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Thursday, September 04, 2008

Losing My Way

I could really relate to Square Peg's question a couple of posts back. She asked "Do you ever feel like you're the last one?" Like you are the only one, who after years of TTC is still without success? You haven't had the "oops!" pregnancy, and you haven't struck gold with IVF twins, or found a little one to adopt? Yeah. That is how I feel these days, like I am the only one left. I know I'm not of course. I know that there are more of us out there. Logically, I know these things. But some days, it gets overwhelming and I think I can't go on any more. There are days, most days actually, when I wonder if I'm putting myself through all of this ache and grief for anything at all. Because in the end, I know darn well this saga will not end with my getting lucky and having a child. I am just going through the motions. I expect nothing from this and I truly do believe that when all is said and done, and our money paid, that my arms will still be empty. I feel like I'm just putting in the necessary time to get to that point, and maybe then I can move on. To what, I'm not sure yet. But at least it would be moving on.

Last week, I had yet another roadblock thrown in my way. Let's face it, this journey is full of them. Some are small, some are large. Some are insurmountable, or that is the way they seem. Sometimes all of the small ones add up and look insurmountable. That is how I feel right now. That there are hundreds of roadblocks and either I have to climb over them, go around them, move them, or give up and sit in front of them waiting for them to be taken away. Last week, I lost My Angel. For those of you who've kept up with the story, you know exactly who I am talking about. A recap for those who are new: I have a severe needle phobia and I finally found a phlebotomist who works wonders with my tiny, fragile, collapsing veins. I have nicknamed her My Angel. Anyway, the walk-in clinic where she usually works is undergoing renovations. And the lab that was located within that building closed; they've referred patients to another, different lab nearby. I went to the clinic to have blood drawn for a follow up thyroid check to ensure that my hypothyroidism is still being treated properly and that my levels are good. No lab. I just about freaked right there in the parking lot. I gathered my papers and went in to talk to the reception desk. "Where is the phlebotomist that was in the lab?" I asked. "The lab is closed. Go to blah blah blah..." I tuned out. "No no, you don't understand. I don't care WHICH lab she is at. I need to find HER. Where is she?" "Um... I don't know." That statement was accompanied by a blank stare and another receptionist who'd overheard chimed in, "Let me ask around for you. Maybe someone knows where she went." I was shaking by this time; if I couldn't find her, I'd have to start all over again with someone else. Not cool at all. The receptionist returned... with no good answer. I barely held it together til I got to my car. I spent the next three days, and I don't know how many hours on the telephone trying to find My Angel. I finally tracked her down. And when I walked into the clinic, she looked at me and said joyfully, "You found me!" I recounted my tale and she looked at me incredulously, "But I left my information with the clinic. They know where I am!" I gave her my business card this time and told her that if she EVER EVER moves again, please let me know! I will follow her to Toronto if I have to! No joke. Anyway, she managed to find a vein and got the one little vial she needed; the bruising started before I even walked out of there. It's never easy is it? And because of all this delay, I even had to reschedule the doc appointment to go over these bloodwork results because he simply wouldn't have had them in time. One roadblock after another. I did have a helping hand at the phlebotomist's though; my best friend MH (pictured with his wife in the previous post) was here visiting and he let me mangle his hand for a change. God love him.

I hate having no control. I hate being at the mercy of others. I hate that of all of the things in my life, of all of the quests I have pursued (degrees, travel, opportunity, career, marriage, social life, etc.) that this is the hardest quest of all and I can't do a thing to change the outcome only do as I'm told. I wonder when the time comes to wash my hands of the whole thing and walk away. Will I recognize it?

Have you walked away from something you have tried to do and simply not been able to achieve, no matter what your efforts? What did you walk away from and how did you know it was time to walk away?

5 comments:

lisa said...

Gil -
I haven't commented in forever, but still follow your story. I walked away from something big after realizing it just wasn't worth the struggle anymore. After 10 years (5 years of classes and 5 more trying to write a dissertation), I quit a Ph.D. program. I was able to get a masters out of the deal, and decided that was going to have to be enough. I still get grief about it from my family and people don't understand my decision, but I know it was the right one for me.

LJ said...

I have. Walking away from fertility treatments was easy once we had the diagnosis, but before that? This is gonna sound really dumb, but I suppose it wasn't at the time.

When I was a kid, I sang. I was in plays, I was in shows, in choirs. So when I went to college, I figured it wasn't a matter of if I would sing, but in which college a cappella group. Which one did I get into? None of them. Not a single one. Semester after semester after semester I tried out, knowing full and well that they never took anyone after sophomore year. But I COULDN'T give up, because it was the essence of who I thought I was. It haunted me for years after college even, knowing that something I had done for 18 years was no longer a part of me, and that the opportunity was gone. I don't know how or when I was able to let it go - and I still don't hear certain music the same way, but it can still hurt at times - like someone took part of my heart away and left it in those days.

So it's not the same, but I swear...I get it.

sariel & shlomit said...

Hey Gil,
Thanks for your support over my rocky road these last few days.
I just want to say that I really feel for you. So much of this post I could have written myself.

There's not much I give/gave up on. But in January, I gave up on fertility treatments. It's been a sad, hard road in some ways, but in other ways there was some freedom to it (scarey freedom -- like diving off a cliff and free falling). Although we stopped going to the clinic in December, it's been a longer process of not 'trying'. Ironically, it was only in the last month that I wasn't 'timing' things on some level or doing the little extras (like baby aspirin).

Now that we've hit another roadblock, I'm not sure what it'll do to my resolve. But there you have it. The thing I quit: trying to have a baby.

WIshing you well on your journey -walking beside you here in the blogosphere.
peace
shlomit

Katie said...

Hi sweetie. I walked away from TTC after one round of Clomid and the doc said I had less than 10% of conceiving and, even if we did conceive, I'd probably miscarry. So I didn't even try assisted fertility treatments. Walked. Away. Ironically, and thankfully, both hubby and I were in total agreement and at peace with the decision. But that doesn't mean there weren't many moments of tears, anger, numbness. I'm glad the pain has subsided, 2-3 years later, and now I only get twinges.

mary grace said...

Dh had a vas reversal in 2005, and we've been unable to have a viable pregnancy. I walked away after about two years, and we pursued adoption. It was just too hard for me personally--I could no longer live in the present with my family, I was always living month to month. It was the right decision for us, but definitely not for others.