Wednesday, February 3, 2010

My non-baby

The nurse called to report that I had not ovulated as of yesterday morning. Point to the clinic. It's almost like they know what they're doing. I will never use my monitor while on Clomid again, I SWEAR. She also reported that she'd made an error in scheduling the IUI, which should indeed have been set for Friday. Point to me. It's almost like I know what I'm doing.

Meanwhile, after several months of sleeping like the baby I'll never have, stress-induced insomnia has returned. It's not just the Clomid, since it started the moment I knew I'd be doing IUI this cycle. The thing that keeps me from falling asleep at night and awakens me at five in the morning is this: PBF will soon metamorphose into BFB, or Best Friend with Baby. I lie there in the dark and think, In a couple of weeks a moment will come when she goes into labor. Then I'll get an e-mail saying Jane X Y was born at time q and weighs n pounds. Mother and baby are doing well. Then my heart will explode and I will die

I have to reveal something. Although I think of myself as someone who has never been pregnant, in fact I have had a chemical pregnancy. I was out of town and separated from my pregnancy tests so by the time I tested (Sunday, July 26th) the line was so faint I knew nothing was going to come of it. It didn't really phase me, as that was back in the glory days when I thought my upcoming first appointment with the RE might actually fix something. So I never really felt sad about it...until now. 'Cause the thing is, though I didn't know it at the time, it had been about six weeks since PBF's daughter was conceived. For the briefest of moments, maybe only HOURS, we were pregnant together. As her delivery looms closer I've started thinking about how different things would have been if that semi-pregnancy had stuck. Oh Dear God, things would have been so different.

When I think about the losses some of you have experienced, I feel pitiful for even getting worked up about this. I don't have a due date to grieve over, I didn't have a miscarriage to endure. I'm not mourning the loss of a child so much as the loss of an alternate reality. And I've been doing that for a long time, so where is this fresh sorrow coming from? And how can I make it stop?


  1. You are sooooo not pitiful. I had a chemical and it hurt every bit as much as my miscarriages. Like you, it especially hurt in retrospect and when I considered what could have been. My best friend is also preggers and god that stings. No joint shopping for maternity clothes, complaining about our aches and pains, planning playdates together. A constant feeling of guilt over my disgruntlement and this terrible feeling of being left behind. I'm so very sorry. This limbo is shit. (Though, I AM glad that you haven't ovulated yet).

  2. So, this is never the good news it is intended to be,'s a REALLY good sign for your future success getting knocked up that you had a chemical pregnancy. Obviously, it would have been infinitely better had it been a bona fide pregnancy resulting in a take home baby, but it does mean that A) you can produce eggs capable of being fertilized and B) they can meet up with sperm and get the job done and C) your uterus is good real estate. The fact that it did not hang around could be due to a million random, purely developmental reasons. I'm sure this is cheering you right the fuck up, but I just thought you should be reminded that this is a sign your body knows what to do and can do it. The next time (because there WILL be a next time), those random things will not shake out the same way and you will be completely, totally, absolutely knocked up. The end.

    And yay for your IUI staying on track. Also good news!

  3. I'm with Adele. Nothing pitiful about it. A chemical pregnancy IS a loss.

    I'm in a similar boat: a good friend is pregnant and expecting the same month that I would have been expecting. I REALLY hope I'm well into a viable pregnancy by the time that baby arrives. Because, boy that'll hurt.

  4. I have never had a m/c or chemical pregnancy so I don't know what either feels like. But I can tell you that even THINKING about the reality I WISH was mine is enough to physically hurt my heart. So, I can only imagine how much worse it is to actually have a taste (or memory) so what that might feel like. ((hugs))

    In happier news, go YOU on the IUI!!!! Hopefully you'll get that BFP and won't even have to tempted by that fertility monitor again! :)

  5. You are heretoforth banned from the damn fertility monitor. :)

    The What-If game is a scorcher, for sure. I've never had a pregnancy that I knew of, not even of the chemical variety, but I am guilty of parallel-universe thinking on lotsa different levels. It's dangerous. First you're all daydreams and sighs, and next thing you know it you're biting back tears and thinking spiteful thoughts. Maybe that's just me. Anyway, it sucks.


  6. I have never seen the second line on a pregnancy test, but I know if I saw one and then it didn't end in a baby - no matter how early on the miscarriage was or nonviable or chemical or whatever - I would be devastated. A small being was growing in your body, no matter how short a time, and it is a valid thing to mourn it's loss and wonder what if...
    I'm glad you caught their mistake about the IUI scheduling!

  7. I'm glad the clinic didn't miss your ovulation. I also like the fact that you scored a point. Take that, doctors! Just keep moving forward. You'll get there one day. And who knows, with a couple weeks of pregnancy left and your upcoming IUI, maybe you and your friend will be pregnant at the same time again.

  8. I'm glad your IUI is on and this cycle is still a go. I'm really sorry about your fried's baby making an entrance any day now. I know that must hurt, a lot. I'm sorry for your loss too. =( I'm really hoping things turn up soon, like this cycle!

  9. It's so so hard when the friends we love have something we want so badly. I'm sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how much it hurt.
    Good news on the IUI, though. Wishing you the very best of luck.

  10. I know how it feels to be the only girl without a baby while everyone else has one. Trust me. It is normal and you shouldn't feel one bit guilty about it. I am glad your IUI is still on track. I agree with JB, you can and will get pregnant again. Your body knows what to do and will do it again. I am praying for a good IUI and a BFP soon to follow.

  11. I think the long litany of non-results is just a different kind of awful from other kinds of loss. No comparison needed. It's crushing.

    You are not pitiful at all. Not at all.
    You'll come through this.