After the first unsuccesfull try to get pregnant with in vitro fertilisation, we tried it again a week ago. Without much further hormone therapy the doctor put one of the frozen embryos back in. Next week I would’ve gone to the blood test, to see if I am truly pregnant.
Since yesterday I have bleeding again, something I was afraid of since the moment they put it back. Every day, with the smallest sign that something was amiss, I would go to the bathroom and check. Is it bleeding? Is there even the smalles hint of red? Is there really nothing? And yesterday there was something. Bright red blood. Again.
I am sitting on the toilet, alone, mumbling “No, no, please no.” I almost want to put the blood back in, suck it up, make it stay inside. I start crying. “Why me, why again? What did I do wrong, what’s wrong with me? Can’t I have children? Will I ever have children? Am I not woman enough?”
A few minutes later I have myself under control enough to leave the toilet. I almost can’t stop the tears. What should I do? Where should I go? Who can help me? Andre. Andre. Andre.
I have to go to him, I have to tell him. I come to the hallway, a colleague sees me and holds the door open for me. She starts saying something and stops when she sees my eyes, she asks “What’s going on?”. I hug her and she knows what happened “Is it bleeding again?” “Yes.” Is all I can say, all I have to say. She tells me what I already know “Call Andre, tell him.”
Yes, Andre. Andre, Andre, Andre. I walk to the phone like a zombie, then down to the meeting rooms. I call him and tell him what has happened, I can’t even finish the sentence without crying. He says I should come home immediately, take a taxi. He will be there in an hour. I go to the receptionist. The lunch break started, everyone is coming down to eat. I order a taxi and my other friend/colleagues asks “What happened?” I tell her and I see the pain in her eyes, the pity. She doesn’t know what to say, I don’t know what to expect.
The next point on the agenda is telling my boss. I walk up like a robot. “Can I talk to you?” He makes me wait a minute and takes me to another office. I tell him what happened. “Shit” is his response “Go home, take care of yourself. Shit. That’s shit.” ‘Yes, it is’, I think and keep following auto pilot.
The colleague from earlier offers to drive me home. I cancel the taxi. She drives me and we talk about it. It’s good talking to a woman, to someone I don’t have to explain to how it feels. She hugs me before I leave the car “Take care”, she says. I wonder, what does that meant? Take care. What am I supposed to do? How shall I do it? I am home and I message my husband that I reached safely. I get changed and lie down in bed, then I look into thin air.
The tears are gone. I feel a dull pain in my lower back and stomach. Like a period. I feel weak, as if I ran a marathon or had a bad flu. My muskels are dead tired. My husband takes 45 minutes to come home. I can see that he hasn’t accepted it yet. He sits down next to me, hugs me. We cuddle. Where are the tears?
After a while he gets up and goes down to eat something. I think he wants to be alone for a while. I fall asleep. I don’t know how long I sleep. I just know that I don’t want to get up until all of this is done. I want to wake up and see no blood. I want to get up and be over it. I don’t want to feel it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to face it. But my body does not give me a choice to run away. I have to see, I have to deal with it. But it’s so had, so incredibly hard.
To all mothers who are tired of their child. To all mothers who think “I just want to have peace for 5 minutes”. To all mother, who are at the end of their wits. Those who wish they could shake their child. Think of me and all the women like me. Just one moment. Think of all the lost hope and the pain, that we suffer because we want that small cheeky brat.
We wish we had our own small monster, that drew on the wall or came into the house with dirty shoes. We want that little devil that gets into a fight and brings back bad grades. We want that annoying kid that asks every minute “Are we there yet?” “Can I have that?” “Only 5 minutes, please?”. We want that brat that screams at us “I hate you!”.
We want all that but we only get to see blood. We can’t touch anything. I know you love your children and when you bring them to bed tonight, give them an extra kiss. For all us mothers-not-to-be.
Edit: In the meantime I went to the blood test and it showed that I had not gotten pregnant, which means I had just gotten my period. I will keep the text as it is though, because it reflects my honest feelings at the time.