I told myself that I knew an IUI wasn’t going to work, so I certainly wouldn’t be hurt when it didn’t.
I told myself we were just doing it so we could say we tried everything short of IVF. We had drawn a line for ourselves, and this would simply be our stopping point.
I told myself that I wasn’t emotionally invested in this IUI. It wasn’t going to work, remember?
I told myself that I had resigned myself to not having children.
I told myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone when I had my IU, so that I wouldn’t have to face telling them when it was a failure. Maybe just Mama, or my YaYa Princess. Maybe one of my sisters in law. But certainly not anyone else.
I told myself that I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
I told myself I wouldn’t fantasize about telling our parents I was pregnant, or how I would tell my friends. I wouldn’t imagine what next Thanksgiving would be like, or next Christmas. I wouldn’t plan for a child who doesn’t exist.
I told myself I wouldn’t stress through the Two Week Wait. I told myself I wouldn’t analyze my “symptoms”.
I told myself that the cramps were a good sign, and certainly not the beginning of the end.
And now I’m telling myself that I’m okay with this, that it’s okay it was a failure.
I’m finding out that I lie to myself a lot. Because I did hope, and I do want, and I am so very disappointed and sad.
I told myself we’d only do it once.