Waiting for Daisy

I have been so bad at posting lately. I just haven’t been inspired to write.

I read the book Waiting for Daisy this weekend. I don’t know what I expected. It was a quick read and very well written. And I found myself wanting to yell “Yes! I know exactly how you felt!” — the arguments with her husband, the obsession, the sacrifices, the will to do anything, anything to reach the goal. And losing sight of the ultimate goal — becoming a mother — by focusing so solely on becoming pregnant. She had several passages on her reactions to comments such as, “Everything happens for a reason” and “God doesn’t give us what we cannot handle” and “Why don’t you just adopt” — and I could have written those sections of her book myself. I thought her story was so similar to mine it was almost eerie. Then I thought how many other women out there have the same story, and THAT is just a tragedy.

And then she got pregnant – the “natural” way, with her husbands sperm, and her egg, by having sex. I think there may have been clomid involved, but still. She had a miscarriage. It was a molar pregnancy, which is attributed to sperm problems. They tried IVF and her response was even worse than mine, and they were given horrible chances for ever conceiving naturally. But she did, twice more. She miscarried both times and they tried a donor egg, an egg from a close friend that she met on-line after writing her book “School Girls”. The IVF with the donor egg didn’t work. There was some indication that the clinic mishandled the procedure but it is unclear whether it would have worked anyway. They were thinking about their next steps, when she discovered she was pregnant – again the “old fashioned way”. This pregnancy was normal. The book ends after she finds out her CVS results were normal (her other miscarriages were due to chromosomal abnormalities). The epilogue skips to two weeks after her baby, Daisy, was born.

I was feeling very close to Peggy while I read her book, and having met her probably only helped that feeling. But then, when she started getting pregnant on her own, I felt that connection snap. I felt like, ‘OH – we really aren’t the same after all’. And each time she got pregnant, I felt worse for myself. I was hoping that this book would give me some hope that my story will have a happy ending too. I know that my story has NOTHING to do with her story, and my own hope shouldn’t hinge on someone else’s memoir. But it did, and it does. We were not in the same boat. I am on my own journey, one where pregnancy has not ever been part of a chapter. I have NEVER been pregnant and each month that goes by without a positive pregnancy test, hope gets a hairline fracture that only grows with time. I don’t know how many women are out there with a story like mine but I am beginning to think I am the ONLY ONE.

It is funny. I used to root for my friends IRL and on-line when they were trying. And I would cheer for every one of them when they got pregnant. But now when I hear that women with prior miscarriages are TTC, I shrug my shoulders. Because everyone I know and have read about that have had a miscarriage end up having a baby eventually. And the stat is something like 90% of all couples where the woman is over 38 will get pregnant within two years. But most people that age don’t wait two years, they rush to the RE within 6 months or a year. I just don’t feel like my IF and their IF are the same – at all. Because I have no idea whether my eggs and my husband’s sperm can do it. I have zero evidence that it can happen. And each day that goes by, hope slips away a little bit more. And I am beginning to believe that all this money I have spent, am spending, will spend would be better spent on the house, or (gasp) on the future adoption that we may or may not go through with.

If I never get pregnant, I really don’t think it was “God’s Will” or “Not meant to be” or my fault because I couldn’t de-stress, or I smoked when I was in college, or I drink too much wine before I ovulate, or that it is evidence that I really don’t want it that bad. It is just bad luck. We all don’t get everything we want, do we? To me, it is beginning to feel like the lottery. I won the bad luck lottery.


8 Responses to “Waiting for Daisy”

  1. B Says:

    I could so relate to your post.

    I feel so left behind, all my real life and most of my blogger friends have succeeded. Meanwhile, I keep trying another IVF and fail E.V.E.R.Y time.

    I too can’t relate to others who succeed naturally/unexpectedly, it will never happen to me and makes me feel isolated, just like you. I wonder if there’s anyone out there, just like me.

    All the time I have spent wondering why it isn’t working, yes I am on the wrong side of 35 but people much older get pg, just not me!

    I hope you do beat the odds in your next cycle.

  2. swim Says:

    You are not alone, although I know it feels like it.

    I too have NEVER been pregnant and are watching all my IRL and online friends get pregnant. I sometimes feel like a clock is ticking and I can’t stop it. I’m 37 and people tell me that there is still time…. right… they are lying.

    I wish it were easier.

  3. Allison Says:

    I’m right there with you, girl. Your description of the connection snapping when the author got pg. That is exactly it. You feel like you have this connection to someone (even if it’s just through a book) and then BAM. You find out they can actually do something you can’t. I hate that almost everyone I tell about IF comes back at me with a story about a friend of a friend who tried and tried for YEARS and then got pregnant on their own. Yeah, thanks. Why don’t you just tell me IF is all in my head. I know they mean to give me hope – but it just makes me feel more and more alone.

  4. JB Says:

    I can relate so much too! I am 44 y/o and will never have a baby come from my own body due to my age and PCOS. I am very pessimistic about even being able to one day adopt. I really feel like I am such a failure as a woman to not be able to be a MOM. What really irritates me is when the fertile myrtles go out and have kid after kid after kid – like rubbing salt in the wound with no care or interest for those infertile women. It really, really hurts.

  5. Liz Says:

    I could have written this post.
    I’m 26 and infertile. I feel so left out of the IF world, and so left out of the non-IF world. I’m not old enough to have the excuse of putting a career first, or plain just being too old, yet I can’t relate to my friends who have had children naturally.
    I’ve lost friends who have become mothers, because the incredible guilt, and envy keeps me from seeing them as real people. I even have jealousy towards my brother and sister-in-law for popping out two kids in less than two years. (not that I want that, but you know)
    We did adopt our son internationally in 2006. It helped to put a damper on these feelings, but it certainly didn’t fix the feelings. They are being dredged up more so now as we are trying to have a sibling. We can’t afford to adopt again, so thought we would try treatments and started with a new RE that actually listened to us. It’s all promising, but honestly I still feel jealous going in the office and seeing other pregnant women. I’m only 26 for heaven’s sake and just thinking about sex should be enough to knock me up, like it seems to everyone else.

    Oh I’m ranting and I’ll leave you alone now.

  6. docgrumbles Says:

    I soooo loved that book. It is what gives me hope. It was well written and she really captured the experience of pressured and desperate babymaking attempts.

    I hope you end up like her, pondering the struggles while raising your own child.

  7. Kenna Says:

    I read that book as well.

    When finding she did get pregnant the ‘old fashioned way’ I thought about my doc visit when they gave us a one digit % chance of conceiving naturally.

    I feel for you.

  8. Rebecca Says:

    I completely understand what you are saying. I have friends, both IRL and online who, at one point I would have been so excited for them starting TTC, but now I dread it. I dread that they will fall pregnant in their first month, and that I will once again be left behind.

    This is a crap lottery.

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