False Confidence

I was so sure that the first round of IUI was going to work, that I never actually prepared for the possibility that it wouldn’t.

I had done some research on PCOS up to that point, and after seeing all of the symptoms, I was convinced that I didn’t have it nearly as bad as most other sufferers.  Sure, depression and weight were things that I had struggled with for years, but I had Metformin on my side now.

Metformin is a drug used to control blood sugar in diabetes patients.  It’s also used in conjunction to treat PCOS, as it helps to combat insulin resistance.  I immediately lost 15 pounds on Metformin, so I was feeling better than I had in a few years.  Even before I lost the weight, I wasn’t THAT overweight.  I had been flirting with the BMI charts line between overweight and obese for a few years, but if I ever stepped over the line into obesity, I was back in overweight land within a few days.  I was convinced that those 15 pounds would make the difference.  And losing the 15 pounds made me happier, so I felt like the depression was a bay.  Plus, as I stated in my previous post, I had just celebrated my first wedding anniversary.  The powers that be would have to reward us with a positive pregnancy test, right?

I treated the day of the test as if it was any other day.  I work up early, went in for the blood test and went to work.  I found it hard to concentrate as I waited for the call.  I wondered what I was going to do when I got confirmation that we were expecting.  When my phone rang, I hopped up and headed towards an empty office to answer the phone.

I knew it was negative the minute the nurse said my name.  There was just something about the tone of her voice.  Not quite pity, but not far from it.  I tried to hold back the tears as she told me to stop taking the estrogen and progesterone I had been prescribed to make sure my body was ready for a baby.  My voice started to crack with each confirmation I gave to all of the information she was giving me. “Okay. Okay. Okay.”  I was informed that I would most likely be getting my period shortly, and to call within the first three days of menstruation if we wanted to try IUI again.

I tried to compose myself so I could go back to work and finish out my day.  I sat back down at my desk, but the tears wouldn’t stop.  I looked up, hoping that nobody had noticed the complete wreck of a human I was at that moment.  My boss was in a meeting, and I didn’t want to interrupt it, but I also knew I couldn’t be there anymore.  I walked in on the meeting, and as my boss looked up, his face dropped.

“It didn’t work.  I have to go.  I can’t be here, ” was the last thing I said before I became completely inconsolable.  I gathered my things, called my husband on my way home and drank myself into an afternoon stupor.

I took the next day off to regroup.  It was a Friday, so I figured a nice three day weekend would be just what I needed to get my mind centered around trying again.  My husband and I decided that a second time couldn’t hurt.  I vowed to take even better care of myself for the second round.  Not a drop of alcohol, no caffeine.  Nothing that pregnant women are supposed to stray away from.  Surely, the first time was just a practice run.  The second time it would produce a positive pregnancy test.

It had to.


One thought on “False Confidence

  1. This breaks my heart. I don’t think there’s any other experience that can be compared to this – it’s hard to imagine what a feeling of heartbreak and loss you must’ve experienced for the hope of something to come. The challenge of managing expectations during this process seems as hard as the challenge of managing your physical, mental, and emotional health.


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