Sad

I am surrounded by good news and other people's hope. It should wash over me like a contagion and I should revel in the fact that new life is being celebrated everywhere I turn. Except that I am not in the mood to celebrate. Not anymore.

It turns out that it wasn't a lab error. Today effectively marks the culmination of all BFNs I could possibly gather in my hypothetical future for there will be no other attempts, at least not in the biological sense. I officially have diminished ovarian reserve. Today, I mourn.

I am no longer at a borderline stage. It took my body less than a year, from May 2012 to March 2013 to more than double my FSH and my AMH is being measured at less than a quarter of what it was last year.  My values look like those of a woman ten years my senior. Obviously the change was so dramatic that my doctor assumed a lab error.  I knew better. I think I always did.

I could wax poetical about the intricacies of what I feel, talking about grief and loss in stages and details, but I think I'll take a cue from my son who states it plainly enough. I am sad. I am just sad.

It feels like I'm lugging around a 50 pound heart, one that is so tender to the touch that any movement I make hurts. But I must move, as I have this past year, but damn, it's hard. I'm just tired of feeling so battered all the time. Loss after loss, every time I try to get up and brush myself off, I'm knocked down again.  

In just a little over two months time, a second unfulfilled due date will pass and no one will notice but me.  And knowing that that child was my last chance, truly my last chance, it will not pass easily. And yes, I have the ultimate trump card-a living child. I am beyond blessed to have him, but still I hurt. I am sad. I am just sad.