The night before the test I was too agitated to go straight to bed. Instead I sat at my desk working until the desklamp dried out my eyes and made sleep inevitable. I padded to the bathroom past the open bedroom door. I could see P motionless in the darkness lost in sleep. Next to her on the bed, his eyes shining with reflected lamplight, was our cat keeping his watch.

P was awake by 6 and I felt her slip from the bed. I lay still listening as she performed the test and then quietly climbed back into bed. She pressed herself into me and I put my arms around her. Wouldn’t she wake me if it was positive? Wouldn’t she be crying if it is was negative? I was too afraid to own up to being awake; too scared to ask the question. It was better to lie unmoving in an emotional quantum superposition letting everything remain possible and fending off reality.

I felt P sob. At first she was silent, her body moving in tiny spasms of misery. Then, like a sandcastle melting in the low surf, her tears washed through and we fell out of the realm of possibility and into unyielding metallic certainty of the real world.

I spoke to comfort her. She turned and looked into my eyes and said she was sorry as if it were somehow all her fault as if her depair sadness and longing were somehow not enough with out guilt to keep them company. I told her that I was sorry too but that I wanted her to know that however much I might want a baby she had made my life complete: I knew with her I would be happy whatever life had in store for us.

Inside I felt nothing. Not even a numbness – just nothing at all. I convinced myself that what this meant was that after so many attempts I had become enured. Perhaps despite having made the beginner’s error of allowing myself hope, I would cope better this time around.

I had the busiest imaginable day of work ahead of me so I steeled myself, dressed, ate breakfast and set off; a hollow man, my soulless shoes clacking out my non-existence on the rain-soaked pavement. On the train something strange began to happen. As I read newspaper articles, tears sprang into my eyes. I folded the paper, put on my ipod and squeezed my eyes shut wishing the world away determined to keep things together. At Blackfriars, I bumped through the crowd and walked as fast I could, desperate to get to my office. Once through the office door, I dropped my bag and sat at my desk. I was the first in to work and I was momentarily grateful for the solitude. I felt out of control as if from somewhere deep inside of me feelings were leaking like a flow of blood from a wound I couldn’t find. I put my hands over my eyes and began to cry. I heard the door to my office begin to open and sat up abruptly. A colleague had come to ask me a legal question. I sat tight-lipped as he set out the facts and answered as best I could. As he turned to go he asked me how the IVF treatment was going and I could feel the tears coming on again. I had to get out of the room but he was stood in the door. I got up and walked towards him mumbling that it had not worked. As I reached him he put a hand up to touch me, then half withdrew it and then laid it lightly on my shoulder and said “sorry”. That word, meant as a comfort, hurt. I moved as quickly as I could to the lavatory, found a cubicle and sat shoulders shaking with tears on my cheeks and a hole in my heart.

 

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38 thoughts on “”

  1. Thank you all for your comments on the day. P and I are feeling more cheerful now. Perhaps familiarity helps after all.

    We don’t know what our next step will be.

  3. Oh Moobs…I wish I had the right words to say. I wish I had magical powers to make things happen for you and P and I wish wish wish that you two didn’t have to hurt this way. (((((HUGS))))) to you both and just know that it’s ok to cry and it’s ok to feel and it’s ok to be pissed off as well. This I know you know…but I just…
    Well…just keep holding onto one another and loving each other the way you do.
    I am going to send some positive thoughts your way right now…

  4. I’m thinking of you, too. Its weird, that emotion you describe. I have never been in your particular situation, but I know that empty soul-less feeling, devoid of emotion, hardened by experience. It didn’t mean I wasn’t upset – far from it. But I learned that you need that release, and eventually you have to let the tears come through. Grieving is nothing to be ashamed of.

  6. Oh, man, in tears here… know you have my best and fondest hopes for a good outcome to all this.
    And in any case, still sending you good vibes. Hug your lady fair for me.

  8. I never met a man so able to put into words their feelings. P is so very lucky. Give her a hug for me and take one for yourself as well.

  9. i love that you wrote and expressed this and i’m so sorry for all the pain, frustration, etc that you both are going through. hold eachother tight. and love hard.

  10. Oh, Moobs, please know we are all here for both you and P, it’s such a shame things didn’t work out – no, that’s not enough…. Warm thoughts and hugs to both of you.
    Tears in my eyes as I write this

  13. I know this is hard for both of you and I only wish I could do something to truly help. You are such a sweetheart …

    Im leaving you this irish and hawaiian prayer 🙂

    May the fruits of 1000 fertility faeries visit you and bestow triplets.

  14. Very poignant Moobs… it was very brave of you to take us on your journey.
    I am so sad for both you and P.

    Just after I read your post. There was a ring on my doorbell. It was my my old roomate. He had a stack of papers for me to sign. He just came in and said that he needed our help, he needed my husband and I to sign character reference forms about him.
    Why?
    asked I
    ‘Because we want to adopt a child.’ said he
    I had no idea that they were trying…
    Had no idea of the pain…
    I found it odd that I had just read your incredibly moving piece just prior to the ring of the doorbell.

  15. Moobs,

    I can only say keep hope alive. I know it’s possible because my brother is 21 years older than me. My mom had been told she’d never have another. Lucky for me… they kept trying. I used to joke with her that I was an ‘accident.’ She always corrected me by saying, “No. You were a surprise.”

  16. You are so good at conveying all this and I am so affected by this whole situation even though I hardly know you. Know that I’m thinking of you both and although of course I will never know just how bad is this thing you are going through, you sharing your pain might in time make things a little easier…

  17. I don’t have the right words to say. I’m sure there are none. Just know that I am reading and thinking of you both. Thanks for the post, for sharing this.

  18. Darling Moobs,
    Tears tears for you and lovely P… My love to you both. That and about $500 will buy you a cappucino at Starbucks, but alas it’s all I have now 🙂 My little part of the world is thinking of you.
    Rachael

  19. Like the rest, I feel so invested in your story. It’s a strange feeling, having never met you. But I thank you for sharing it, and so beautifully at that. And I’m glad you’re back. And in relatively good spirits.

    Missed you much, Sweet Moobs.

  21. Asking someone if their IVF has got them pregnant strikes me as being the same as what someone said about asking someone if the’re from Yorkshire – If the answer is yes they’ll tell you.

  23. Moobs-

    You two are so strong. My heart really does hurt for both of you.

    I am glad that your spirits are better. Obviously you are leaning on each other.

    (((((HUGS)))))

  24. I’m not sure what to say, except thank you for being brave enough to share your experience, and I’m so sorry.

  28. Thank you for continuing to write about your experiences. There’s nothing more to add that hasn’t already been said so I’ll just leave it there. My very best wishes to you both x

  29. I feel deep sorrow for you and P. Your unrequited love for a soul that has yet to come into your life is almost unbearable. My random experience with these things (therapist of the psycho kind for 12 years) is that love draws life and your love for each other will draw this soul into yours. It’s hard to wait, painful and filled with a sense of failure that all unrequited love brings. Patience and love dearest Moobz… the games not over yet.

    Blessings to you both.

  33. It’s going to be okay. I was married for more than three years before getting pregnant and I’ve had soooo many false alarms before that. Just hang in there and have faith. It happens when you least expect it and when it is truly meant to be. I will help you pray for your most fervent wish to come true. c”,)

  34. I am so sorry. I have no other words. I wish I had some magic word…something….

    Many hugs coming to you from across the big pond.

  35. moobs – I’m thinking of you.
    Irene- I’m sure you mean very well by your comment but things aren’t always okay and they don’t always work out and I don’t think it’s because of a lack of faith or a lack of anything. It just doesn’t happen and it doesn’t change what people feel at the moment.

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