As I said. F. My. Folilces. Earlier this year, I had no idea what the hell an ovarian follicle was. I now despise the word.
I write from my office. Sunglasses on, not kidding. I can’t stop crying. I am angry. I am crushed. I am every negative emotion you can think of. Our ultimate dream of becoming parents seems like an impossible feat. I do not wish my worst enemy the pain of infertility. EVER.
We have put our lives on hold. We have made countless sacrifices. I have committed my body physically. We have committed an exorbitant amount financially. We have committed even more emotionally. We are invested on all aspects. This is not fair.
16 pills a day. Appointments with my chiropractor and fertility acupuncturist like clockwork. Green smoothies each morning. Overloading on berries, nuts, and avocadoes. We haven’t touched alcohol or caffeine in three months. My body is good condition. I have refrained from getting in a pool, hot tub, or the ocean. I have turned on fried foods, trans fat, carbs and so much more. Our schedule has been dictated by this freaking IVF calendar. I had two “last trips” to St. Louis. We have been unable to travel. We have missed out on events.
We have been overtaken by infertility and the repercussions that come with it. I feel a massive desire to live life in fast forward. But, then I realize I am wishing my life away. We are only here for a small time, and I really want to be someone to take advantage and LIVE each day. It is hard, VERY hard.
I am so looking forward to being pregnant. I am even more excited to be a mommy, and I absolutely cannot wait to see Chris be a daddy, my parents be grandparents and my siblings be aunts and uncles. We are ready to meet our baby, but this process is dreadful. Our lives have revolved around an IVF path and plan for too many months. I wish for this nightmare to be a faint distant memory. I know that when I eventually look into our baby’s eyes… that’ll be the day! The pain will likely be gone, but never forgotten. Chris and I both know that one day…it will all be ok, but it is just so hard to imagine.
The drive to RPMG was painless. I had my soothing chamomile tea, and Dave Matthews Pandora station blaring on the radio. I really love Dave. I felt ok!
Today was considered my Stim Day 5 appointment. We had to wait a bit for Dr. F which was unusual. Normally I am quite pessimistic, but today I was hopeful. I could share all the details discussed in our recorded 20-minute conversation, but will keep it brief.
The two dominant follicles on the right grew more, measuring 18 and 20mm. The ones on the left didn’t grow as much as Dr. F would have liked. Today she saw seven follicles in total, compared to 10 Monday. In a perfect world, all would be close to the same size. Initially we felt Dr. F wanted to keep the train moving. We told her to take money and emotion out of the equation. And after us further interrogating and asking her gut feeling…she finally succumbed. She doesn’t see this as an ideal cycle. She thinks next time could be better. We will have a follow up call with her at 3p today to let her know of our decision.
- Stop medications today. Cancel this cycle. Wait for my period to come in about 3 weeks. Then start birth control and testosterone for 3 weeks. Then Stim meds for 10-ish days. Then retrieval. So that would be in about two months. Another whole IVF cycle two months after that. And HOPEFULLY a potential transfer two months after that.
- Continue meds, come in on Sunday for a follow up ultrasound to check on the growth. She believes we would see continued growth on the right, and maybe not as much on the left. With that said, we would really have to pick an ovary to work with which would be the one with more follicles. The left has 5. This could mean maybe four eggs, which could then mean maybe one or two embryos if we are lucky. We know it only takes one, but we also need to be realistic.
Chris and I hugged in the room. He is always so great at trying to console me, but it is really tough in moments like this when we are both at such a loss. We moved on to blood draw #21. I almost prefer this part of the appointment compared to the ultrasounds now.
We left the office and had a brief discussion on a decision in the parking garage. We talked through it and will go where our heart is leading. We have to look this from all perspectives and what makes most sense on all levels. We are leaning toward option 1.
Chris held me, and gave me a kiss. He is so sorry for my pain. He wishes he could take it away. We both are devastated, deflated and entirely dejected. Of course Chris being the positive person he is, said I am so so sorry. One day soon you will be the most amazing mother. We both believe that time will come, and hopefully once we are there, we will look back at these miserable times as a faint distant memory that just helped us get where we were always meant to be. Parents.
The crying headache has kicked in. Emotional and hormonal maybe, but I believe any human would feel this way.
Who knows what this holding pattern will consist of for us, but I will be sure to keep all of you right along side. Your encouraging words, never-ending love, and constant support will pull us through.
Wishing everyone a nice weekend 🙂
Sometimes the best thing you can do is not think, not wonder, not imagine, not obsess. Just breathe, and have faith that everything will work out for the best. – Robert Tew