On the Road Again

I will be travelling back to clinic-ville later today for my bright-and-early bloodwork and ultrasound monitoring appointment tomorrow morning.  I’ve been pricking my tummy with 300 units of Puregon for the past 4 nights and will do one more injection tonight before tomorrow’s game of peek-a-boo.  No other drugs, just a boat load of supplements and Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) herbs, some meditation, a bit of art, some acupuncture and a lack of sleep to spur on my dwindling ovarian reserve.

I don’t really know what to expect since the RE lowered my dose from my December/January IVF (450 units of Puregon with 10 units of Lupron twice a day until the day before my hCG trigger) and I only produced 5 mature eggs on the maximum dose last time. I would have been happy with 5 mature follies this time since at my age the odds of a viable egg are about 20% or 1 in 5 (that sounds really bleak, doesn’t it?).  I’m preparing myself to be disappointed to see fewer than 5 little follicles growing tomorrow morning but quietly hoping that whatever number show up to play, at least one of them has a viable egg who will go the distance and house our little lost spirit baby so s/he can come home.

I feel fine on the stims, which of course makes me worry about whether there is anything left to stimulate.  Last night I had a pretty epic (for me) meltdown, cursing everything and everyone I could think of and then I slunk downstairs and started crying on the LP’s shoulder as he and the Miracle Baby watched Over The Hedge (the Miracle Baby kept asking for a “mooie” and we finally relented but I had to pack for today’s trip so the LP got to watch the show and I only caught the tail end – so to speak). 

I cried because I don’t want to be apart from them, because I am afraid this won’t work, because I have been so busy with work I don’t feel that I’ve given this cycle 100%, because I cannot believe how in debt we are already from trying to conceive another healthy child and how expensive this whole endeavour has been and because I am afraid that nothing will ever work and we’ll be in the hole a whack of cash and still have nothing to show for all of our efforts, time, sacrifice, heartache and expense.  I cried because 99% of the time, I feel really hopeful and am the epitome of positive thinking, but last night, the 1% realist took over and tugged the rug-of-a-lifetime out from under me.  I could not see the light at the end of this long, dark tunnel we’ve been in for the past year (and for some time about 20 months before that).  Heck, I couldn’t see a light.  Period.

Something has shifted since I did my last hypnotherapy appointment in January.  That dark place was not as deep and I did not get stuck there.  I do not feel it in my chest now and I did not feel it swell up and overwhelm me for the entire evening after my meltdown last night.  Crying on the LP’s shoulder, saying I was sorry for losing it, and forgiving myself for that helped.  I am so grateful I had that session and that it has continued to help me.  Thank you, me. 

Maybe the drugs are affecting my emotions, too?  If so, it’s probably a good thing that the LP and the Miracle Baby are free of my company for the next few days.  But I’m going to really miss them as I wait around for each monitoring appointment and wonder what’s going on in those little ovaries of mine in between.  I’ve booked some acupuncture and some appointments for a work function I’m helping organize (coincidentally in the same city as our fertility clinic – I haven’t decided if that’s fortunate or awkward).  And I plan to walk along the ocean for hours on end while I am in clinic-ville.  Because I can.  And because I need that.

I also could really use your support and encouragement.  Thank you all for reading and being my cheer team, even when you don’t post comments or “like” the posts.  I appreciate knowing you’re thinking about me as I think about you.  I am so grateful for the network of support, encouragement, interest (even when I’m not sure why on earth my blog might interest you – I’m probably especially grateful to you!) and the kindness so many of you have shown me. 

And, one more time, please wish us luck.  Goodness knows we could use some good fortune.  Thank you!

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4 thoughts on “On the Road Again

  1. I absolutely wouldn’t discount the hormonal role the drugs play on your emotions. But I also don’t actually think it’s unhealthy to step into the dark place where you feel less-than-optimistic – so long as you can pull yourself out of it. After two years of swimming upstream in this struggle myself, I have come to see those darker moments as a necessary step, all part of the larger context, or ride if you will. For many of us, fertility is a marathon, and I have tried to accept that. By now I have actually built in days of pessimistic introspection into my monthly cycles after all of these months (my “planning” OCD at work), though they are outweighed by the optimistic ones. Nevertheless, I’m sending some powerfully hopeful vibes into the universe for you right now.

    • That’s a very holistic and pragmatic approach – good planning! I’m okay with trips down darkness/pessimism lane. But I used to live there and have spent long months there in the past year, even when trying to be optimistic (including during my IVF cycle a couple of months ago, if I’m totally honest with myself). This is different. A visit is good. I don’t want to live there or in fear of it. Maybe I should plan for these days – thanks for sharing that!

      Thank you so very much for the vibes!

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