It's not a baby...

So I guess its time to tell the story. 

I think I'm writing this more for me than anything, but now here it is for anyone wondering.

Cory and I have been hoping to have a baby. We've been "trying" for a few years, but it started getting especially frustrating last year. Failing pregnancy tests after missed (.)'s can only happen a handful of times before the emotional effects become intense. Remembering a time where a disappointing pee stick was lobbed angrily across my bathroom, which I then cleaned through tears and sobs.

Early this year, I offered up possibly the most sincere, pleading prayer of my life. I poured my heart out, imploring, begging the Lord for the chance to be a mother. 

A few weeks later, i finally achieved a positive pregnancy test. Cory and I hardly dared to believe it had finally happened. I was 9 weeks pregnant. The answer to my most heartfelt prayer to date was in my hand, and we were overwhelmed with gratitude and excitement. Finally.

One week later, after extremely severe cramping and heavy bleeding we found ourselves at our new OBGYN's office. The ultrasound screen was showing something very un-baby-like indeed.

We knew it was wrong before the doctor told us, and my heart broke in that moment.

It wasn't a baby. It was a tumor. Shaped like a bundle of grapes, filling up my uterus, making me sick, making me hurt, making me bleed. Betrayal. That's what I felt.

I was diagnosed with a rare Molar Pregnancy. (technical term: hydatidiform mole)

Two days later, at nearly 11 weeks gestation I had my first surgery ever. Unlike some miscarriages, a dilation and curettage procedure was required as soon as possible to remove the mass from my uterus, which otherwise would continue to grow and spread indefinitely.

Recovery was surprisingly long and painful (and bloody).

Molar pregnancies are potentially cancerous, so after some X-Rays and a biopsy of the molar tissue, we were grateful to learn that I do not have cancer (small victories), but that was arguably the most stressful waiting period of my life.

**Edit** I learned later that I was not in the clear at that time. September 18, (6 months after surgery) I tested negative for HCG, and only then were we certain that I was cancer-free. **

For 3 months I've been going in for weekly blood work to monitor my hormone levels as they normalize. Hopefully next week's blood test is my last...

And here we are. 

I can't begin to express the depth of our heartache. This has been extremely painful for both of us. Sometimes the loss of an expectation is a very merciless blow. I still can't talk about it without clamming up. My throat starts burning, my eyes start stinging... I never could have known how this feels without experiencing it. I've hesitated to write about it, because I have no desire to lay my most painful, sincere feelings out for everyone to judge, but I want to do them justice too. 

The feelings of inadequacy, failure, self-blame, anger, bitterness, hurt, disappointment, and loss are indescribable to those who haven't felt them this way. Sufficient to say, it hurts so deeply that even with great effort, it's hard to conceal my inner hurting.

The mindless comments are pretty bad too.

"Miscarriages are so common." - I can assure you that what I'm feeling seems ANYTHING but common, but thank you for making sure I know that my suffering is not valid.

"At least you know you can get pregnant." - Yes. I grew a tumor in my uterus. Totally reassuring as to my ability to grow a BABY. Thanks for that.

Last month I had the pleasure of enduring some careless comments, such as "You've been married 6 years and have no kids?!! (scoff) What have you been doing!!?" (hearty guffaws at my inadequacy ensued) Thanks. Appreciate the judgement. 

And Mother's day was Hell this year.

Anyway. That's all I feel like sharing for now. I'm still kind of an emotional mess, so excuse my curtness. At least now everyone can stop wondering why we have no kids.