And that's that...

I received my final update for this cycle.

Of 13 eggs retrieved, 12 were mature. Of those 12, 9 fertilized. Of those 9... one blasocyst was good enough to freeze for future transfer.

I don't think I need to explain how devastating this is to me. Every fiber of my being is screaming that this is a futile effort... a waste of time and money and energies I am just no longer sure I have. I still have one, this is true... and maybe it is that one which will give us the blessing we desire... but, based on past efforts, I can't hold hope for this.

I have no prospect for a job. I have no savings. I have nothing which makes this seem like a worthwhile endeavor to continue pursuing. And this is such a horrible and hard decision for me to make.

I have locked comments on this for a reason. Please do not call or email or message me about this right now. I do not wish to talk about it and I need to move past this on my own.

And the wait continues

It looks as though we're not going to do a transfer this cycle. My body is sort of ok with that... I think I need a little rest. But I'm still a bit disappointed. Even though we seem to have nine fertilized embryos, not all of them are growing as fast as they should. Which doesn't bode well... this is a trend we've seen in my previous cycles and each time it makes me a little more convinced that maybe this just isn't meant to be.

The embryologist who called today said they'll check again tomorrow and will freeze any they get to blasocyst state. I don't know when that means I'll have an actual transfer, but we'll see.

Research shows sometimes doing a frozen cycle over a fresh cycle is more successful. I have yet to find an answer as to WHY that is (though I keep looking). The only thing I can think is that with a frozen they have a better idea of the actual quality. /shrug

At any rate, I do need to consider how long I keep this up. I don't want to give up, but the realist in me keeps saying maybe it's time. And that breaks my heart to think about... that the realist is speaking from purely a financial point of view instead of the hopeful side of me who will keep trying until the doctor says it's over.

13.
Unlucky? Or SUPER lucky? I guess we'll see. Today's retrieval saw 13 eggs... the most he's gotten so far. It came at a price to me... in order to get so many my insides weren't treated very kindly and I'm in more pain than I have been previously during this procedure. But, if it works... it's all worth it. Still not sure if we'll actually do a transfer this cycle or if he'll freeze whatever he gets. The decision will likely be made near the end of the week as he sees how things progress.

I really could use a Christmas miracle right now after the news of being passed over for the job here in Pennsville. Please let this be that miracle...

Whew... almost there

I swear, the meds this time have made me dumber. A week of minor "stupid" culminated in a day of some major dumb. Let's start with the thawing of a roast for dinner. One would assume this wouldn't take a rocket scientist. Get roast from freezer. Place roast in warm water to thaw. Walk away from running hot water to accomplish just one little thing (that turns into several chores all over the house). Return to kitchen to bake...... why is the floor soaked all the way to the fridg... oh crap. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap. Rush to sink to turn off running water. Rush upstairs to grab every towel in the house to start sopping up mess. Sink still overflowing. Plunge hand into scalding hot water to unplug drain... this... this was unwise. Sit down, unsure of whether to laugh or cry. Opt for something in between. Read text from husband saying he's on his way home. Tell him that's a terrible idea. Have him text LOL at you. Give up. Go back to kitchen to try to clean. Figure out where all the blasted water is coming from. Realize your SILVERWARE DRAWER is full of water. Mop up / clean everything. Sit down for another laugh/cry. Continue cleaning. Have husband come home to tell you that you missed a drawer... but the house looks nice. Ponder NOT murdering husband.

And then... after all this... put dinner together. Still feel flusetered over flood fiasco. Put corn into microwave (after realizing there's not a SINGLE package of peas in the house which is what you REALLY wanted). Continue putting dinner together only to hear loud POP from microwave... realizing you didn't slit the package open like you're supposed to.

Realize that this week was a series of stupid and you can't wait for these meds to stop.

Pregnant or parental friends often use the term "baby brain." Let me tell you... "baby" has nothing to do with it. Hormones make us dumber; I swear this to you.

Tuesday is retrieval. Yay. Last shot tonight, blood work tomorrow morning and procedure Tuesday morning. Then I can rest. Still not entirely sure if we're doing an actual transfer this month or if he'll opt to freeze anything he gets, give my body a rest and transfer next month. Whatever. I'm too tired and done with being stupid for this month.

Moving along

I went in for my regular scan / blood work appt. this morning. The only other man in the practice (other than my doctor is Mark, one of the embryologists. He doesn't usually draw my blood, but he was there this morning taking care of things. He's always very sweet and has been there for every one of my transfers (I swear, like most of them in the practice, he takes each success and failure as close to heart as I do). We were chatting as he was drawing my blood and he suddenly looks up and greets someone who walked into the lab - Stephanie. Turns out, Stephanie sits down in the chair next to me and it's my regular OB/GYN.

First... this is the woman who referred me to this practice in the first place. So, to know that she was not only his student (he told me that at one of our first meetings), but that she's apparently a patient makes me feel even MORE happy with where we are. If she trusts him to take care of her, he must be good. He has confidence this will work eventually... so I have to keep the faith as well.

Second, she and I chatted a little about my cycles. And Mark commented that the success we had the second time was so disappointing when it started to fail because the embryos had looked so good. Any one who 1) remembers that much about a patient without a chart in front of him and 2) genuinely seems to care so much as to be visible disappointed.... this practice is what all other doctor's offices should model themselves after...

Doctor came in then and wished me good morning and just had one of those caring looks as Stephanie, Mark and I chatted. He's not a man of many words, but you can just tell... the way he looks at you when he talks, touches my shoulder before a procedure to reassure me it will be ok... I know some folks might be offended by that sort of familiarity, but honestly, I'll take a doctor who shows he cares and is comforting over a brilliant doctor  with the bedside manner of a brick wall.

As I drove home, I started to rethink my earlier "maybe this should be the last" way of thinking... it's a hard decision to make every month... emotionally, physically, and especially lately, financially. How often do you keep trying for your dreams?

And I was overwhelmed with the image of me holding and kissing the forehead of a little baby...

Maybe it's a "sign." Maybe it's just more wishful thinking. But, if you're listening, God, I could use a little Christmas miracle this year...