Join the “What’s Going on in the Wonder Woman Writer’s World!” Newsletter

To Wallow or Not Wallow? That is the Question

There is a quote by the great philosopher, Homer Simpson, that I’ve always loved. So much so that I’ve mentioned it quite a few times on this blog. It goes like this, “You’ve tried and you failed. What’s the lesson? Never try.”

This quote always cracks me up. Do I completely agree with it? No, but it still makes me laugh every single time I hear it. I mean, let’s face it. We can all relate to that feeling, can’t we?

Yesterday, I began to notice that I was spotting. I hoped it was implantation bleeding but this morning, when the spotting became almost a whole sentence, I realized the Rudy, the lone embryo may have become Rudy, the no embryo so I called the nurse at the clinic.

My blood work was supposed to be on Friday, the 25th. When I explained to her what was going on, she advised me to take a home pregnancy test. If it was negative, she told me to come in tomorrow morning. If it was positive, she told me to just wait until Friday. So, I took a home test, and it was negative. I immediately wished that when I sent my husband to buy the test, I told him to pick up some maxi pads. Sh*t.

Now yes, I realize there is the slightest chance that the beta may show something but let’s face it, it’s very unlikely. And as I think about the events of the last few weeks and as I once again consider Homer’s words, I ask myself, “Should I have even bothered trying?” The answer, as annoyingly chipper as it is, is of course, yes.

When someone offers you a free IVF as part of a clinical trial and you’re a person who has both unexplained fertility issues as well as unexplained lack of savings, you take it. I don’t care if it’s someone on a street corner with a sign that says, “INVITRO – 5 Cents”, you smile and say, “Yes please!” I had to try it. I did the trial; I did my best and even though I have nothing to show for it other than some extra progesterone and a grainy picture of the embryo that couldn’t, I can still say I tried. It ain’t much but I’ll take it.

Next month, it’ll be officially two years that we’ve been working towards getting pregnant. We’ve never succeeded. Not once. The only positive pregnancy tests I’ve seen are the ones pregnant friends of mine have posted on Twitter or Facebook. This was our second IVF to fail despite having produced eleven eggs, using ICSY as well as assisted hatching and we even threw in the very best of intentions. But, as it stands now, it’s two years later and we’re still exactly where we started. It’s a hell of an annoying purgatory to be stuck in and what’s worse is it’s a purgatory you even get CHARGED to be stuck in. Really. WTF?

Now, I’m not going to lie: there have been a lot of tears in the last two days and I’m beyond frustrated with how this clinical trial went down. It was supposed to be a blessing: A free IVF that even covered freezing left over embryos. “How lucky are we to have the financial aspect removed PLUS it includes a back up plan!”, I thought. And then, to have produced so many more eggs than our first IVF! Things looked like they were finally falling into place.

But as you know, for reasons no one can explain (which has been a theme of my life lately), we only had one embryo. When even everyone at your fertility clinic is stunned at the results, you know it’s impressively bad and even though I always like impressing people, I prefer to do it in a more positive manner.

All bets were placed on the lone embryo. It only takes one! Everyone is rooting for him! Keep hope alive! But today, like clock work, Aunt Flo showed up and left me with a choice: I can be depressed and wallow in this, or I can choose to move forward. Don’t ask me how exactly but I’m forcing myself to move forward.

I’m upset and I plan to be upset for at least a little while. I’m going to have tequila and ice cream today (feel free to join me) and I’ll probably cry a little more but come tomorrow, I’m joining Weight Watchers again, I’ll make an appointment with the doctor, I’ll schedule a hair cut and I’ll look at my Savings Account and figure out a way to get at least $5000 more dollars without resorting to petty theft.

No one has told us we can’t have children and the last time I checked, I’m not dead so even though I’m down, I don’t yet consider myself out. I still have my sense of humor, I still have a great rack and I still have all of you.

And although I do feel like I’m in abusive relationship with hope, we are at least on speaking terms… so that’s something.

As always, I want to thank all of you for your emails, comments, Tweets, Facebook messages and texts. This has been very difficult but to know there are people out there that care and find your fertility issues as amusing as you do is a huge comfort. It also goes without saying that if any of you happen to have any extra hormones, money or babies lying around, I hope you’ll consider giving them to me.

Now… on to the next disaster…

86 thoughts on “To Wallow or Not Wallow? That is the Question”

  1. U know words fail me right now..unless it's to say that I am as disappointed..frustrated and sad as u r. Plus my heart just hurts for u.
    I am soooo sorry…that is really all I can say that makes any sense.
    Hug..and tears.

  2. so sorry for this,It sounds so similiar to my situation. Our failed IVF, only one embryo, 2 years of trying and not a one positive! so yes its shit alright. I really really hope you will be ok, for me it's 3 days since my negative, I now have my period and im still feeling low. Hoping it will all get better. time heals. I know everyone says that, but I guess its true. stay strong and dont give up.

  3. This made me laugh so hard I think I peed a little. Hubs and I love The Simpsons, and the "Never try" quote is one that we've used a lot around here lately! Big hugs and good for you for staying positive when I would be in bed with the covers pulled over my head. I don't know why Rudy didn't work out, but the thought of your brave little embryo still makes me smile. 🙂

  4. Oh my goodness it is so true that you still have your sense of humour. I am crying and laughing reading this post. I really want to see your great rack now! This is such a funny and beautiful and sad post and I'm so very sorry that Rudy didn't stay. Much love and hugs to you. xx

  5. Here from ICLW. I am so so sorry about this cycle 🙁 But I love your attitude. "No one has told us we can’t have children and the last time I checked, I’m not dead so even though I’m down, I don’t yet consider myself out." I love that line – i'll try and remember when I am myself wallowing. I wish you the best.

  6. I don't really know what else to say but sorry. I hate this war – because that's what it feels like to me. And after losing battle after battle it's really tough to keep on fighting. Infertility effing sucks! I wish there was much better news for you with this cycle (or even better it's just some spotting & the beta comes back great). Either way I'm here for you (((hugs)))

  7. Well, shit. I will hope that perhaps the beta will show some different results other than a BFN. I know at this point, you are ready for the BFN so that you can move on. I can't blame you. The disappointment and frustration make it so hard to keep focused on the fact that no one has told you that you CAN'T.
    Wallow. Drink. Hell, eat a whole cake if you like. And when you feel like picking yourself back up, do it.
    I admire you for your attitude, even in the face of such disappointment.

  8. I'm so sorry.

    I know how you feel. I was there last August. And reading your post brings all those emotions back up. I had to comment.

    Last August for me was exactly 2 years in the running, 5 IUI's and my first IVF failure. Trying to remain positive, but so broken. I accepted a government trial, meant we would have a year's worth of free IVF (I live in Europe), I was over the moon. The first IVF was the point of realization – just because I COULD do as many IVF rounds as my body could take in a year, didn't necessarily mean I COULD physically/mentally take it. Shattered.

    First time my optimism REALLY left me behind, first time I started reading up seriously about adoption, first time I told my friends I just couldn't hear them say "but it will happen" anymore…because truth for me was, it might not. And I needed to start to get my head around that. It was a lonely time.

    We took a break, and I'm happy to say that broken feeling does shift. I was scared it might not, really deeply worried I might not be strong enough after all. But it did, we were ready again. Like you said – the hope, somehow, always comes back. We're still young (I'm 34, that's young in Europe in baby making terms), we don't have anything medically wrong with us, it COULD happen to us too.

    My 2nd IVF was scheduled for January. A little scared, but determined to do it differently this time. To take the time to rest before the procedure, during the procedure, and not force myself back after the procedure. The results were much better. Rather than 8 eggs, I had 11. Rather than 5 fertilizing, 11 did. Rather than a sh*tty 5-cell, it was a 10. None frozen the first time, I'm still waiting to here about this time. But more importantly…this time it wasn't a low 50 hcg level (with spotting; which a week after resulted in what I guess must somehow still count as a miscarriage), but this time a good solid score. I'm apparently 4w5d pregnant, but waiting carefully to hear what the results of my 2nd blood test on Wednesday have to tell me.

    I'm not sure if telling you this now is what you want to hear. I know when I was there last time, I couldn't give a f*ck about someone else's (better) results and what they were going through…but I guess I'm sharing here for the first time to say: you have the best attitude to all of this than I have ever read in any other blogs, you have every right to cry, eat ice cream and take a few too many shots of tequila. But I can't wait to hear your good news. Because I just know it's coming. I'm no where near free-sailing myself, it's only the beginning and anything could happen. But it will. It's got to. It always does for us "nothing medically wrong" types. Eventually. It just does. All the blogs I could find, eventually get there – so that's proof enough, right?

    Chin up and sending you positive vibes from Europe.

  9. I love, love, love your positivity, though you may not feel like you're being positive. You've been through a shitload–no doubt about that–so I admire you so, so much for getting back up after you've been knocked the hell over.

    Sending you big hugs and a virtual shot of vodka your way, my friend. xoxo

  10. DAMMIT.
    Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
    You deserve your tequila and ice cream, woman. And I'm sure you do have a fabulous rack. The quote about being in an abusive relationship with hope made me laugh out loud. Holy crap, that feels so true sometimes. I'm glad you're on speaking terms. I'll resist the oh-so-patronizing "it will happen when it's supposed to" lecture that I am so deeply fond of – and instead tell you that I admire your optimism – and that, for tonight, the universe can suck it.
    Sending you lots of hugs. And virtual martinis.

  11. I'm so sorry it worked out this way. I'll give you the quote I blogged about right after my last mc: "You know what hope is? Hope is a bastard. Hope is a liar, a cheat and a tease." (Ben Folds). But nothing else is going to get us through – well, just hope, our husbands, and tequila. I'm glad you still feel like you've got a little hope even after the shitty tricks life is playing on you.

  12. So sorry to hear this. And I can so relate, my TTC#2 is on hold due to ins. changes & $. I also haven't been told that I CAN'T get pregnant, and my new R/E is so "kind" to just offer the whole ART menu, like $ falls out of my ears to try it all! TTC#1 (5 yrs ago) we only transferred 1 Embryo and now looking back I don't even know if it was a "quality" embryo, so my fear if/when we do another round is will I get the same results.
    I'm already hiding under the sheets, wallowing, considering an absence from blogging, FB, tweeting, about IF, had Pizza & too much wine, and this is just because of our "involuntary" IF break.
    My hats off to you, for your strength to post, sense of humor and moving forward.

    Take Care,
    The C's
    ICLW #161

  13. I am so sorry. I know how you feel about not knowing why it hasnt worked. Its so frustrating! Just bad luck is what my clinic always says to me!

    You sounds amazingly chipper and I am impressed that you are moving forward. Hoep is what keeps us trying, keeps us going. Without hope we have nothing.

    I really hope we get our BFP soon.
    Instead of petty theft, I have often though of kidnapping!! Lol!
    x

  14. I am sorry for your loss and can only hope that good things will come your way sometime soon. I am also rapidly approaching my two year TTC anniversary and am no farther along than I was in 2009. At some point, our luck just has to change and things will look up. At least that is what I keep telling myself!

  15. Wallowing is definitely a necessary part of the process. I'm so sorry that you're faced with it, though. This sucks donkey balls, sweetheart. But, again, I'm so proud of you for doing this trial! You are doing everything within your power to create your family and that really, truly means something.

    When you're ready for shopping and other indulgences, call me.

  16. I'm so sorry to hear your news hun, this journey stinks, but I do believe we will get there one day, hopefully one day very soon.
    Tequila and icecream, yum yum.

    Be good to yourself,
    Moon xx

  17. I am so sorry you have to say goodbye to Rudy. I was rooting for him. I think Christa has an excellent idea with the alcoholic ice cream. A little kalhua over a scoop perhaps? Although, tequila my alcohol of choice as well. I just want you to know, that the humor you manage through one of the toughest situations any of us can go through is an inspiration to us all.

  18. I sent you a tweet as well, but I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. You really are an inspiration, and I (although so sorry that you have to go through this) am thankful that I have had your blog to read while going through this. Infertility is just an awful thing to get through, and hurts more than most people realize, and you have such a great, funny outlook that has made it easier for so many people. I don't blame you one bit for the ice cream and tequila, I would be too! I hope you are feeling better soon, but take all the time to comfort yourself as well. I'm still praying your going to get your BFP soon, you so deserve it girl!

  19. I am so sorry it didn't work out for you.

    Infertility is such a horrible thing, with each passing month or each procedure we go on a really hard roller coaster ride.

    I hope and pray that in the near future you get off the ride with a baby in your arms.

    Enjoy your wallow!!

    ICLW
    #85

  20. I just wanted to say how sorry I am. 🙁 My failed IVF was the most heartbroken I think I've ever been. But yes, moving forward has been my best medicine (although the wine and whiskey sours really were a close second…)

  21. Oh Jay… I am so sorry to hear this and my heart is breaking for you. Wallowing can be therapeutic. Get a gallon of ice cream and hot fudge and go to town. I'm glad you have a plan moving forward; I think that will help the most. Please take care.

  22. Next month is our 2 year "anniversary" since we started TTC as well. I often think "if we got pregnant on the first try, we would have spent 2 Christmases with our child already." It is mindblowing how time just flies by and nothing changes.
    I am so sorry that you are having to deal with it. Saying it sucks isn't enough. But as I've been repeating to myself lately: "To be upset with what you don't have is to waste what you do have."
    Enjoy your ice cream and tequila. I'm going to have a glass of two of wine tonight!

  23. I am so sorry 🙁 Disappointments following an ART cycle is always so much harder especially when a 'storybook ending' can be played out like Rudy…."It also goes without saying that if any of you happen to have any extra hormones, money or babies lying around, I hope you’ll consider giving them to me"….I'll put an ad out for us both 🙂

  24. Jay, I am so very sorry to hear this news. You are not alone in your grief and pain. I am here for you whatever you need and happy to bring bloth alcohol and ice cream to your home or office, just say the word.
    Hang in there sweetie.

  25. That SUCKS. I am so sorry. I know the hope that it is implantation spotting rather than AF. Wallow to your fullest – you are allowed. The fact that you can keep your sense of humor through this is a true testament to your character. Thank you for being here for us. We are all here for you.

  26. Oh Jay, I am so sorry for you. I have been thinking about you a lot over the last few days (even though I only "know" you from the blog world.) Your story is so similar to mine (except I paid for both of my IVF cycles, so I guess you're one up there!) Anyway, the second cycle was even more devastating than the first one (even though I had a positive on the first and then a miscarriage or "chemical pregnancy" as the doctors so thoughtfully called it.) That second one was just horrific… it just felt like the death of hope. Infertility is a dark and lonely journey. But I do think that one thing you are really doing right is being open about it. I was not, and suffered more intensely without the support of my loved ones. I know your heart is hurting so badly right now and I wish there was some way I could help. Take care of yourself.

  27. I am so sorry. There are no words that will help, so I will not try. Your attitude seems great and remember it is okay to cry and even when you feel like you are over it, it is okay to have a "bad" day. I did the exact same trial in Ohio in October, and the doctors were all very upbeat and positive about my chances and then stunned when it did not work out. The doctor told me that although the study was great, it did not allow for individual treatment plans which was probably a factor in it failing. Although, I just believe that based on things that have happened in my life over the past few months it was not supposed to work out at that time.

    I am praying that your time will come soon and that you will be released from "purgatory" sooner rather than later. Take care and thank you so much for sharing your story. You are helping a lot of people through your blog.

  28. For everything you've been through, I'm always incredibly amazing by your attitude. I admire your strength, your humor, and your ability to pick up the pieces and just keep moving. I wish that this cycle didn't end the way it did. I wish you were shouting from the rooftops, "I'm pregnant, bitches!" (Because seriously, we all have visions of doing that.) But I have every confidence that you will reach your goal of becoming a mom. Because you're bad ass and you can do anything you put your mind to.

    Sending hugs and shots of Patron.

    <3

  29. Sh*t. I'm sorry it didn't work out. I love your plan of tequila and ice cream today, and tomorrow trying to turn things around. But even if you don't feel like it tomorrow, then that's okay, too.

  30. Stopping by for ICLW to share my sympathies that this cycle did not work. I will share in that ice cream and booze, mine will be a martini, i think, as I am wallowing in cd 1 as well. Cheers.

    I admire your humor and forward thinking and send you very best wishes for what comes next.

  31. I am so sorry; I can't imagine how much frustration and sadness you much be going through. But you are obviously a strong, strong woman and I believe you will get there. I'm amazed at your kick-ass attitude and your hopefulness. Keep it up!
    ICLW

  32. Hi Jay,

    I'm right here with you not wallowing. I just got my beta results back, BFN. It's weird, I haven't cried yet. Maybe it's because I had to be Ms. Second Grade Teacher all day. Maybe it's because I'm too damn pissed off that I have a yeast infection to boot. I'm sure this bottle of red wine I'm nursing will do the trick.

    Keep doing what you do. It's much appreciated. I look forward to your future blog posts.

    Kate

  33. Happy ICLW.

    Sending you lots and lots of hugs across the ocean. This journey can be so amazingly frustrating and I often wonder why we bother to keep trying when we keep getting knocked down. Obviously that end goal of holding our own little babies in our arms is enough to make us continue this battle…whether we really feel like it or not.

    Enjoy your icecrem and tequila. I indulged on the weekend in a hell of a lot of vodka jelly shots and lots of other drinks as well..it was a nice form of therapy and despite the hangover the next day, I did feel a little better.

    xx

  34. Oh no! Poor Rudy… I'm sure he gave it his best shot though. Internet hugs to you.

    I have to agree with all the other commenters about how great your writing is and I love that you can make jokes about situations like these and still see the bright side. IFers are gluttons for punishment is seems.

    Enjoy your awesome rack and alcohol and ice cream. *Note* A shot or 2 (or 3) of Frangelico is divine on top of ice cream, so you can save time and eat/get drunk at the same time.

    I unfortunately don't have any extra hormones or money laying around, but I have lots of hope and encouragement I can share!

  35. I know that "I'm sorry" doesn't cut it right now. It sucks. It's not fair. You deserve to have your miracle. I've been there and I feel your pain. You're allowed to wallow if you need to. Sending hugs.

  36. I'm so, so sorry that this one didn't work out.

    It sounds like you're in a good mindset right now… as good as it can be. You're really strong and you haven't lost hope and I admire the shit out of you for that. Seriously. Take care of yourself and enjoy the tequila.

  37. I'm so sorry Rudy was not the one. xox

    If you have an ice cream maker, there are ways to combine alcohol and ice cream. My chef friend makes an amazing booze filled assortment including one with beer, and one with whiskey.

  38. Here from ICLW. I'm so sorry about the loss of little Rudy. 🙁 I love your energy in this post even through your abusive relationship with hope (dang Hope gets around doesn't it?) and those tears. Much luck to you in your next steps…even if it means IVF will cost a wee bit more than 5 cents.

  39. oh i love homer. there are usually only 2 sets of things out of my dh's mouth: smart ass comments or simpsons quotes. i'm so sorry about your cycle. i hate how hard this is form some people. take time to be upset and do what you need to do to help yourself find some peace. stopping by from iclw (#47)

  40. Sorry that the cycle didnt work for you. So so wonderful that you still have your sense of humor intact. laughter can see us through the toughest of times, or so they say.

  41. I've been wallowing on your behalf as well– shedding tears, cursing fate. As it pours rain in NY, I'm not even going to look for the silver lining– though I can't help but note the massive love in these comments from others. My love to you and Sam, and my undying respect.

  42. Hi. I just discovered your blog and I wanted to say thank you…for sharing… and for making me laugh. It is a blessing to find blogs about fertility issues that can crack u up. Thanks again and "abusive relationship with hope" is about the best description for the past two years of my life that I have ever read…..
    http://ineverwantedkids.wordpress.com

  43. Thank you. I feel like I just got a hug from someone who knows how it is. Experiencing my 4th early pregnancy loss in 2 years, after 3-4 prior years of secondary infertility. (I am blessed to have my 9 year old child, and I know it and am grateful.) I turn 40 this year.

    Just, thank you for saying it all.

Leave a Comment

Scroll to Top