It has snowed a lot in the last few days. The dogs are thrilled. The husband, less so.

I still think the snow just makes everything look beautiful. The trees, the streets, the hills… everything so clean and white and pure. There’s a different kind of silence when the earth is coated with snow. It’s perfect.

Even the dogs look like perfect little angels.

In June of this year, the day that my neice was born a mere three months after Devin’s birth and death, I entered our local Hallmark store for the first time since I was pregnant. I was looking for a gift for my neice and knew I would find it there – it had lots of very cute, appropriate baby items. Items that mean something, not just the same old bear or rattle. I found what I was looking for, but instead of darting out of the store I found myself standing in front of the baby boy section. I touched the plush rattle I had seen months before, looked at the baby boy memory books and little blue piggy banks, tears welling up in my eyes as I struggled to stand against the wave of emotion within me. Amongst all of the items there was a soft blue taggies blanket, and my hand went to it of its own accord. I picked it up, thinking how perfect it was – no, would have been – for Devin. With a heavy sorrow I put it back and left.

A few days ago I was back in that store shopping for Christmas gifts, and again I found myself standing in front of the baby section. This time I didn’t cry. The blanket was still there. I picked it up again, considering. But… no. I put it back.

It turns out we had to go back to that store today to pick up one last gift. I ran to the back to grab the blanket, and turned to my husband who had walked up behind me. Apologetically I said, “I know it might be stupid, but I need this blanket.” So today I bought it… for Devin. Even though he’s not here. I’m here. And I need it.

See, Sheepie really likes it. ;)

As I started this entry I thought how very fitting the title was before I even knew it: this was a present for Devin… as a way of keeping him present in our lives. It’s not just that Devin was. He is, and always will be.

So the omnipresent question is… did you test? When are you testing? And my answer is… no. And I don’t know.

Originally I was going to do my typical testing every two days up until the beta. Given the issues with timing and everything I planened to take a test – knowing it wouldn’t be conclusive – today, Tuesday, and then test again on Thursday, Christmas day. For a while I leaned towards wanting the Christmas morning surprize test. With the news of the lost frosty I decided to guard my heart and test on Tuesday, preparing myself for the worst.

But I woke up today for work and only thought about testing for the briefest of moments. The thought was more an acknowledgement, Oh yeah, I was going to take a test today, but then I shrugged and the thought was gone. After learning of a work delay I went back to sleep without a problem. No wondering what the test would show, no itching to find out as soon as possible.

This is the first time in any of my cycles that I have ever felt this calm coming up to the end of the two week wait. I feel… resigned. I have absolutely no idea what the answer will be – it could go either way and I have no inclination to take a guess. I just feel like it’s going to be what it’s going to be, and either way it opens up a bunch of issues. In a way I feel safe right now, sitting in limbo. I know that I don’t know – I have a chance, but not a guarantee – and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

So Thursday, after Christmas dinner and family visits, I will take a test that will tell me if I am waiting for the next stims or the next ultrasound. Both kind of scare me. But at least the answer on Thursday will be pretty reliable. Whatever I am given that night is what I will have to come to terms with.

I am scared. I am sorrowful. I am hopeful.

I ask not for a positive, since that is beyond my control. I ask only that I have the serenity to accept the result.

Not pregnant.

Honestly I’m not surprized. I feel disappointed… so sad I won’t get my September birthday baby… but not in the least surprized. This whole cycle was a damn fuck-up. That embryo was in all likelihood just not the best quality. Or we fell on the wrong side of the 50-50 odds.

So we do it all again. And hope next time I don’t overstim.

Last night, after we got home, Den suggested I go pee on a test. I did. Instead of waiting alone in the bathroom this time I brought it downstairs, turned face-down, and waited five minutes. Den and I sat together as I turned it over. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest as I hoped and hoped I would see that magical second line.

But there was nothing there. We just sat in silence for a few moments, me tilting the test this way and that. Didn’t help. No line.

But there was still a thought of me that thought, maybe I didn’t wait long enough to pee. Maybe, because this was in the evening and not the morning, that it just wasn’t good enough. Maybe tomorrow morning…

So I slept. I woke up a half an hour before our alarm and snuck into the bathroom to test again. This time I was alone again, in the bathroom, staring at it as it developed – but this time my heart did not thud in my chest. I knew the answer already. It too was stark white except for the control line. Not pregnant. I went back to bed.

I was very matter-of-fact about it all day. Over the past week I’ve just had this sinking feeling (which in itself made me hopeful, like my mind and body were setting me up for a big bait-and-switch). This cycle was too much like our first one. The egg quality just wasn’t fantastic. Even though we got three mature eggs and two embryos this cycle, I really just couldn’t believe that they were good enough. Oh there were times when I really thought I was pregnant, sure. I sure as hell hoped so. But there were two reasons I was so calm, and one of them was that I really didn’t think it was going to be positive… and I could wait to see the negative. I hate seeing another negative test. Hate them.

The other reason I was so calm I figured out yesterday, Christmas Eve: I had pretty successfully managed to avoid accepting that it was Christmas and thus time for this cycle to end. Through putting up all the lights, shopping for gifts, baking, wrapping I have maintained a very good attitude. I did not cry about our loss at all (more than usual), I did not sit around picturing Devin and this Christmas. It was like I was functioning, but blissfully unaware in my deep subconcious.

All that changed Christmas Eve when the wrapping was done, we were dressed, and Den was asking me if I was ready to go to his dad’s. It hit me all at once: it really was Christmas. And I did not want it to be Christmas. I wanted to hit the fast forward button, or just put in another tape. Christmas without my son here is pointless and painful. I ended up curled in the bed sobbing in shallow near-hyperventillating breaths. Luckily the anxiety attack didn’t last very long. But no wonder I wasn’t thinking about testing: here I was, desperately hoping Christmas would just skip this year.

I did not cry again throughout it all. Even after the two pregnancy tests, even at family gatherings, even watching my neice open her gifts. I felt… calm. Resigned. I was right in one regard: the family gatherings were no worse than if I hadn’t tested. Today’s internal turmoil was about Devin, which eclipses pretty much any other complaint, big or small. It should not be Christmas without my son. It is not Christmas without my son. Not this year. This year was some sort of half-assed farce. My heart was nowhere close to being in it.

But as the day and evening wore on I felt myself getting more and more frustrated. More angry. Not only is my son not here to celebrate Christmas, but I’m not even pregnant again. Stillbirth and infertility. That angry, angry combination. It just gets me to the point of wanting to throw things. I am TIRED of hearing people getting pregnant. I am TIRED of assholes (friends of friends) having babies when they shouldn’t be. I am TIRED of constantly being the one shit on.

I finally broke down after we got home, after I sat with my laptop and recognized the anger and hurt that was bubbling up inside.

Mostly I’m angry that we have at least another two months to wait to hold our baby in our arms. At this stage pregnancy is sounding more like a chore, a huge wait that I would rather just skip to the end of. I did it, you know? I did all but the last month. I loved it, and I hope to do it – and really enjoy it – again someday… but right now I just want a baby. A real, live baby of our own, in our arms. So this IVF just tacks on another 2 months to the already long wait of pregnancy. That’s what I’m frustrated about. That’s what I’m angry about. I’m tired of waiting.

Last time the first try didn’t work. But the second one did. I can only hope this will continue to follow that pattern. This next cycle will be our heralding of the new year.

Please let 2009 be better. Please.

There are just some comments that annoy the hell out of me. They’re not things people say to be mean or petty. I’m pretty sure if I look into my past I’ve said something similar to someone without really thinking about it. They’re just those things that people say when they are trying to be encouraging.

One of the most damaging, I think, is the false, but very pervasive, belief that if you just believe hard enough, if you just think positively, what you want will happen. I hear this over and over again, from infertility to job searches to other life crises. The intended message is to stay positive and keep trying – which is usually perfectly good and acceptable. The unfortunate unintended message isn’t so good.

Unfortunately is that many things in life are simply out of our control. Thinking good thoughts will not get me pregnant. I can have all the HOPE and POSITIVE THINKING and PRAYERS that you want to throw at me, but I will still not get pregnant without IVF and some degree of luck. But I hear it over and over again, from “You’re stressing too much,” to “don’t overthink it,” to just general encouragement to stay positive during the cycle.

So what happens when it doesn’t work? Because, quite plainly, what I think does not affect the stims or the implantation – I’m sorry, but if they did I would have gotten pregnant with twins my first cycle when I was naive and excited and blissful, not with my second cycle when I was angry at the whole fucking world and didn’t believe I had a chance in hell of it working. The whole “if you believe, it will happen” mentality has a flip side: if it doesn’t work, you didn’t try hard enough. This pushes responsibility onto the patient. It creates guilt and self-doubt. Did I not relax enough? Did I have too many negative thoughts? Was it my fault that this didn’t work? Because that, effectively, is what we’re being told.

To me it’s like telling your kid that if they really believe hard enough they could fly like Peter Pan. Obviously this is false. No matter how much they believe or think good thoughts, if they jump off the roof they’re going to hurt themselves. And if they did that, would the adults sit around saying, “Well, you just didn’t relax enough, obviously.” What a complex that would give a child. And yet people do it to adults all the time.

I’m also starting to get very worn down by all the encouragement to “stay positive.” Sometimes it’s healthier to throw a pillow and cry and get angry. It’s as if the people saying these things don’t want you to grieve and just sit and feel fucking rotten for a little while. As if that is somehow harmful to our forward progress, instead of being completely NORMAL. (Disclaimer: I am not talking about the majority of blog comments. Mostly this is people I talk to in my daily life who really don’t “get” what I’m going through.)

Life isn’t always sunshine and roses. And life’s obstacles aren’t always surmountable. I’m a firm believer in being pro-active and involved… but there are some things I just can’t control, and to come to peace I have to accept that. There are a lot of variables and absolutely no guarantees.

::

At work I’m usually pretty good at staying focussed on what I’m doing, filtering out the noise and commotion around me. But there are times when that can be difficult – like when you notice a co-worker is dealing with an angry customer, it’s hard not to stretch your ears to catch it. And then there are times like today when some random comment just pierces my little bubble. “Expecting another! They announced it on Christmas – she said they have another present for us, but it won’t be here until July!” I froze, forgetting entirely what I was in the middle of counting out, as that comment, that concept, echoed in my ears. That was supposed to be me. I quickly shook myself out of it and continued with the customer I was helping, but I couldn’t get the words out of my head.

A lot of people like to summarize their year by month, remembering the little things that happened. My summary is a piece of shit.

The entire year pretty much came to a grinding halt when Devin died. I mean, for us that will always be the entirety of 2008: our son died, we held a funeral, and we tried to get back on our feet. That was it, the whole year. I was really hoping we could end the year on a good note, with a new pregnancy to celebrate, but apparently not. So 2008 will remain, forever more, the death of our son and our inability to get pregnant again.

But there were other craptastic things that happened this year.

My brother’s dog died of cancer at a very young 3 years old.

My MIL was diagnosed with cancer. At this point it appears they removed it all and she is in full remission, but of course she won’t get the final report on that until early 2009.

And most recently, my last living grandparent had a stroke the week before Christmas (was still in the hospital for Christmas). She does look to be recovering, however she is 94 years old so no one is really thinking positive if you know what I mean.

Of course there were good things that happened around us this year. The birth of our Neice. My brother getting a new pup. I got a new job with full IVF coverage.

But really, 2008 sucked monkey balls and I am really, REALLY looking forward to the new year. I need a blank slate. I know life doesn’t really work like that… there’s no such thing as starting over, you can’t change what happened. But I have hope that 2009 will bring with it new luck for us… a new outlook, and new hopes and dreams. Hopefully a new baby.

Please let 2009 be different. Please.

Last Christmas most of my gifts were centered around the baby. I got maternity clothes, a gift certificate to BRU… and some photo albums for all the photos I would soon be taking, given to me by my SIL. After Devin’s death the photo albums were put away, still in its packaging, untouched.

This Christmas I spent a portion of my day getting photos of my neice. I don’t do it too often – I don’t usually bring my big camera when going somewhere – but every few months I’ll take it and do a photoshoot with her. Today I got all the pics printed in duplicate – one for them, one for me. I sorted through them with a sort of pleased joy – pleased with what I had accomplished thorugh my photography, and joy at the beautiful little creature that is my neice.

Tonight, after some thought and internal debate, I pulled out those photo albums. They were put away for “later” – but then I thought, who knows when that will come? There will always be new photo albums. But right now I have photos to save and cherish. Not the ones I wanted, no… but something nonetheless. Something important.

My SIL’s mother talked to me many months ago, shortly after my neice’s birth, about how happy she was that SIL and I had maintained our relationship through all of this. She was right: I will always look at my neice and see Devin. There wasn’t much of a gap between the two events… we were pregnant together, had babies together. But only one of them is here in front of us. It is hard to look at BabyH and not see the two of them together.

In a way I am tremendously glad that she is here. I can’t explain it, but in being around BabyH, in celebrating and loving her, I feel that I am also celebrating and loving Devin. She was a baby in my arms when I desperately longed for one; she is photos in a photo album that would otherwise be empty.

I hope she grows up knowing how much her Auntie Nat loves her. I hope I will be as special to her as she is to me.

It is hard – it will always be hard. But it is good, too. I have the pictures to prove it.

I guess I really haven’t written much in here about how I’m doing.

Emotionally, I am… cranky. Bitchy. However you want to call it. I have not been a happy person, and I do not expect to be one for a while. I’m not like ranting and crying in public or anything, just very “get out of my space and leave me alone.” I want to talk to my good friends, but I don’t want to chit-chat about stupid shit with people I run into during the day. I don’t want to be in any crowds, I don’t want to have to socialise.

My period arrived in full force yesterday, sending me into another trip of the “blahs.” Thankfully this period, while heavy, has not included any cramping, for which I am very thankful.

I called and left a message for the IVF nurses, who called me back promptly. I just wanted her to pass on to my doctor that I’d like it if he could call me to talk about the next cycle. I really just want to know what the plan is an where we go from here and how soon we can get started…. and I’m not going to sit around for a month waiting for an appointment. Which is fine, he’ll call me… when he gets back from vacation next week. Sigh. So I have to wait another week for some idea of what we’re doing.

Which I’m mostly okay with. I’ve started the pill up for a down-regulation cycle, assuming that I’ll be heading straight into another cycle. My best guess is that he’ll want to lower my stims dosage in order to lower my risk of overstimming again, but go with the same basic protocol otherwise, including the 38 hour delay between trigger and retrieval.

And hell, so far I’ve been pretty right about everything so I’m just going to go by my own plans for now. We’re looking at an early February retrieval and transfer.