Another Ride

I would like to first thank you for all your encouraging words. We feel blessed to be surrounded by wonderful friends.

In my last post, I raved about the freedom of moving on. This week, I’ve had another roller coaster ride, a whirlwind of sort.

Well, As aunt irma hasn’t come around to visit (well, not really), I’d taken a (few) home pregnancy test(s). Has god finally heard the cries of my heart? Could he, in fact, want us to have a second child of our own?

To make a very long story short, this morning, I got a positive PT. I fell on my knees in disbelief sobbing like a toddler whose candy has just been taken away from him (sounds like someone I know). I took a picture of it on my phone to send to Alan. The shock in him! He didn’t know what to say and even didn’t know what it meant. I called my OB to make an appointment. It was just too, too good to be true. The OB said that they don’t need to see me until mid February, or late February rather. Are you mad?! I told them that I needed to see the doctor and after telling them my story, they agreed that they needed to see me…in an hour. Since I’ve lived a life of luxury this month (meaning I haven’t been able to get out of my pajamas until around 10 am – no haters please), I had to rush out. They wanted me in by 10 am.

Alan and I came in. We had a scan, no sac. But she poked around a whole lot anyway and took a few snapshots and some measurements.

After waiting for what felt like a million hours, the doctor finally came in to discuss my situation. She was pretty positive as my linings looked pretty good, but that she’d order a blood test just in case I need supplementing. Gosh, we were pretty knackered by this point, still not letting ourselves excited about the whole thing. I don’t really have any symptoms except maybe for being a basket case about it, letting tears out occasionally; I cried in the car, in the bathroom, in the garage, anywhere really where I felt no one was looking. The doctor was very empathetic and sympathetic that she’d rushed my results informing me that I’ll get a call from her later this afternoon. Before we said our goodbyes, she checked whether we had progesterone at home, should she give us prescription for pills… No doctor, we have vials of them. Anything to do with fertility, we have. We haven’t had the heart to get rid of them yet hoping that they’d turn back into cash. Nothing more than what we’d paid.

After waiting for another million years (I tell you, my hair might have turned grey by the time I got the phone call), finally, at 5.15 pm, my phone rang. We skipped all the pleasantries and she went right to it. 

“It’s negative honey, I’m sorry.”

What can I say? What should I say? A whirlpool of emotions and words had gone through my head. One strongest one was, “Why the hell would god want to play with my emotion like this?” Then I immediately remembered that Alan also knows about it and he’d probably not been able to do a thing at work the entire day. I felt so bad for telling him about it, giving him hope only for me to take it back.

Yes, I felt anger…towards god for playing with my emotions…towards me for letting myself go through this again after all that I’ve been through…towards the PT company for creating such inaccurate device (it isn’t really, but I need to be angry at someone or something). I’m confused and disappointed. I don’t understand what god is doing and I’m feeling defeated.