Well, I’ve been holding my breath for a good 2 months, so we’ll start back from the last post. In August, I was anything but positive… Pissed off at people trying to help but not wanting to listen, I retracted and started to plan. The cycle went something like this – good growth of my 5 follicles, followed by too much growth. At my retrieval, the anesthesiologist said “they had a hard time getting at the eggs.” I felt just what a hard time was – pain…. Luckily she had a heart and hopped me up on pain meds for the day, which helped me with the next part. “We retrieved 4, 3 were mature and 1 fertilized.”
I was crushed. I thought “What a waste of time.” I went to the donor site that I had been trolling with credit card in hand to “pay” for the eggs I thought I’d use for my next cycle (there’s a $400 reservation fee to hold a donor) Below my donors picture, read the words “RESERVED.” Someone got to her before me. To say I hit a low was an understatement. I made the mistake of mentioning it to a friend who hit me with the “everything happens for a reason” bullshit. I didn’t want to hear it.
I started looking at other donors and waited for the call that I was sure would say “the embryo didn’t make it.”
Because that’s what we do throughout this process – we hope for the best but expect the worst. It makes it hurt just slightly less and gives us some sense of control over our feelings so that they don’t crush us. After all, we innocently want to be mothers and fathers – it’s not like we want to take over the world or blow something up or steal money or hurt someone. We just want the chance to know what it’s like to do what everyone in the world seems to be doing naturally – starting and continuing their families. (of course, I know that there are many more suffering from IF and that even some of those who are pregnant have become that way through treatments. It just seemed like I was in this bubble of loneliness through this process and the world was moving on without me.)
I hated lupron – the devil drug. The weight started to come, the irritability, the acne and the extra 2 shots a day simply sucked. I was so bitter about the process, that I had to go through it, that my emotional life was on hold. That is the real truth – my emotional life was paralyzed and the only feeling I had was fear masked by bitchiness. To be honest, I liked the Dr’s appointments, the ultrasounds and I liked that I was doing something so important that I had the confidence to cancel clients and take days off because this was big enough. Finally there was something of meaning that I could prioritize because there was only a window where treatment could occur – this was our last cycle with our own eggs and it was important. It made me feel good – like I was standing up for myself and it made me feel foolish because I knew the odds were not in my favor. I waited……………