The plan was hatched. The intentions were set. The flights and hotel accommodations were booked. And then life came along and got in the way of my best laid plans. Again.
The LP will not be joining me in New York for the transfer of (I hope and pray) our last two embryos, Gertrude and Alice, on Tuesday. The transfer has been scheduled for the afternoon. That was a small hiccup I did not anticipate and although Dr. Braverman told me that science says there would be no problem at all with me flying back home Tuesday night, his gut (and mine) say wait one more day. I left home Thursday last week and today I accepted that I will not be back – and I will not see the Miracle Toddler or the LP again – until Wednesday evening. So it is.
The later-than-anticipated transfer time meant the LP would be travelling back solo (as would I) as he has a work commitment he cannot change further (he already changed it to be able to come to the transfer next Tuesday). Oh well.
Then something much more serious happened. The LP injured his back very severely. Even on muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory medications, he can barely move. This has never happened before although he has been having muscle spasms in his back this year. The suspected source to date has been stress and the strain of a desk job under high tension. And possibly a lack of consistent exercise although the LP does curl and plays hockey nightly with the Miracle Toddler when not disabled (no hockey today or last night!).
The prospect of air travel and sitting in airport lounges for 8-9 hours on Monday and the same on Tuesday night with a severely injured back makes me wince. The LP was determined to come notwithstanding this latest obstacle but today we both agreed that this was a bad long-term plan for his physical and mental health and not likely to make me feel very good about asking him to be at the transfer with me.
In other news, the Progesterone In Oil (PIO) is kicking my behind (literally, because you know that is how I roll). Dr. Braverman’s nurse taught me a new trick about heating it immediately before drawing and administering it and so far this has meant no lumps or bumps because the oil is thinner and moves more easily as I inject it and after having done so. I don’t so much mind the needles going in. All of that I can manage and would not even blink or complain. The pain I have for about 24 hours afterward at the injection site on the other hand… that is not pleasant. I feel as though I walked into a sharp object and gave myself a mother of a bruise on each flank. I will take the PIO over Prometrium any day of the week but I hope I find some better spots on those flanks soon or I will be a walking wincing wimp in short order.
On the eve of Canadian Thanksgiving, I am struck by how much I have for which to be thankful.
In the present moment, I have been truly moved by some phenomenal events so far on this week’s stint in NYC. First, I met a friend and fellow RPL sufferer from Canada and her partner for whom I have developed a lasting affection. Together we briefly met with another blogger who happened to be attending a conference in NYC this weekend. That was intense. I don’t think I could have attended that conference. Yowza!
I have been awed by the kindness and generosity that some truly amazing women in New York have shown me these past few weeks. I am humbled and choking up a little as I write to say how honoured I am to have met you. These amazing women who I did not know a few short months ago have behaved as true, long-time friends do. You have checked in on me, met me to do things and welcomed me into your homes.
Friends, you know who you are. Please also know that you mean so much to me and I am so grateful for you helping me be and feel safe, comfortable, “normal” and less lonely in this totally abnormal, often lonely and anxiety-provoking process. What you have done and are doing means so much to me. Thank you.
And to everyone who has wished me well, followed along, worried beside me, shared this journey and hoped as I have hoped for you that things will one day work out as we long for them to do: thank you. A toast to each and every one of you, my friends. Please accept my heartfelt thanks. We truly are an amazing group of female creatures. Yay us. Yay you.