UFE = Unfertilised EggFE = Fertilised Egg
It's now coming up to six years since we started this journey of turning a UFE to a FE and today we learnt that our latest round of IVF treatment was unsuccessful.
Having a child is usually filled with anticipation, excitement and joy. I can't even remember the last time we felt any of that. For us the experience has been riddled with anxiety, fear and sadness.
I'm an optimist at heart but I'm also a realist. I know the odds, I know the statistics, I know the facts. I am very clear that after each unsuccessful round of treatment, as each year passes and my body gets older, the chances become smaller and smaller, and it just gets harder and harder.
Apparently miracles do happen. Frankly I'm not interested in anybody else's miracle. It's great for them but I've stopped believing in miracles until I can see, touch and feel my own. The term 'miracle' also gives it this mystical and magical quality. Like it's a fairytale that's all sweetness and light. Well if we do get a 'miracle' it is not a fairytale, it is not sweet, it is not light. The truth - it would have happened because we lived through the darkest, saddest and most difficult times, and it has come at the highest emotional, mental and physical cost.
People say "have faith" and just "believe". I say please have faith and believe for us because someone's got to. They tell us "it will happen". After all these years I wonder when they actually think it will because we're still waiting for it. Oh and if you're one of those who advocate "you're never given more than you can handle". Save it. Don't waste you're breath. Tell you what, let's swap places and you let us know how you 'handle' it.
When we are asked how we are going with all this, I am so weary of it all that I can't even manufacture a response that is anything other than the cold, hard, uncomfortable truth. We are incredibly tired. We are simply going through the motions with each round of IVF treatment. We are scraping the bottom of the barrel to find the strength and courage to keep going. We do not let ourselves grieve because we fear that we may never be able to recover. We do not have any expectations. We do not allow ourselves to hope because, as someone else wrote, hope can be a shitty thing to live on.
And this is what it's like to live with infertility in all its rawness and realness. Those who struggle with it learn how to hide the truth really well. We hide it because not everyone needs to know, not everyone should know and not everyone wants to know. So if you're looking for a heartwarming story you're not going to get it here. You'll have to read a work of fiction or watch a Hollywood movie. They're great for fairytales.