Wednesday morning I had a nightmare. Basically, it was about a complication which occurred from our next IUI when a new nurse punctured my uterus with the catheter for insemination. Basically the puncture causes complications, besides uncontrollable bleeding, and I lose my uterus.
In it, I am in a hospital bed surrounded by T, my parents, T’s Aunt G, and my cousin L. My mother, speaking very loudly, is saying “I told her not to do those procedures and that she would only hurt herself. I don’t understand why.” I loose it and tell her “Get out.” And she leaves with my father.
I cry uncontrollable for the loss of my fertility, all over again, like it was a new wound. Although, I acknowledged in my dream that it was very much useless even before now. But, at least, there was always a chance. Granted not very large, but a chance just the same.
So my cousin proceeds to offer her uterus. Now, I know, how unselfish. Yet, I know, even in my dream, that it is only self serving offer. I immediately say no, that T and I decided not to use a surrogate. And in my minds eye, I look at my husband and I know that we haven’t even talked about it. But, it was simply not an option for me. To have her have that over me, something to dangle and taunt me. You couldn’t do this, so I had to do it for you. I am better and you’re bad. It would only further a competition that my mother started between the two of us, since I don’t measure up to her nieces.
So L says, “But, have you done enough?” And all I could do was cry hysterically and yell at her to “GET OUT.” G gets onto the bed and holds me, while T holds my hand.
I woke up crying. And thinking of what next?
See, I’ve changed my dreams before. But, I’ve never had to do it for other people. Lets face it, stopping will effect a slew of people; my husband, my parents, my sister, my mother-in-law – not just me.
But, it isn’t like I didn’t try. (Actually, the dream left me in such a state that I woke up and went to the computer where I have a file regarding my cycles and ovulations.) With this IUI, we will have had 12 ovulations, and 12 attempts. And with one more IUI, that will be 13 for total. Now, to me that is enough. Especially when you consider, that according to all of the doctors, all we needed to do was get me to ovulate. It makes me feel betrayed by the medical community. Betrayed by my body. Guilty. Because, I’ve ovulated 11 times thus far, and no baby.
Yet, I fear that once we stop, it will just be a new battle. I will have to answer for our decision. Because to someone, and maybe to even you, it won’t be enough – I could of done X. Which leaves me feeling like this will never be completely over. At least not until I hit menopause or die. Honestly, I am not looking forward to either event. The hot flashes on the Clomid were a b*tch.
Why is that every time that I think I am OK, something pops into my head that proves that I am not? At least not truly completely OK.