Why I Want You to Stop Asking Me When I Am Having Baby #2

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.

IVF PTSD: Not ready yet

I was planning on starting all my diagnostic tests and procedures during the summer, just to have them done for the year. Unfortunately, every time I look at the paperwork, I break down into sobbing and tears. I'm referring to this as my IVF PTSD.

You see, the very thought of having to go through all the tests, the blood draws the injections, the surgeries, the transfers and the waiting scares the living hell out of me. I don't know why I thought I'd not have to go through this again. As my RE stated, it would be a waste of time to do anything else, since all of the "everything else" failed.

But there's that little part of me that wants to cling to the hope that I will never, ever have to do IVF again.

Now, I have the added stress of not having my insurance cover 100% of it, since we switched insurance companies. I also have to deal with the ever-so-stupid stipulation of the insurance only covering an amount for three attempts per live birth. This means I only have three IVF/FET attempts to get a baby before it's done...forever. Unless I want to pay for EVERYTHING out of pocket...and that isn't an option.

So, I've decided that I am not ready to do IVF again yet. My parents are pushing when we will have another one (which, Kaiden is only 19 months old -- I don't understand why the pressure is on), and people are always asking me when we will have baby #2 (which, by the way, if you do this, you are a real a-hole. It's not your business, and it's not a polite question to ask). I just keep smiling, and I don't say anything, and when I do need to say something, I've been not-so-kindly telling people that it isn't their business. I

Ugh. How do IVF parents do IVF again?