…that they, well she, will change her mind.
Otherwise I am literally sobbing in bed unable to move.
Please note that although I am a dramatic person. I NEVER EVER spend the day crying in bed. Ever.period.
Never have I been do devastated by any negative pregnancy test or donor let down, and we have had so so many.
This is not something I will ‘get over’. I mean, I will in terms of trying some other way if we need to, but never emotionally. And having the door shut on a bio sibling for my son is so incredibly shitty that I cannot imagine that anyone else can even imagine it. It is SO different from vials being recalled, or melting due to a bank power outage. This is a KD, the best one ever. This is the KD that doesn’t even feel like a KD. When me were using frozen sperm, I felt SAD that I would not be able to relate to anyone about having a KD! That is how great this situation is: I forget that it even exists. We just have a son who is related to both of us. We are lesbians with a kid who looks more like her than me. Everything he does is attributable, directly, to one of our families. And even though we were going to not use the option again…having it possibly, probably ripped away is rendering me completely unable to function. The intensity of that will fade, I know, but it creates this hole which will never ever go away or heal. I know myself. And I know this.
I am choosing to believe that they will handle whatever they need to handle to say yes to us. If I think about the other option…letting go completely, I start to bawl and need to hide in my room.
Without knowing exactly what is going on with UD and H, we cannot make a good choice, so we are skipping this month and will try to talk to them again in a few weeks. We are rescheduling the HSG for S, but we don’t want to have to do it. As strange as it may sound to you all, this decision (to use UD) felt full circle.right.happy. After the initial sadness about S missing out on pregnancy, we were happy. Happier than we have ever been about any option.
So I might be setting myself up for a giant kick in the ass. I know I am.
And I’ll deserve it.
I’ll deserve every minute of crying myself to sleep because I could be choosing to do that now and have it over with and move on. But I can’t. Neither can S. Part of me thinks I deserve the devastation anyway. Who was I to have the BALLS to believe that any option would create a lovely happy baby? Who am I do hope for a single second that this will turn out well? That we will get pregnant again? Why on earth, at this point, are we still even trying? I am glad that I have this blog, to prove to myself that I am not exaggerating the suck and the hell that our journey for baby #2 has been.