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Archive for June, 2009

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ick

Still sick. Still not pregnant (so Barren? You can stop holding out that tiny bit of hope, okay?).

I have yet to schedule my beta, which is supposed to be Friday. I wonder if they’ll notice if I don’t show up for it? I’m guessing they would notice. Back in 2006 when I was away on vacation (the only real vacation I’ve ever taken in my entire life) on a beta day (and had told them I wouldn’t be there on beta day), they freaked out when I didn’t show up for my beta. But then, having not been on PIO, I’d had solid proof that that IUI (#2) had failed miserably.

So … not showing up for my beta is probably not an option right?

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I Am Sick

I am sick.

And I am also not pregnant. I did cave and POAS. Today is 9dp5dt. Otherwise known as 14 days post retrieval. Though I suppose some of you will argue that it’s too early to tell, a lot of clinics do their betas at 14 dp retrieval. The fact that my clinic waits 18 days doesn’t change the fact that today is probably accurate.

I will dutifully keep taking my PIO until Friday, because I’m a “good” patient (though not good enough to follow my doctor’s directions not to POAS), but then I’ll just be waiting out the 2 weeks until I can see SuperDoc for a follow up consult to decide the following:

  1. WTF???
  2. What next?
  3. Is there anything I should change about my protocol?
  4. Is there any reason I should not start a cycle in August (the alternative is to wait until November, which is not my preference).
  5. What are we going to do to avoid another Dr. Hate situation in the future?
  6. No, seriously, WTF???

I can’t say I’m surprised, or shocked.

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I’ve had a really hard time with this cycle, and Barren just “gets” it when a lot of other people just… don’t. I feel guilty about it, to be honest. I feel like I should have an easier time dealing with infertility by now. I’ve been there, done that. More importantly, I’m on the other side of it. I’ve got a beautiful family, as many people feel the need to remind me. Often. As if that means I should simply be satisfied and be done with.

And yet – I have not resolved my infertility. I have not come to terms with it. Every setback, every failure, every loss this time around hits me as hard, maybe harder, as the first go-around. I think this is partly because this time was supposed to be “easy”, or as easy as IVF ever is. And what we’ve found is that things just aren’t as straight-forward as we thought.

The point is, Barren gets me. She doesn’t try to placate me with “it only takes one”[1] and other such platitudes. She doesn’t tell me I’m being ridiculous. She doesn’t point to my children and suggest I should be satisfied with what I have. She recognizes that the pain I have the second time around is just as real as the first time around. She tells me to stop apologizing for complaining at her. She brings me wine so we can whine over wine together.

So I suppose it should have come as no surprise to me when a beautiful, flowery package arrived in my mailbox today, and I saw that it was from my wonderful friend. I opened it up and found this:

The note made me a little sniffly and teary eyed, and though I haven’t asked her permission to reproduce it here, I’m going to take a gamble and do so anyway:

Dearest Perky,
Thank you again for your friendship and generosity. I hope that someday soon I will have the chance to return the kindness with more than a bottle of wine and the ability to eat your delicious dinners.
I know you aren’t feeling hopeful about this cycle, but if a tiny bit of hope (or
curiosity) creeps in, I want you to be prepared.
Love,
Barren

I knew what would be inside the beautiful, dragonfly wrapping [2] paper, but I burst out laughing when I opened it up:

Thanks, my friend. Laughter truly is the best medicine. I don’t promise to use those lovely (but very tempting) tests. But I promise to pass them back to you if I don’t. Or maybe use them next cycle when I can muster up the hope to think it’s worth wasting a precious FRER.

Barren, you truly are the best person in the entire universe. So… dinner Thursday? 😉

———————
[1] Coming soon: a Barren-inspired post on the “It Only Takes One” math and how flawed it truly is.

[2]How did she know that dragonflies are one of my favorite things in the universe? I swear she and I are just the same person. Except she’s way cuter and always has an adorable pedicure, and I’ve never had a pedicure in my life.

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Because it’s fun for me, every time my husband is trying to annoy me (even jokingly), I say, “No! You can’t do that! I’m gestating!” And I melodramatically throw myself down on the couch, clutching my abdomen protectively, to ensure the safety of our precious morula.

All joking aside, this exchange belies my true feelings about this cycle. Usually, I’m skeptical that a cycle could have worked, but there’s always a piece of me that can’t resist interpreting every twinge, every smptom, every sign. Usually, even though I won’t say it out loud, there’s a piece of me that is shocked when I inevitably cave, pee on a stick, and see a sea of white where there *should* be a second line. Even in my sixth IUI, when no one, not even my doctor, thought it was going anywhere – the cycle that was doomed to fail (but resulted in an HOM pregnancy instead) – even then, I thought there was a chance, even though I wouldn’t admit it out loud.

But this time I simply cannot wrap my brain around the possibility that this cycle has any possibility of ending well. I don’t have even the smallest bit of hope. SuperDoc is heading out of the country for 2 1/2 weeks, and he’s leaving before my beta happens. I’m devastated by this, which is ridiculous, but there you go. I never claimed to be rational, and I’m sure the copious amounts of estrogen and PIO aren’t helping matters. Anyway, I’ve made an appointment for a follow up consult with SuperDoc for the first week of July – right after SuperDoc gets back. I figure that way we can talk about where to go from here, because clearly something’s gotta give.

Sigh.

I hope I eat my words, but I just… I’m not counting on it. I’m really not asking for platititudes. I can’t handle them, really. they won’t make me feel better. All I need now is to just … get from point A to point B.

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I know it will shock you all to hear this, but… none of my little buggers made it to the freezer.

I’m … well, I suppose on one level I am upset that I can’t seem to make decent embryos (though I do know that my clinic has really high standards for freezing embryos). But on the other hand, I’m incredibly relieved that I’m not being faced with a $1300 cryopreservation bill that I really don’t have the money for right now.

Well, you know? I suppose there’s always the possibility that George, Jr. will just stick around and this will all be a moot point, right?

Um. Yeah.

My buddy Barren asked when I start peeing on sticks. I hope I don’t. I’m just not sure I can deal with the neurosis, the hope, the devastation, the rationalizing, the maybes (maybe it’s too early, maybe it’s a dud stick, maybe I should try another brand, maybe, maybe, maybe).

I’m sure I’ll cave. I have, after all, a pile of the internet EPTs in the bathroom cabinet. How could a girl truly resist?

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