As this cycle seems to be winding down (P+13 and closing in on CD 40) I've been experiencing a little bit too much of these two feelings. This was our last medicated cycle before the surgery, our last chance, in a way. It was also my best cycle in a long time, except for a late peak. I'm not sure if I ovulated, I didn't feel like doing post peak testing (I'm getting a little tired of being poked and prodded), but there were some symptoms I experienced that made me think that I might have. Thanks to all of that, I started to let myself hope.
Now, I'll admit, I'm a realist bordering on pessimist, definitely not in the glass half full/ optimist camp. So for most of this IF journey my default has been hopelessness, because I've learned that hope can just hurt so much. I'm a math kind of person, and I've watched myself be on the wrong side of too many statistics. With all the time that has passed and all the treatments that have been ineffective, I know what the odds are and that they aren't in our favor (and now I want to watch hunger games, lol).
I mean, when we first started out, sure I thought it wouldn't take too long, but as the weeks, months, and eventually years flew by, I realized that wasn't going to happen, or at least not easily. As time went by, I started to talk about our potential future children as more of an "if" than a "when". And slowly even that has gotten too painful most of the time. I realized that our hopes and dreams of children seemed to become more of a fantasy than a possible reality. And I tried to just compartmentalize all of that away. I told (more like broke down to) the Hubs that it was too hard, that it hurt too much to be let down month after month. So he became our designated hoper, and I stayed cynical.
SoI knew the danger in letting myself hope this cycle. But for some reason I just couldn't help it. I don't know if it makes sense, but as much as it hurts to hope, it also hurts not to. As much as I can understand our chances in my head, my heart still wants the hopes and dreams. So I hoped. And like waters flowing through a broken dam, all the held back dreams came pouring in. It started with nurseries, after watching a favorite movie and thinking how cute a nursery with that theme would be. Soon enough I had a whole pinterest board of nursery ideas (secret of course, haha). Then I started to think about names, and how I would fit in the name of the saint whose novena I was praying. I planned how I would tell the Hubs, and then my parents, and how perfect it would be to tell the Hubs's parents when we visit them. I looked at cute little baby clothes online and dreamed of what outfits I could put a sweet little baby in. So yea, I went a little overboard. That's what happens when you don't let yourself hope for so long
Before charting I used to take pregnancy tests regularly. With crazy cycles ranging from twenty to sixty days or more, a monthly test was required to keep me sane. After I started charting, it was easier not to test, and it became extremely rare for me to do so. Actually I can only think of once or maybe twice that I have tested in the last year. That being said, this cycle I just couldn't wait. So P+11 and P+13(today) I tested. Of course they were negative, I should've known they would be, but it still hurt, just like all the times before. Crashing back to reality always hurts.
I don't know if I regret getting myself so caught up in my fantasy. Being hopeless is hard. Its hard to face day after day that our journey may never end in us having a child, to keep telling myself not to look at or think about baby things because they'll never be for me, that I just want to get all this medical treatment over with so I can know for sure that it will never happen. A lot of the times that is my goal, just go through all of this so I can finally know we don't have a chance, its so hard to let myself even think of the alternative.
Hoping feels like setting myself free. I can believe in possibilities, in miracles, in chances. I feel free for my spirit to soar, but the higher I soar, the further the fall. And when I come back, it makes me all the more bitter, and all the more I try not to again.
All of that is to say, I don't know what is better, and I don't know what attitude to take. I wish I could strike a balance, but I can't, I seem to take one extreme or the other. All I know is, this journey involves a lot of both of them. Maybe one day I'll figure it out?