I'm not even sure what to write.
I am disappointed that this cycle--like the 13 that preceded it--was a failure, but not really all that surprised. Although I occasionally imagined that this would be the "magic bullet" for us and that I would be one of the lucky women who conceives from her first IUI (hey, SOMEONE must have success for the literature to quote a 20% success rate!), I really didn't believe it. I (rightly, as it turns out) attributed every "symptom" I had to progesterone gel side effects. (One silver lining: I can stop using that crap now!) I've seen lots of other BFNs, and I didn't find this one to be particularly upsetting just because we actually did intervention this cycle. . . . simply because I knew the odds were against success.
MM, on the other hand, has been pretty upset. Bless his heart, he is generally more sensitive than I. He was also more optimistic about this cycle. Never having taken any science courses in college (and never having taken the time to educate himself on the subject on his own), his thought was that we "put lots of sperm up there" and therefore would be sure to conceive. (In addition to the IUI, we had sex the night before, the night of, and twice the next day.)
I guess if I had to sum up my current feelings in one sentence, they would be "resigned" and "tired." Resigned to the fact that nothing we do seems to have any effect on our ability to get pregnant. Resigned to the fact that this hasn't happened for us even though we have done everything "right." Resigned to the idea that this is something that may never happen for us, regardless of what we try.
I'm physically tired because I woke up before 5:00 a.m. to pee and of course had to do my HPT then. Turning on the bathroom lights and testing my urine woke me up enough that it was hard to go back to sleep. Seeing another BFN didn't help either.
I'm also mentally tired. Tired of "trying" to get pregnant. I almost hesitate to write this on a blog where I know that many of the readers have been (or will go) through much more than we have. But I am tired of focusing on this. Tired of never seeing results. Tired of all the waiting: waiting for AF to arrive, waiting to ovulate, waiting to test, waiting in the RE's office for appointments. Tired of letting our "TTC journey" (Ha! I actually hate that term) consume so much of my energy. Tired of well-meaning advice from people who think they know what to do just because they managed to conceive when I have failed to do so.
I am feeling worn down by the uncertainty of not knowing whether we will ever succeed in conceiving a child of our own and the frustration of knowing that this is not a "goal" that we can "achieve" if only we work hard enough or do the right things. I've never been one to beat my head against a wall. Far from it: I am the type of person who generally decides that if something isn't coming easy, maybe it's time to re-evaluate whether it's really something that I want enough to pursue. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something?
Part of me wants to just stop thinking about this entirely and just let the chips fall where they may. I'm 38 and not close to menopause, as far as I know. I'm sure MM and I will continue having sex regularly--honestly, probably more regularly if we didn't "have to"--so it's not entirely impossible that we could conceive on our own before I reach menopause. If it happened, we could be pleasantly surprised.
But another part of me thinks that we should follow our doctor's recommendation and continue "trying." If our odds of conceiving on our own are low--and they must be, else we'd be pregnant by now--surely doing SOMETHING is raising those odds? Even if just a little bit? Right?
Anyway. . . . that's where I'm at. I am very much looking forward to my weekend, which is jam-packed with plans. . . . none of which include children.