our embryos on my screen saver and phone for two weeks. {To be honest, I still have them as my wallpaper, but not my lock screen.} I can’t bring myself to get rid of it quite yet.
I wasn’t surprised. You see, when you get negative after negative for almost two years, it seems like a distant dream to see a positive.
I realized how much of my crying I did on transfer day. Going from 15 to 2 embryos is not normal, and I knew that.
I missed Jordan. I needed to be with him. {If you know me or us, you know that’s not normal. We’re pretty independent and non PDA.}


Some days are better than others. Some days I feel fine, and like everything is going to be okay. And sometimes I feel tired. Tired of it all.

What did help, though, were the calls, texts, flowers, support, love, amazing {thoughtful, kind, overwhelming} gesture of the donations, which will help us do our next round of IVF sooner. After that, we felt much more at peace about the future of our family. So thank you.

For now, I’m going to eat the cookie dough. Drink wine. Continue to grieve. Be with family and friends. Be alone. Try new medicine. Heal my body a little. Take time to be a couple again.

We’re going to look forward, but never forget the past. I never want to forget my two babies {they were the most beautiful balls of cells I have ever seen, I mean, don’t you think they had my eyes? ;)}. I never want to forget that we were technically pregnant for two weeks. I was a Mom, and will be a Mom again soon. Jordan was a Dad, and will be a Dad again soon. We were parents. We are parents.


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