It didn’t work. The first attempt at IVF yielded no positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted my baby. I wanted our baby.
Our baby wasn’t growing in my womb. The nurse said “I’m sorry”. I said “Its’ okay.” It wasn’t okay. I should’ve been pregnant. I cried.
I cursed God. I was angry. I was in hell.
Why couldn’t God allow me to get pregnant? Didn’t he know that I wanted a baby? I felt barren and unfit. Unfit to carry a baby.
I withdrew from my marriage. I pushed my feelings inside and threw myself into my work. I needed something to take my mind off not having a baby and I needed to see value in this barren life.
The fertility doctor kept calling to talk to me. I wouldn’t do it. I refused to do it. My husband said “Kee, you need to call the doctor back before he recommends therapy.” Hell, he should have. He did. I was hurting.
After a few weeks of feeling like a failure as a woman because I couldn’t conceive I called the doctor back. He wasn’t available. Oh well. I really didn’t want to talk anyway. He called me right back. He apologized for being in with a patient. He said “I’m sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders and said “I know. It’s part of the process. I knew that there was a probability that it wouldn’t work.” He said, “I think you should do it again. I know that I can get you pregnant.”
I sighed. I couldn’t go through this again. My hair was falling out from the drugs. The bruising on my body. The emotional hell of not hearing that I’m pregnant. I wasn’t ready to be disappointed anymore. I needed to breathe.
“Maybe” I replied.
We hung up. I told my husband what he said. He didn’t respond. I asked him what he thought about it. He said “I think you should do it again. He said that he can get us pregnant.” I walked away.
Silence.
Silence loomed in our house because I felt alone. My body had betrayed me and my husband believed that somehow it was us getting pregnant. It wasn’t. It was me. It was me going through the blood draws, egg retrievals, shots and pills. You can’t understand my pain.
My pain was enveloping me like a thick smoke. I was suffocating. Suffocating in my marriage and in my desire to give him something that I couldn’t give. My womb was broken. I was broken. I was cracking the hell up.
-To be continued-
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A Thomas Point of View 
Wow! This was intense, Tikeetha. I’m going to the doctor in two weeks. I think I’m just going to go with the surgery I need. This journey is really putting a strain on my relationship. I feel like my boyfriend resents me in a way. I feel like giving up some days. I can see this happened in your journey.
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The thing is that my ex-husband didn’t resent me. I resented myself. I blamed myself entirely for this. However, I shouldn’t have. You two need to find time to love and support each other outside of the baby making process because it becomes overwhelming. You feel as though you need a break and it isn’t happening. It’s okay to take a break from the process if you need too. Get back to you and what you value.
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It looks like we’re headed towards a break actually. He says he isn’t happy with me anymore. I can’t go through this alone so I don’t know, maybe that is the best thing to do. I wasn’t even aware of this until last night. This is not the first time we have issues. It’s kind of sad that it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to before. God has my back though with whatever happens.
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Yes, he does. Take this time to focus on you and your son. Decide what you want and do you sis. This back and forth isn’t benefiting you.
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