I hate my ovaries

Just awake stewing about how much I hate my ovaries and filled with self loathing right now.

I guess I’m officially on my break from ttc for the next few months while I try to loose weight, go to acupuncture, do whatever else I can think of that might help/not hurt before trying once more with my own eggs.

The thing with this approach is that it places blame for the continued failure to have a child (another child) squarely on myself. If only I was better, it would have and still has a chance of working. If I were skinnier, healthier, calmer, took more time for self care….whatever….it probably would have and still could work.

The reality is that even if I can do some of these things, it probably still won’t work, and then there will just be more to hate and resent.

I’m thinking about going to see a therapist to talk through some of this stuff cause I know that how I’m thinking now….last night/early this morning….it isn’t healthy. Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, I was thinking about how people turn to drugs/alcohol/food/whatever drown or avoid the feelings and wishing I had something better. How, I was letting some of the sorrow and pain out, but only a small part because the rest was too great it scares me and I just can’t right now. I have too much to do with taking care of Max, work, and life to let myself feel the full force of my disappointment in myself and the repeated failures of late.

A few weeks ago, I was reading on one of the fertility sites I browse on occasion and read a thread that talked about pet-peeves. Mostly people were talking about non-fertility related stuff, but a few listed stuff around trying to conceive. Since then, I’ve been thinking about mine…when people call themselves “poor responders” and then say, I ONLY had 5 follicles/3 eggs/ xx whatever. Even at my best, I never got that. Never made it to ER. Not once. Never will. I’ve been thinking I should start the ‘no responders’ support group, but that sadly, I’d be the only member I know and it would be just like now with me having a pity party for myself. I know, I know…the people that say that still don’t have a child or another child and relatively speaking, it isn’t great. I really do understand where they are coming from. I do. But, there odds are 5 times. 3 times, xx times better than mine.

My odds are ZERO. I can’t even fucking get in the game. I don’t even get to play. Or, rather, I can try. I can try as hard or as long or as many times I want, but the result is still the same.

And, if I was “better”, more worthy, it probably would have work.

And, if I hadn’t miscarried 9 months ago I’d have Max’s sibling in my arms. I was sad then about the loss, but at least happy that I still had and could get pregnant. That it didn’t work this time, but if I just tried long enough, enough times, it was an odds game and it would eventually work. Since then…9 months ago…I have had one and only one true follicle on my cancelled IVF cycle. I have nothing to show for my time, efforts, money except more pain and sorrow. I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything I know…except loosing weight, acupuncture, and whatever and if I had done that then …hey, maybe it would have work.

I hate the blame game, especially when I’m blaming myself.

I have more thoughts about DE and moving to DE and being okay with it, but that’s another post for another day. Mostly, I think I am fine with moving on, except why am I fine with the internet and my SMC friends knowing, but feel like I wouldn’t want my family to know….which has more to do with my own feelings of failure than any support or lack there from them.

And, I decided last night, to not go to my grandmother’s service even without the need to worry about the rest of my cycle. I do feel a small amount of guilt over this, but logistically, I just don’t think I can pull it off. I would need to get myself and Max (because I really really can’t leave him for that long and feel good about it) from home to Northern Michigan by Thursday. This means I would need to leave here no later than Wednesday morning. I just can’t get the tickets, get someone to watch the dog/cat, try to meet up with my cousins (on the other side) in Detroit to get weather appropriate gear for Max; and then drive another 5 hours or so to the service. Assuming no delays or problems, we would have a 6 hour flight with another 5 hours of driving not counting getting to the airport, and not counting the packing. And, not counting all the work I would either need turnover or rather cancel or reschedule for later. If I had another day or two to try to pull things together, I may just be able to do it, but otherwise, I’m just one person trying to do the best I can and attempting this would just put my over the edge right now and I’m too close to going over the top as it is. Plus, two of my sisters (my oldest and my youngest) are already bickering and fighting…started Sunday apparently when my mom and youngest sister took my oldest one out for her Birthday lunch…and now is getting flamed because of the trip for grandma service. I’ll spare you all the petty details, but really THAT was the last deciding straw. I just can’t face having to overcome what already felt like a overwhelming obstacle to go have to listen or be put in the middle of that.

Anyway, just up having a pity party for myself. Stewing. Brooding. Blaming.

I wish I could just truly believe that my latest cancellations and all the ones that came before it this year really just “are” without labeling them. Intellectually, I know this. Emotionally, I’m not there yet.

So, I’m left wishing and dreaming. If only. If only. If only.

Where can I get the newer, younger model? I really hate my ovaries (trying to target the hate instead of taking it on in total). I want to trade them in for a new, younger model. Or, at least a set that work.