Another day, another failed cycle. I can’t say I am surprised – I had given in and taken a HPT yesterday so the beta hcg result was not entirely unexpected.
But that’s the thing about hope. Even after five botched cycles, even after all the heartbreak, even after all the misadventures, even after all the pee tests that stare blankly back at you, you still wonder about every twinge and overanalyse your aching boobs (thank you progesterone). You hold on to the idea that maybe, just maybe, the universe will smile on you this time – because you did everything you possibly could to win its favour. But then it doesn’t.
I’m not sure we have the resources – or the strength – to keep going. This has all taken such a massive toll – financially, physically, emotionally, and in a whole bunch of other ways I can’t even vocalise. I’m 41. Most of my friends are dealing with teen angst. Maybe that boat has sailed.
Where to from here? I’m not sure.
For now, I’m going to just have a cup of coffee or 12.
Over and out.