Saturday, October 29, 2011

More bad news today

Has been a busy two weeks since our visit to the Sunshine Clinic. I worked my way down our list of to-dos for them - requested reports for my past mammogram and pap, got additional bloodwork, got an annual exam, sorted out my out-of-town monitoring situation. On top of all that, has been super busy at work, including some travel this week. And somehow I had found my emotional equilibrium again, through some distance, denial, and distraction mostly. But just yesterday I looked up at the calendar and realized how much time had gone by, and how we hadn't heard anything yet. I sent an email last night to our nurse, outlining everything they should've received and asking when we should hear back about results. And I woke up this morning with an uneasy feeling in my stomach, starting to brace myself for getting more news.
  
We barely use our home phone, and the answering machine fills with marketing calls and wrong numbers so we pretty much ignore it. My husband happens to hit the play key this morning, and my heart stops as I hear our nurse relaying our results. (Which I still can't quite figure out, I didn't even think we gave it to them.) I scramble to grab a pen and have my husband replay it. Lots of numbers, lots of normals. Except one.
  
My AMH is less than 0.1. A year ago it was bad at 0.6, now it is practically non-existent.
  
I lose it. I fall to my knees and start sobbing. My husband is trying to figure out what I'm even upset about, but I can't stop crying. Like, wailing, hysterical sobbing. For a full 30 minutes I can't pull myself together. And all day long I keep losing it over and over again.
  
I feel more down and full of despair now than I did with our last pregnancy loss. The apparent sudden and drastic demise of my ovarian reserve leaves me breathless. Our situation is feeling terribly hopeless right now, and that I will never hold a biological child in my arms. I know there are other ways to build our family, but I just can't be comforted by that right now.
  
We have had some dark days in these past 3 years, but right now I am at a low that I haven't seen in a while.
  
It all just hurts so badly. I just can't seem to stop crying. 
  
[*Postscript: Wow, sorry to invite you all to my pity party. How pathetic. What can I say, it was a very very bad day for me, but I'm rebounding, as we always do...] 

16 comments:

  1. I hae cried those tears. I have felt that inability to breath because your world is closing around you. Just cry it out and be soft with yourself these next few days. give yourself time to process this info and plan your next attack. But, remember, these are just numbers. You don't know what will happen with IVF. You don't know how you'll respond. This isn't a death sentence for your journey to children. (Although, you may feel like it is a death sentence or wish it was.)

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm so sorry. I wish I had the words, but I hurt for you. Be strong, and know that sometimes being strong is crying your heart out.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm so sorry. I wish there was more to say because "it sucks" is getting old and feels so helpless. But I'm sorry. It sucks.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mrs. Brightside...thanks for stopping by my blog. I have been where you are today and it is absolutely awful...worse than any miscarriage at least for me to know that the such barriers such as low AMH scores creates a huge impass to a genetically related baby. Whatever you decide...just take all the time you need to process the information. Take care.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh Mrs. Brightside... my heart aches for you right now. I hope Mr. Brightside was able to hold you through some of those tears this morning, even if he didn't understand the cause. Thinking of you and sending much love your way.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Brightsides, I am thinking of you both as you deal with this news. It sucks and the dark clouds must seem like too much. I pray the sun will return for you soon.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I see all this too vividly. I can imagine how floored you are right now and how hopeless this news is. There just has to be something out there with hope. My heart is hurting for you today and wish beyond the stars that there is a silver lining somewhere, anywhere to shed light back into this black void of numbers and tests.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Oh hon, I'm so so sorry for the devastating news.

    ReplyDelete
  9. My sweet friend, my heart ached reading this post and knowing how much pain you are in.

    You are with the most amazing clinic in the entire country. If anyone can kick that AMH number's a@$, it's them. Lean on your wonderful hubs in the meantime. Sending so much love and peace and Zen your way. xoxoxo

    ReplyDelete
  10. First time commenting--I am so sorry to hear this. My heart aches for the pain you're feeling.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I am so sorry you are in such pain. I remember you often and pray your suffering can be lightened and that you find joy and peace.

    ReplyDelete
  12. I am so so incredibly sorry for you. Thinking of you and sending you hope and hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  13. I'm with missohkay -- I don't know what to say other than this sucks, and I'm so sorry, and I wish I could make it stop sucking.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I'm really really sorry about this. It just sucks. And it isn't fair. Thinking of you.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I'm so so sorry...I am sending you love and light.

    ReplyDelete
  16. This sucks so much, Mrs. B. I know I am late in commenting and I hope things are a little brighter.

    ReplyDelete