All Bad Things Must Come to an End

I know that's not the saying. I know it's all good things must come to an end. But if all good things end, then so do bad things. That's only fair, right?

Well, it's not about being fair really. We know that nothing on IF Island is fair. But it is about the cycle of it all I suppose. The cyclical nature of this "journey" that has us running in circles, chasing our tails until something changes. That change could be the longed for P and baby, or it could be a change of attitude, change of heart, change of how we perceive what we want or how we expected certain things in our lives to go. Change happens.

Last night, Noah and I sat eating turkey sandwiches for dinner, while watching Momo TV (her on the monitor). We watched her roll around in her crib (which she's not a huge fan of) for the better part of 30 minutes. She did a complete 360 and found her way onto her side, but kept falling backwards. It frustrates her and she really struggles to stay on her side, desperately trying to get comfortable. Noah and I watched like it was the best reality TV show out there (and it was). We talked about when and how we might intervene, if needed, and rooted for her to settle down and fall asleep. He and I have very few moments these days to just be together, and I had a flash of memory--scattered, collage like memory-- of the years leading up to this moment, and I remembered the feeling of it just being us. 

The feeling was a deep sadness and longing. A tremble of anxiety, as we didn't know if and when the search for Momo would ever end. The quiet in our lives and the stillness in our hearts. While we were always a team, I think there was also a subtle distance that formed the deeper and deeper we got into the chaos of infertility. I honestly didn't think it would ever end. We kept trying things hoping it would, but I couldn't fathom what that might feel like. To watch our baby dance and turn and squirm and kick around suddenly feels normal. It's what we do at 8pm on a Tuesday night (after watching Giants baseball highlight, obviously). And the mosaic of memory of IF Island is there, and it's strong, but it's muted. It's no longer the loudest sound in my head or the sharpest color I see. 

Momo is. 

Just this past week I had three people who follow the blog write to me to share that after years of trying and multiple treatments and testing and surgeries and all that other madness, they are all varying shades of P. It made my heart smile and I wished so badly I could have believed that my time would come when I was in the thick of it. I don't know if I would have believed it. But it really is true. All bad things must come to an end. 

Sending lots of love to everyone stuck in it.

Comments

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Thank you all for sharing. Nothing stays the same forever. It really doesn't. I wish you all the best of luck!

[Laura]

Thank you. Your post resonates with me. After 4 failed ivf rounds and 1 failed FET, I'm ready
to move on to embryo adoption. I pray every day that the tides will turn for me and that a happy ending is out there.

[C]

These comments are so touching! With secondary infertility, we had four failed IVF cycles (never anything to cryopreserve), then moved to embryo adoption. The first transfer was a negative. After the second transfer we had our first ever positive after IVF and our ultrasound is Monday, praying for at least one heartbeat. Having experienced both, I can say normal conception and pregnancy is just a stroll in the park; conception and pregnancy with ART is a major, excruciating journey, full of twists and turns.

[Caroline]

I've commented only once last fall, but this really hit me. After 4 surgeries, 3 rounds of IVF and a miscarriage last year, an emergency hysterectomy (that nearly resulted in my death) forced us to move to surrogacy. Our transfer is next week and I had a total meltdown today over a simple email from our nurse. It's literally PTSD and I'm trying every way I know how to assure myself that there is actually a chance our bad luck could come to an end. So glad to read about people on the other side.

[Cody]

I love this post. After two failed IVF transfers of PGS normal blasts (the last of which was chemical) the doctor's are stumped but have identified that it's most likely my uterus and not our embryos that is the problem. I feel broken and beat up and like all hope is lost. But I know in my heart it isn't - it's just waned for the moment and we need to wait for the tide to change again. I believe in my heart I will be a mom someday - and I think that's all the reassurance I need to know that it will happen. I just wish i knew when (as you did). Take care and thanks for continuing to support the struggle even after finding your Momo.

[Teganwrenwrites]

Thank you for this tender blog post. So much of what you're saying resonates with me. Though our journey didn't end with P, we did find our happily ever after by adoption and that brought tremendous healing. It's so hard to be in the middle of the struggle and not know what your happy ending is going to be. Thanks for sharing your journey, Maya!
Tegan

[Maryann]

Thank you for this.. For now it feels like unachievable dream but I keep reminding myself that nothing stays the same and that one today all this longing, suffering and tears will end!
Praying for our two donated embryos waiting to be transferred very soon!

[Pamela Olson]

Thanks for this! We just harvested 13 eggs (our last try at IVF most likely) and get to play the waiting game as the numbers dwindle at each successive stage... hopefully converging on our child(ren). Trying to take it one breath, one sunset walk, one ice cream cone at a time.

And meanwhile keeping other wonderful options open.

Just in this past month I've finally learned to feel more hope than dread. So excited about watching our little one roll around in a crib in the next year or two, however it happens.