I.V.Effed: No Sex, No Lies, and No Videotape

Clearly my nervousness yesterday was for good reason.  I have TWO freaking lead follicles at about 14 or 15, and then three laggers.  I started the antagonist as soon as I got home as I happen to be a habitual ovulator (my own term: I can’t get pregnant, but come hell or high water, my ovaries are releasing an egg).   All of this sounds rather innocent, I knew the numbers were low, but they have always retrieved more than he saw (last time I think he counted 8, but they wound up retrieving thirteen).  The doctor then breaks into a very casual “We’ll have to wait and see what happens in order to see if this cycle is worth continuing.”  WTF????  I kind of blink a few times, and then try to match his nonchalance  (very hard to accomplish naked from the waist down, half  sitting/half reclining, feet perched on stirrups ever-so-casually like a makeshift ottoman) and say, “What is the likelihood of that?”  He responded with, “I don’t know, we’ll wait and see and decide Friday.”

My tone remained somewhat light as I asked him what happens if we cancel, and he said we might try insemination.  Yep.  Like that would work.  Right. Then I point-blank said, “When the times comes, and if it is now I need to know, but will you tell me ‘C, your eggs are for shit and I think you need to look into other options.’”  Because everyone knows how much it sucks to hold onto completely worthless and false hope!  He reassured me (in his own odd way) and told me that my age is so much more important than the FSH.  (so then why am I IN THIS PREDICAMENT?  Why AREN”T I GETTING PREGNANT?)  Argh. Argharghargh.

I did wind up weepy as we finished the conversation, and after the doctor left the nurse handed me a tissue and said, “You’re doing a good job.”  I wiped my tears and thought that was the right thing to say.  No false hopes, no supersweet apologies, just some reassurances that I took to mean Overall.  As A Person.  I am doing a good job in this life.  (Probably a stretch, but it’s what I needed).

When I called my husband on the way home I realized for the trillionth time how different this whole infertilty business is for us.  He said he was sorry, and told me that since we have one cycle left to complete, we could convert this one and do the cycle next month and if I am a poor responder again, we’ll just say the hell with it and go in and get what’s there.  But he doesn’t understand the FEELINGS.  He doesn’t understand what this does to my heart, to my mind, to my dreams.  I still have the dreams of a family.  I still have the dreams of feeling a baby inside of me.  I still have these hopes and desires and dreams, and they are on my mind all the time.  Not just when I am at the doctor or doing the nightly injection, but all the time.  Mid cycle or no cycle.  All the time.  And he doesn’t understand.  I told him I would “take what comes” this time around and just be matter of fact and realistic about it.  The joke is on both of us, I guess, because that’s just.not.me.  I can’t even FAKE that very well.  Which  makes it so hard to go through this together, because I know infertility has shaped the person I am.  The two of us went through some other struggles early in our relationship (me: health-related), and I am so grateful he stuck it out.  He could have left.  But he stayed.  That shaped and affected us.  And now infertility has shaped and affected us.  I KNOW there are other stories out there of greater tragedies and couples who have endured so much more.  But right now, I am hurting a lot.  And again, I only know my pain.  And my pain is raw today.

I am not looking for sympathy or words of hope that I shouldn’t think of it as over, that there are still two more days, that stranger things have happened, etc.  I just needed to write down that I am so sad right now.  Sad and hurt and tired of this.  Because I know that tonight I will still take my shots, I know that the day will come to an end, tomorrow will come and then go, and on Friday we will know our (immediate) future.  And I will get to that day and I will even have happy moments up to that appointment, (crap!  have to have a root canal finished right after the RE appt.  Can you think of something suckier than that?) and I will be okay.  But right now, right this very second, it hurts.

Update: In case anyone is a numbers-follower, my E2 was 766 today.  Lotta good that does me.

Also, forgot to mention a superembarrassing thing that happened on the drive to the RE this morning:  I was crying to a song on the radio.  Something about the climb up the mountain being the hard part (a little foreboding, it seems, in hindsight…)  And then.  Found out that friggin miley cyrus sings the song.  That made me want to cry even harder.  Because what makes a 16 year old wise to the ways of the world?  I told the nurses today, and joked that my E2 better be high to explain such behavior on my part…

In: September 09 | | #