An excerpt from my book…The Baby Dream – Learning to Live with Infertility and Loss
The best analogy I can think of for IVF is a rollercoaster ride. It would compare to an emotional and physical rollercoaster ride of breathtaking ups and terrifying drops down. The highs make you want to scream with joy, and the lows make you just want to keep screaming and screaming. But you are so terrified no sound comes out of your mouth.
Not only were there all the hopes, fears, anticipations and dreams in your head to play with, but there were also the additional emotions of worthlessness, tiredness, and hormonal imbalances. These were side effects of the drugs and not your real emotions at all. As if the process was not already difficult enough, you had to have additional hormones injected into your body daily, just to push you over the edge.
As we began preparations for the third cycle of IVF, I felt a numbness to it all. Hope is a funny thing. I have found it comes and goes throughout the IVF process. As the cycles progressed without success, hope naturally dissipated. I was not as hopeful for round three as I was in the first round when I’d assumed it would all work and I would be pregnant by the end of the month. Hope was immensely important during an IVF cycle, but I wondered if I did not go into the process with the same unbridled hope of a small child awaiting Christmas, then I may not be as crushed if the IVF treatment did not take.
I honestly didn’t feel like this third cycle would work. Perhaps I did not allow myself this luxury, to protect myself. I followed all the instructions and nonchalantly inhaled my nasal spray and frequented my appointments. I had not had a say in the outcome so far, and I didn’t think it was up to me this time either. The universe would choose the next direction for me, it was my job to follow the path.
I did not believe getting emotionally involved in it all would increase my chances of a positive outcome. I was extremely involved the first and second time; saying my affirmations, meditating on it, placing fertility crystals on and around me, and the outcome was still bleak.
Of course, there was still a part of me buried deep within, somewhere, craving for this to work. A part of me still hoping against all hope that it would be successful. That part of me was hidden from my mind, afraid to be confident or excited. But it must have still been present, for without hope I would not have signed up for another round again.
For this round, I decided to leave it all in the hands of the universe. Sometimes, if we wish for something too much and cling to it too strongly, it eludes us. We grasp it so tightly and do not give it the freedom to be birthed into reality.