Do you see those lines? You know, the second line on each of those tests? However faint they are? The line that means "you are pregnant?" The ones that you yearn to see when you have sank thousands of dollars into treatment? The ones you cling to and immediately envision a little baby at the end of the nine months to come?
Those are my tests. My lines. My baby (or babies). I cried in happiness over those lines.
Those were our last two frozen embryos. The last of the batch from Kaiden.
Do you also see how I am using past tense in that sentence?
Because over the next few days, those lines got fainter, and eventually, they went away all together. Just as soon as I was happy to be pregnant, I was devastated to not be pregnant any longer. I don't know how someone falls in love with a line...but I did, because that is all I had of that baby. That was all I had of those embryos, aside from the picture of them given to me by the clinic. I can't even bring myself to throw the tests out. I feel like I am throwing them away...
I went home after my transfer and waited until the end of the day so I could lay in bed, hold that picture of the embryos and ask them to please stay.
When I saw Kaiden's positive test, I posted to facebook some Taylor Swift lyrics, "Stay, stay, stay. I'll be loving you for quite some time, time, time."
I didn't know that time would be a few days.
This is why I don't want you to ask me when I am having baby #2. It's not any of your fucking business. You have no fucking clue what we are doing with our family. And now that we have zero embryos left, *we* don't even know what we are doing with our family. So, it is not your place to ask us. It's not your place to say, "Oh, well we didn't know!" Because guess what? You don't have to know. You don't have to know because it's NOT YOUR BUSINESS IN THE FIRST PLACE.
So STOP ASKING ME.
For God's sake...please, please stop asking me.
