Do I need to write this post, or can you infer what has happened?
Our sixth and final cycle of IUI went smoothly (no injection issues, ultrasound-guided insemination, no tenaculum) but it wasn’t a success. I’m not pregnant… again. Instead, I have the somewhat dubious honour of being crowned officially infertile.
I have very mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I’m pleased to be moving on to IVF. Depending on which statistics you look at, it at least doubles our chances of becoming parents, and OH and I both have hope that it could actually work. She lost faith in IUI a long time ago, and I’d have been ready to stop after attempt #5, if it weren’t for the fact that one more failed cycle would qualify us for free IVF on the NHS. Even the ‘infertile’ label has come as something of a relief to me, as although you could argue our local NHS has set the barrier too low (are six IUIs really equivalent to a straight couple trying for a year?) it seems to give meaning to the devastating year of miscarriages and BFNs and a cancelled cycle that we’ve just been through.
On the other hand, not being able to have a child semi-naturally feels like a big loss. I’m grieving no longer being that girl who got pregnant first time (well, I still did, but…) I’m grieving a year of unsuccessful procedures and heartache. I’m grieving the loss of an easy and straightforward relationship with God: I cry every time I go to church now, sometimes able to hide it, sometimes not. I cried on Sunday because the hymn we were singing happened to contain the words ‘conceived’ and ‘period’… yes, really. And most of all, I grieve for my babies. Every time I see my youngest niece – who looks like me – she reminds me of what my own son or daughter would have been like. Of what should have happened.
I’m coping mostly by throwing myself into Plan B. I have books on IVF, a big long list of questions for our next appointment on 10 September, and I’ve started a healthier diet, cutting back on processed foods and simple carbs. Sometimes this gives me focus and drive but at other times I just need time and space to fall apart. I think in a way it’s harder for my OH, as there’s little she can do to prepare for IVF and she just feels powerless. I know some of you are lesbian couples who’ve experienced pregnancy loss or infertility – do you have any suggestions or know of any resources for the non-bio potential parent?