Angry Ute

As if the emotional pain of a failed cycle wasn’t bad enough, for the past two days I’ve been doubled over in physical pain with the worst. cramps. ever.  I’m pretty sure my uterus is trying to eat my other organs.

There’s so much I’ve wanted to write about regarding the sucktitude of the past week, but between the depression, anger, sadness, and now soul-sucking cramps, I haven’t been able to string two coherent sentences together, so bullets it is:

→ Hubby pronounced Tuesday night that “We have to move on.”  A mere four days after first getting the news that our one and only chance at having a baby in the near future was a big fat failure.  Must be nice to be able to get over life-altering news so quickly.

→ That same night, I woke up at 2 am with intense nausea.  For a wild, fleeting moment, I thought, “Two negative betas were wrong.  I am pregnant.  Stupid medical science, misdiagnosing all the time.”  Then I proceeded to throw up five times in just over four hours.  Decidedly still not pregnant.  Just sick as a dog.

→ Last night, I finally came up with a witty comeback to Hubby’s statement earlier in the week.  (Yes, it often takes me three days to do this.)  “Easy for you to say when you’re not the one cramping and bleeding.”  I also informed him he will never know what it’s like to experience the physical symptoms of not being pregnant.  At least he didn’t try to argue with that logic.

→ My therapist told me this week that I’m coping very well.  Doesn’t feel like it.

→ I bailed on my writing group, citing our recent failure and the fact that I’m not taking the news very well.  If I can’t write here, I certainly can’t be expected to write poetry.

→ Our guys lost in the first round of the NCAA tournament.  To a much lower-ranked seed.  I just looked at Hubby and said, “Can nothing go right for us this week?”

That pretty much sums it up.  Everything still sucks, but at least we’re not Georgetown.


13 thoughts on “Angry Ute

  1. What a nasty time.

    One of the worst things about this is that “coping well” doesn’t mean that you feel good. It still feels like shit. It’s great that you’re healthy, but being healthy in this case means feeling like shit. How is that okay?

    Also – after our failed cycle, my husband said, “I wish you could come to terms with this.” Which is NOT as bad saying you have to move on, like, 2 days after getting the news – but even so, I was like, you’re not the one who’s been getting the brunt of this experience from day one.

    I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.

  2. Egh. I’m sorry. One thing that I learned about my husband after my miscarriage is that he sometimes says things like “we have to move on” because he’s having a difficult time with it, as well, but feels as though he has to be strong for me. And “be strong” means “show her that I’m coping well emotionally.” So it comes out as something that sounds crappy and insensitive and along the lines of “get over it.” It doesn’t make it okay, but it stings a little less to hear when I know the motive.

    • I could not agree more with this. My husband is the exact same way. My husband didn’t open up about how hard our IF struggle was on him until a year after our son was born and our friends were then going through it. He cried. He sat at our kitchen table and cried about our IVF failures prior to our son. AMAZING. They try to be so strong.

  3. UGH. I am so sorry. This week sounds miserable for you and I am so sorry you are dealing with it. But, you did write! And I hope that blogging helped you get some of your anger and frustration out – thats what these blogs are for!

  4. Oh these husbands, they just insist on trying to make it better with useless words. I’ve found through our prior IVF failures that my husband wants so desperately to “fix things,” that he’ll say anything that he thinks will help. And it usually does not. You can’t blame them for trying, but it is very frustrating when their words just don’t match the situation.

    You take all the time you need to “move on from this.” I am telling you – that first IVF failure is the worst. So many hopes and dreams dashed in an instant. Reading your recent posts have felt, in a way, like reliving our first IVF failure. It’s just so hard.

    Hang in there!

  5. Yep, I agree with everyone…you get to grieve this loss as long as you need to, no matter what the hubs says. You will move on, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to anytime soon. I’m so sorry everything sucks. I hope there you see the light at the end of the tunnel sometime soon. xo

  6. First off, I’m very sorry to hear about the physical pain. On top of the heartache from a failed cycle, it’s really rough. I hope the pain subsides soon.

    I’m not trying to be harsh, but I think you’re being a bit too hard on your Hubs. The way men cope when confronted with loss and grief is to do something. They make plans, brush themselves off and prepare for the future. I think he’s probably grieving silently right now, blaming himself for all the pain and wishing he could fix it. Especially hard in a guy who has the diagnosis of MFI. I’m not minimizing what you’re feeling, but I also think now is the time you two need to be coming together, not tearing one another apart.

    I know how much you’re hurting. To believe that you chance at biological children is gone hurts in a way I never knew possible. And I’m so sorry that you know that pain. But now is the time to hold fast to your family. Your hubs needs you right now as much as you need him.

  7. no good advice other than just to say I’m thinking of you. And as everyone says, whatever hubby actually says it’s coming from a place of trying to deal with all this himself, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I hope you guys can find a good way of talking things through when you’re ready.

  8. I am so sorry you’re going through this, sweetie. It’s just not fair. This stuff hits our husbands hard too. They have a way of bottling it up inside and seeming to move on. The aren’t experiencing it all like we are so they can push away their feelings easier. It wasn’t until after my third miscarriage that K told me that he wished he could feel a little of what I was feeling physically. He didn’t feel like he was coping properly because he wasn’t facing the emotions that came with losing another baby. He thought if he could feel it physically then maybe he would be able to cope better. Be kind to yourself and to the hubs, friend. You’re both struggling right now. Sending love your way.

  9. You must he handling it incredibly well because I would have punched your husband in the schnoz!!! I can’t imagine your pain, but my thoughts are with you…

  10. I agree with everyone else here that your husband’s words are coming from a good place, even if they didn’t come out the right way. He wants you to be happy and is trying to encourage you towards that. It’s just bad timing. As for the angry ute, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re having to deal with that on top of everything else. That’s definitely rubbing salt in the wound. I hope you feel better soon.

  11. From my experience, gender differences have never been so clear as they have been with infertility and miscarriage. Men and women just process it so differently. Sometimes I think, THANK GOODNESS FOR THAT! And other times, it would feel nice if my husband was for once sadder than I am, more anxious than I am, more physically affected by all of this than I am. He never has been and he never will be. Sometimes that’s hard.

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