No news is just no news

Clearly, I am not pregnant.  And I love the nurse for believing me when I talked to her the day before the beta, instead of scolding me for giving up hope or whatever.  I had a phone consult scheduled with Dr D for this past Friday, only to be later told he was in surgery all day and couldn’t commit to a time.  The time he COULD commit to turned out to be 1:15 on Sunday afternoon…the first time in 48 hours I let my phone out of my sight/range of hearing (it was Sunday, for crimenys sake!  seriously.  I was shopping).  So he left a message, just completely standard…sorry your fet didn’t work, you seem to have none left, if you want to go ahead with a fresh, call my nurse and my office and we’ll get you on the calendar, same exact protocol, call if you have questions…right.  Like I’ll get ahold of him.  It would be easier to reach Barack at 1600 PA Ave. 

Here’s my thing.  We go same protocol?  I’m two years older.  Getting up to that magic threshold of (shhhhh, 3-5).  Will same protocol be okay?  And no need to check out my utes, give it the all-clear?  And what about my slightly elevated tsh that nootherdoctorwouldthinkishighbutthisonethinksistoohighandneedstobecontrolledwithmedication?  I’m just so nervous.  Last chance at a fresh one (gulp).  I had told T earlier this year I was okay with that, I am and can be happy with my family the way it is right now, hell, two years ago I was convinced it was never going to be this.  A truly is my miracle baby.  But now that it is approaching…the door is going to be closed for good, and I am sad (I obviously talk like it won’t work.  See previous post about 20 embryos, 2 children, and understand my thoughts).  I understand that every family comes to a point where reproduction stops…but in more cases than not, the FAMILY decides to end the reproduction, the REPRODUCTION doesn’t end the family.  Big diff.

I also found out this week two good friends are expecting next summer.  One has a son that is two days older than A.  She is so damn fertile, it is mindblowing.  But I love her more than life, so I can never be anything but happy for her.  She is the type of person who DESERVES fertility, whatever that means (this of course implies I don’t?).  So while I am thrilled for her having #3, I am also slightly jealous (which I freely admit to her) because clearly, I want to be in the same position.  But I’m not.  And then I think about all of the amazing people I have met through my infertility journey and I think SHUT THE HELL UP C there are so many people out there still that don’t even have what you have.  So it’s a freaking back and forth in my head, all day long.  What is that they say?  The heart wants what the heart wants.

Sooooooo…to summarize my cycling future: I am on the co culture waitlist for January.  If I dont get in then, I get in February for sure.  If all goes well, I respond as expected to drugs, etc etc etc…best case I will be cycling end of January, next case I will be cycling end of February.  Two cycles timed as such have brought me my sons (and a third a double-miscarriage–but still a pregnancy).  Luckily, I have a few weeks off to just enjoy Christmas with the amazing family I have…and really, I can.  The place I am in now, compared to where I was two years ago… the difference is inconceivable.  No pun…intended.

Am I up for one more wild ride?

You bet.  P is four, A recently turned one.  I am ready to ride the infertility-coaster for another go (or few) at it, but there are some stipulations put in place by the husband (after all, he’s lived with my all sorts of crazy since we started trying to have a baby back in 2006…and even though Crazy C has hibernated for the past 15 or 16 months, she’s ready to come out for one final roar.)  So husband’s stipulations are as follows: 1. we are done trying by the end of 2012. 2. If we are going to do a fresh cycle at all, we do it in the beginning of the new year.

My feelings on the above are varied–while I am ready to put the Life of Fruitlessly Trying behind me, I am also so damn stubborn and determined that I think, “see, you didnt ever really quit when you were trying for number two.  Does number three deserve any less effort?”  But I also want to keep the peace and happiness we have now found, and I don’t want my family unit to suffer unnecessarily.  I am on board to go for a fresh cycle as soon as possible (just need to talk to dr, etc etc).  Of course, I need to wait a few days because I am at the end of a busted frozen cycle–two more transferred in and nothing of it.  Bringing the grand total to…twenty transferred, two children.  So, with my stellar math skills working overtime, it seems I am working at 10%.  Good grief, Charlie Brown, that sucks.  Can’t call the dr now because beta isn’t until Tuesday (no, I am not wrong and pregnant like I was last time.  I am not.  you’ll see).  Anyway, don’t want to be a total loon too early, so will talk to them on Tuesday when they call with my beta results and ask about getting fit in for coculture, finish up necessary bloodwork, etc etc.  (Oh, another wrench into the mix…elevated TSH.  So an effed up thyroid.  Have been on the meds for about six weeks now…we’ll see what it does.  Other than give me heart palpitations).  So maybe I can do a fresh in January/Feb, then clean out the freezers over the course of the year, and then, throw in the needle.  Man.  I was so hoping that the transfer of our two bestest frosted embryos would be the break of a lifetime, but no dice. 

Oh who am I kidding.  I am trying to keep in mind that I shouldn’t plan…we plan, God laughs, and all that.  Though I don’t really think he laughs, because that would be kind of mean.  And quite unGodlike.

So I will plan…and likely my plans will be upended.  But I want to try again.  I have some fight in me to try again.  I look at my great boys, how far I have come, this insane journey, and I think, yep, I would do that over again if I knew it would get me here.  So now, I will get back into my crazysuit and hold on for the duration.

 Back in the game.  But playing only for a limited time.