Cancelled Transfer. Emergency Surgery. Grandpa Died. 100% Broke Up. Worst week ever.

September ended up being the worst month of my life. Again.

My last entry I was getting ready for my final embryo transfer. The appointments all went well. I got scheduled to transfer on 9/25. My only goal had been to transfer before 9/26. The one year anniversary of losing Annabelle. I was so excited. It was meant to be.

I traveled that Sunday to get ready to transfer Wednesday. The week leading up to Sunday was hell. Max decided to fight me on the embryo. Make me need new consents to sign as he felt “cut out”. He finally signed it with minutes to spare. I was so stressed and sobbed endlessly it felt like. I’d done everything right to transfer and then he ended up with full control. I felt trapped. Triggered and reminded of my ex husband. It was awful. But he signed. I was ready.

Feeling pretty positive I get to Colorado and I’m ready and so excited. Everything is scheduled. It was going to be beautiful.

As I get there I start to feel sick. I’m in pain, uncomfortable, feel like maybe severe heartburn. Then I start puking Sunday. Violently. All night. Chills. Sweating. Puking more violently than I’ve ever done in my life. Pain. It was insane. I was sure I had the worst version of the flu of my life.

Monday. Same. Tuesday. Same. I finally call the clinic and tell them I think I need to cancel. They encourage me to go to the ER and we’ll see what they say. Just incase something was underlyingly wrong they say.

Meanwhile my Grandpa has suddenly taken a turn for the worst Monday. He’s dying. I want to be with him but worry I’m contagious and can’t go even if I cancelled my transfer.

I get to the ER and after major drugs and scans am told it’s my gallbladder. Doctor sends me back to my hotel room. Just change my diet. I fall asleep for a few thanks to the fentanyl. I wake up an hour later in worse pain. I can no longer take a full breath. I’m puking worse. I officially cancel my transfer and they tell me to go back to the ER.

I return to a now packed ER. Get taken back finally. By now my heart rates too high. I can’t breathe. I can’t decide if I’m having a panic attack or actively dying of a heart attack. It’s awful. The doctor walks in and tells me he’s calling the surgical team and putting in orders for meds. More tests. In the end the gallstones left my gallbladder and were blocking off my liver and pancreas. I’m now hospitalized 10 1/2 hours from home. Alone. Telling my grandpa goodbye over the phone. Talk about a mess.

I had emergency surgery about 2 am on Wednesday. Admitted to the hospital. Discharged late Wednesday. My grandpa finally let go and passed shortly after.

Max ended up taking a bus to Colorado to bring me home. I was physically and mentally in rough shape. So fucking sore and so fucking sad. We just pretended for awhile the embryo shit didn’t happen.

I’m now 2 weeks out of surgery. Still sore but doing better. 2 weeks since my grandpa died and I’ll forever be heartbroken. My Grandpa raised me. He was the dad I never had. He was the best man I’ll ever meet. The world isn’t the same without him.

Max and I kept pretending. Until he reverted to the old Max. The Max that says shit like “I want you to be happy but I don’t know if I want to be the one to make you happy”. “Maybe I’m with you because I want stability and I’m scared I’ll self destruct alone”. “I love you but I don’t think I love you enough”. Randomly. Then acts like everything’s fine the rest of the time.

Between all of the above and Max I was turning back into an absolute mess. Nothing like being kicked when you’re down.

I took his verbal bullshit for about 10 days after surgery. Then he did it again and I told him I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t forcing him to be with me. He could leave anytime. That I was backing off and letting him go. He left me on read. The next day he randomly told me his friend was late so I could hang out with him instead. I replied I wasn’t a convenience and I was officially done with his games. It’s been silence ever since. About a week now almost.

I’m sad yet I’m not. We’re toxic. He’s toxic to me. He’s right. He doesn’t make me happy. He makes me anxious. Like something is always wrong. I worked today and the cook commented on how he was so glad I was back to myself. We then had a talk that the last month or two I haven’t been right and he’s known something was wrong. The only change – Max. And he’s right. I am slowly getting back to me again. So, I’ve got to stay away from him. No matter how much I love him we can NOT be together. We can’t. It’s not healthy. That’s hard to admit but so true.

I’m struggling being alone. So much time to just be in my head. Missing the companionship as Max was at least a warm body. I’m trying though. Hard. To embrace the alone and heal. I can’t be happy with someone else until I’m happy with myself.

Of course, there’s already “options”. Should I move on this quickly? Probably not. But a healthy distraction and simply a friend is a nice thing to have. I’ve been friends with Cody for 3 years now. We’ve hung out before but never like this. We’ll see. Last night he mentioned pumping the brakes and taking whatever this is slow as he’s not ready and neither am I. I’m good with that. We weren’t moving fast by any means but I know what he means as the sexual tension is definitely there. I’ll do this in a different post.

As far as my embryo transfer. I have no idea. Now I have to pay the year storage fee again as the surgeon told me no transfer for 8 weeks. I’m no longer in a hurry and suddenly I don’t even know if I want a baby. I do. Yet I don’t. I’m tired of the heartache that comes with this process. I don’t know if I want ties to Max for life after everything. He says he’ll stay away. But I struggle to believe him. I loved the dream of this baby. But maybe I need to have a dream that’s only me.

Theres so much more but that’s the short version for now. I’ve got to get ready to go play Bingo with my NOT boyfriend. Ha. We’ll see what the night brings and I’ll do a whole new entry on that and how I feel about him, this, us. Because I do want to document this and like figure out my head and relationships/men. Maybe documenting and reflecting on the feelings will help determine what my deal is.