12DPO. Beta is tomorrow. I don’t even want to bother, to be honest. I just want to take a bunch of NyQuil or Trazodone and sleep the next couple weeks away.
I gained weight for this, did all the right things, avoided everything I’ve been told to (bye-bye to anything with caffeine, tuna, even anything with high fructose corn syrup since as I previously mentioned, there’s mercury in that), I’ve done practically nothing! I’ve laid around rather than run around because I didn’t want to disturb the embryos. I ate more than I really wanted to, didn’t clean when I was dying to, wasn’t going to risk chemicals. I didn’t even walk the dogs while Cody was at work. I let them out onto the porch, where they are trained that it’s okay to go. Cody’s been in charge of the litter box for months. Hell, I haven’t even done any sewing because that can require having to move around to cut out the pieces I need. I’ve been to the store on my own once and bought a Britax car seat. Otherwise my butt has been planted on the couch with my legs propped up rotting my brain with tv, the internet, and a few books, rather that actually accomplishing anything, drinking a gallon of milk every day or two, cutting out junk food (except for a couple days ago when I thought I would die without chocolate), no relaxing baths, no sex, nothing. I’ve avoided anything that can cause me stress as much as I possibly could, avoided certain websites, avoided most things on the news, pretty much sequestered myself from the world.
So why can’t I get a positive? Why, when I have been pregnant, did I miscarry? Three dead and gone in my life, two in December. I don’t understand. The cause of my infertility was a car accident rather than something caused by my body. We know that! I conceived at 18 when on the pill and while using a condom, diaphragm, and spermicide. Freak chance, but it happened. I was going to adopt out the baby, s the right thing since I knew I couldn’t properly care for one at that time, and ended up miscarrying. Hit by a car at 19 when I was a pedestrian. It’s like I’m being punished somehow for doing the RIGHT things.
Yet all the time people get pregnant while doing the wrong things, drinking, smoking, drugs. Among my 30-something cousins, there are 23 babies. 20 born to mothers under the age of 19 who were drug addicts at the time (still are), 2 born to a drinker who was under 21, and one born to a male cousin who didn’t start drinking until after his baby was born. Most of them have more than one. Two of my cousins have had 4 live births by 21, one having her first delivered by c-section at 7 months because the doctor felt her baby was born premature than living in a mother who was doing meth every single day. She had just turned 16. Some of my cousins’ babies are even half-siblings. Several of the children have been removed from their parents and I believe five have been adopted out by CPS due to neglect when the mothers showed no interest in straightening up. The other two were adopted by other relatives. The rest just haven’t had CPS involvement yet, in a town with far too many abused and neglected children and now enough CPS resources (this may be the only time I say CPS needs to be more involved in a town). How many of them to you think made it to high school? Two. Neither went to sophomore though. I’ve had nothing to do with any of these people in nearly six years. I don’t need to be associated with people of this sort. I have no family by choice, because it’s better for me to have no family that to be associated with them.
I’m 28. I’ve been drunk maybe three times, never smoked even one drag of a cigarette (though my parents smoked, I didn’t have a choice with the second-hand smoke and resent them for that), smoked pot a handful of times in my life, and never, EVER anything else. I’ve kept my life as straight and narrow as possible. I’ve worked regular jobs, including as an e-mail security analyst for a few years, started a couple businesses included an internet start-up that went under when a larger company sued us for our trademarks in their state and we couldn’t afford to fly to Virginia from California for court hearings, and restarted my dress-business after my e-mail security job was outsourced to some people in Russia I trained. Cody and I saw that as a positive in the end because it inspired me to start getting m old dress-making business back off the ground, which I do from home and would enable me to stay at home with our children and still bring in money to help with bills. I’m still a fathers’ rights advocate (face it, fathers do NOT have equal rights when it comes to children, and this is most detrimental to the children), and I educate myself on many topics. Who says a teacher is needed to learn when the student is willing and eager to study from books and research on one’s own? We’ve cut out extra expenses to save money for baby stuff and to be able to afford all the IVF co-pays. (I’d love to take even one day and go somewhere, but priorities!, so we stay in and watch movies every single night.) We moved from the townhouse we loved to a smaller apartment to be able to save more and are selling the convertible to pay IVF bills. We’ve delayed our wedding twice now to use those funds for the IVF bills. He’s worked his ass off to get promoted to get medical benefits with some IVF coverage, and he’s been brought to the attention of the district manager for the company he works at.
So where did WE go wrong that we’re the ones who haven’t been able to become parents while drug-addicts have no problem? Why am I, the one who took precautions when fertile and was going to adopt because I was mature enough to recognize my own inability to adequately raise a child, the one now unable to conceive when trying?
Cody is paying for this too. I don’t think it’s quite hit him though, to be completely honest. He’s far more optimistic and isn’t able to see that this probably isn’t going to work. He’s able to have children. I honestly believe that that has impacted his ability to see things as they are: bleak. I absolutely don’t believe he’s thinking about how he could leave me if he wanted and have a baby with someone else, but I do believe knowing he’s fertile has skewed his understanding of things. He has an option I don’t, even if he chooses not to use it.
I’m tired, mentally and emotionally exhausted, and I just can’t understand much of anything right now.