It’s been a week. And this week has been slow, and mellow. I’m lethargic, no energy or motivation to do… Anything. I’ve been sleeping more, and spending more time holding Zee, and just…
This is grief. There is this epic sense of loss and I recognise you, grief.
I’m okay to be sad. To take the time to sit and look at ultrasounds, to cry when I open the fridge because all my medication is still in the bottom draw, waiting for the next round.
I also found out that although we didn't get to egg collection, based on the number of follicles I had I'd be considered a poor responder. I think this is the most heartbreaking, because it proves the tests and diagnosis. There is no way to shy away from this - my ovarian reserve is diminished.
I'm okay to be sad, though. The world can wait, there is nothing wrong with taking a moment to be sad. It’s been a handful of days… Two since I was meant to do egg extraction, five since the ultrasound… it just seems like everyone is trying to hurry me along, distract me. Lala! Don’t worry about your feelings! Look at this thing, read this thing, eat this thing!
I want to slow down, not speed up. I don’t want to busy away my feelings or be distracted.
I opened a new instagram account (@sae.hopes) and joined a community of ladies in the same boat as me. They use all the acronyms (TTC, waiting for AF, CD2, starting FET, IUI, IVF, BFN… Sad face) and I’m learning them. It’s comforting, having a whole world of these people who are in the same space I am. Watching their heartbreak and longing and happiness all through the Instagram interface. I haven’t opened my old ig account since. It’s not the same.