Finally ready to tell people

I have a secret.  And I don't know how to tell people.

I know the results.  I've known for over a week. 

And it sucks because I feel like I've been telling this story through my blog.  But my story doesn't end with happily ever after.

We got the lab results back last week.

And I'm not pregnant.

So.... I don't really know where to go from here.  

Obviously, we're beyond disappointed.  We're heart-broken.  We're trying to work through the various stages of grief.  We're trying to process these raging, raw emotions which are triggered so suddenly. Obviously, this was the Lord's will, and so I just have to trust that He has something different in mind for me.  And I get that. But that doesn't change the way I feel.  I go back and forth between feeling okay about it, and definitely NOT being okay with it.  So if you ask me how I'm doing, it depends.  It varies by the minute.

We were suppose to find out last Tuesday.  I went in for blood work at 10 am.  And they were going to call with the results in the afternoon.  My plan was to let it go to voicemail, so my husband and I could find out the results together that evening.  (After he got home from work.)   I originally had planned on taking the whole day off from work.  But then I realized I couldn't just sit at home and wait to get that phone call, and then wait all day until hubby came home.  I would go nuts.  So I went back to work to distract me.  I came home around 5:30 pm, and really only felt anxious from 5:30-7:30 pm when hubby came home.  We went into the bedroom, knelt down at the bed, and my husband said a prayer.  It was very sweet, and very spiritual.  And then we listened the voicemail on speaker phone.  Which said:  "Hi, this is Daina from Dr. Craig's office, please give us a call when you get this message."   ...... So....  no results.  I was actually okay with that.  As much as I wanted to find out, I kind of didn't want to find out.  There was something so permanent about knowing for sure.  I got to believe that I could be pregnant for another day.

Wednesday, I contacted the doctor's office and asked them to leave me the results on the voicemail.  I went into work, and when I came home, hubby and I repeated the scenario.  We went into the bedroom, knelt down to say a prayer, and listened to the voicemail on speaker phone.  They got the lab results back, and unfortunately, they came back negative.  I was not pregnant.  I looked at Devon, and started tearing up.  I said, "Well, at least we tried.  Now we know for sure."   But obviously that wasn't the answer I wanted.  Or that I even understood.  

At some point, I had started believing this was going to work.  In November/ December, I had had the attitude of we're just doing this to see what happens- if I can get pregnant.  (Since nothing else had been working)    In January, my attitude had shifted.  I really believed that I really was going to get pregnant.  As my friend put it, I was "cautiously optimistic".  I had started looking at different ways to announce my pregnancy on Pinterest.  I had started cleaning out the room we were going to use as the nursery.    I jumped the gun, and had even gotten a used crib, which I now is a painful reminded of what I don't have.

I curled up on the bed in fetal position.  Hubby curled up behind me.  We were both kind of in shock.  All of that work going through In Vitro... and it didn't work.  My body wasn't pregnant.  And we didn't have any more embryos to try again.  That was our one chance.  And it didn't work.  We tried talking (with me crying) about it... but it just ended in hubby falling asleep, and me staring absently into space trying to comprehend what just happened.

A few hours later, I was numb.  And hubby woke up.  We had to pick his car up from the mechanic, so I drove him there.  I made the mistake of putting on jeans to drive him there.  I haven't worn anything but stretchy pants or skirts since starting the Lovenox injections.  (Because my stomach was so bruised up, and my hips hurt so bad that I didn't like anything to touch it.)  I started to drive there, but had to pull over and make him drive.  Not only did I have to unzip my jeans to relieve the physical discomfort, but it just brought back the reason why it hurt to wear jeans, and I just started crying again in the car.  Tears kept rolling down my cheek under my sunglasses, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was heart-broken and disappointed.  But even more so, I really didn't want to have to break the news to my parents.  They had been so supportive through this whole process, and I hated the thought of letting them down.  We had talked about how this was going to be Grandkid #11 for them.  And now it's not.  I didn't know how to tell them.  Or my siblings.  Or anybody.  I didn't want them to be disappointed.  

Later that night, I texted my parents that I wanted to come over for a short visit.  I was going over in my head what I was going to say.  But it in the end, it didn't matter.  I couldn't talk.  I walked in their front door, saw my mom and dad, shook my head no, and started crying again.  They figured out the rest.

I texted each of my family members that night.  They were all so very loving, supportive, and gentle.  They helped me get through the night.

The next day (Thurs), I thought about going into work.  I had texted a co-worker who said she would open the office for me if I wanted to sleep in.  Or even cover for me the whole day if I wanted her to.  I had intended to go in, if nothing else it would be something to distract me from this news.  But the reality of it hit me the next morning when I woke up with a killer headache.  (From all the crying I did the previous day, I suppose)  So I ended up taking the day off.  And watching dumb TV shows- ranging from Thundercats (the 80's cartoon) to Judge Judy to Downton Abby.  It was a wide genre of shows.  But I just did whatever I could to get through the day.   A friend came to visit that evening, and that helped distract me.

Friday is kind of a blur.  I don't honestly remember what happened.  I had a hair appointment, and went out to lunch.  I don't remember what else.

Saturday, hubby was home with me.  I told him I wanted to go to the temple together.  We decided to just go to the Mesa Temple Visitor's Center.  We went inside, watched a simple video about families.  And I lost it again.  I was still having a hard time.  So was my hubby.  We stood out on the temple grounds looking at the scenery.  I asked him the same thing I asked him when I was getting my bad shots.  "We're going to get through this, right?"  

Sunday, I was doing pretty decent.  I went to church.  And was kind of praying about what our next step should be.  I got a text from my brother/ sister-in-law that they just had their baby.  (Which was a surprise)  We didn't think she would have him until the end of the month.  Seeing the pic of my brother holding that little baby just made me cry all over again.  I had to pray to ask Heavenly Father to help me not be jealous.

There was a beautiful musical number of my favorite song (Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing), which I cried all through.  (A good cry)  And the last speaker was interesting.  He had served his mission in Germany right around the time the Berlin wall went up.  

 Previously, the members in East Germany (a communist country) had traveled to Switzerland to go to the temple to be sealed.  But then the East Germany government made a new rule that there was no citizens could travel out of the country. The prophet visited the people and told them if they were faithful, they would not be denied any blessing that members of the church in other countries enjoyed.  For years, the members of the church kept requesting travel visas, and they kept getting denied.  Finally the Minister of Religious Affairs told the president of our church that the members would never be allowed to leave the country to go the temple.  Then he said, "I don't understand why you don't just build a temple here."  And so that's how the miracle of the temple in East Germany came about.  East Germany (a communist country) got a temple before West Germany did!

Those faithful members had to wait for the blessings that came so easily to other members of the church in other countries.  But eventually, their prayers were answered, and they not only got to go to the temple, but they had one built in their own country.

So that resonated with me.  Those church members in East Germany probably thought it wasn't fair.  And life's not fair.  But the Lord has a grand plan.  Even though we don't understand.  And one day, mortality will make sense.  Even if it doesn't right now. 

So... by the end of sacrament meeting, I was okay again.  I went to nursery to help out.  And I was okay with it.  Things are going to be okay in the long run.  I don't know why I don't get the chance to be pregnant, but there's a reason.  And I just have to have faith that there's another plan, and I just don't know what it is.  But it will be worth it in the end.