the guilt

I’m having a hard time with guilt.  I pushed for this cycle.  It was a perfect-on-paper cycle.  Who doesn’t get a baby after 26 eggs fertilize and a transfer of two “perfect” blasts?

Me, that’s who.

And I didn’t have “just” a miscarriage.  I haven’t even begun to actually grieve the loss of the pregnancy; I don’t know that I ever will.  I’m too busy still figuring out what the hell happened to me.

I feel guilty because Mr. Hope is the one who kept saying that something we wouldn’t prepare for is what would go wrong.  Oh boy, was he right.

And now I can say it will never play out exactly the way it did ever again because I know I’ll go straight to the emergency room.  I suppose I learned that unwelcome lesson.  Who knew you could bleed to death from a miscarriage?  Not me.

And I feel guilty because, despite all that happened, I didn’t wake up the next day not wanting another.  How is that possible?

I try on the hats, the lives that will be with the various decisions.  I don’t know if I can live with any of them.  Which will yield the fewest regrets?  The least financial burden?  The lowest amount of physical danger?

I feel guilty for thinking of destroying them.  I feel guilty for knowing that letting them sit there endlessly will eat at me.  I feel guilty for thinking of transferring them.  I feel guilty that I know I can’t donate them to another couple.  They’re ours – if we were done, maybe other options would feel viable.  But we aren’t done.  Or are we?

I feel guilty that though she is enough, that somehow I still yearn for more than enough.

I feel guilty because Mr. Hope said “yes” when the therapist asked him if he felt like he was walking on eggshells around me.  I’ve tried so, so hard to make that not so.  But it still is.

I feel guilty that all I write right now is this drivel.  But I feel so guilty in real life that I’m trying to hide all the drivel, so what else could I possibly write about here but the drivel?

~ by Larisa on March 20, 2010.

10 Responses to “the guilt”

  1. Hey lady, I should have given you a real HUG yesterday. Shame on me. So here’s a virtual one. (hug).

  2. It seems like you are still in shock about what happened and the way it happened. I’m sure Mr. Hope is, too. Give yourself some time to figure everything out. You can’t possibly know right now what the right thing is for you to do. You need this time to heal, physically and emotionally.

    Thinking of you.

  3. Hope enlightenment comes soon. Btw… Still game.

  4. It’s understandable that you feel guilty, yet at the same time, the guilt is not wholly justified (if at all, but I can’t be the judge of that).

    Drivel? I disagree, you’re choosing to show how you feel – even if it isn’t rosy. Being allowed to show the good, bad and ugly of IF is part of the deal of this part of the blogosphere. Or in my opinion should be.

    Waking up the next day and still wanting another, that makes perfect sense to me. Honestly, I would be surprised if the desire had now magically vanished forever. Wouldn’t that suggest you had embarked on the attempt on a whim? It was everything but a whim, I remember you writing about weighing the pros and cons.

    It’s not a question of Babyhope not being enough, in my opinion. At least that’s not the terms in which I see it regarding Linnea. The desire to have a child is instinctive, though the decision to go for it is often padded by reason. People who say it is a lifestyle choice to have children are in my opinion largely mistaken.

    I want another, despite my great fortune of having one against the odds. If, for some reason that doesn’t happen, I will feel regret for the rest of my life. Perhaps not as intensely as nor, or not all the time, but there will be regret.
    I don’t know if trying 1, 2 or 3 more cycles will do more than put a dent into that regret, in the long run.

    Mr. Hope is of course right that you can’t prepare for what could go wrong. But that’s is true for life in general. Statistically, driving to work every day is probably more dangerous than doing another FET. Sure, statistics are little help in making decisions like the one you’re facing, but still.

    I think it’s only natural that you feel in turmoil, and will continue to feel like that for a while. You’ve escaped a tragedy, something like that will shake any person.

  5. I imagine this affects all aspects of your life, all relationships, all thoughts of the future for your family. It’s a difficult hand you’ve been dealt. I wish it could have been easier for you, Ms Hope.

    I don’t think that just because you got lucky enough to have Babyhope that you should try to quell all hopes and dreams to have another. There is no volume control for that kind of inner voice.

    But there is fear speaking, too, and fear screams, doesn’t it?
    And despite all you have been through, I imagine fear that you will never have another baby, a sibling for BabyHope, another life to nurture and support can be heard over all the noise.

    I hope you can be gentle with your tired heart. I hope the guilt can be acknowledged, then dismissed. It isn’t your fault. None of it. If it were, then this would be an entirely different blog.

    Thinking of you…

  6. All I can do is tell you that I am wrapping my arms around you in a virtual hug. I wish I could do more.

    Love and peace to you, sweetie.


  7. I don’t think Mr. Hope begrudges you your eggshells. It’s a fragile time for you, and I’m sure he loves you and your eggshells or whatever you happen to be at the moment because he loves *you*. I don’t know who in your situation wouldn’t feel fragile and tossed about. You two have made it through so much together, and I know you’ll make your way this time, even though you don’t know which finish line to aim for just yet.

    Still thinking of you. I’m very sorry the tissue culture didn’t bring more clarity.

  8. Please keep in touch via email. xo

  9. i can’t imagine what you are going through right now.
    take time to be gentle with yourself and take care of yourself.

    we will be here if you need us.


  10. Please accept my BIGGEST apologies–for whatever reason, my feeder was not giving me your updates–I feel awful for now saying something before now. I know you are taking a break, but please know you can reach me on twitter/email/blog–whatever. Thinking of you! xoxox

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