(Hi there if you are here from ICLW! If you're looking for background on us and our story, feel free to visit the tabs at the top of this page. Basically, my DH and I are headed towards IVF #1 for baby #2. Infertility sucks.)
This week has been tough. MBL has been in Belgium for work. He left Sunday afternoon and he doesn't come back until late this evening. I had to work two ten hour days this week on top of taking care of Piper. And I am on lupron. I'm in a fragile state to say the very least. The last three days have involved a lot of crying.
It all started on Wednesday when I had my baseline. My last antral follicle count was 21 back before my February cycle. The nurse on Wednesday was supposed to do another count and when I asked her how many she saw, she shocked me by saying "8". I didn't pay too much attention while she was doing the scan, except when she pointed out that I have two cysts on my right ovary, so I have been left wondering how my count be only 8. She was supposed to measure all of the follicles that were between 2-8mm. She told me she saw 4 on my left and 4 on my right. That doesn't even begin to make sense to me. I saw more than that for sure. Did she just count the bigger ones? If my antral count really is just 8, that's bad. Like heartbreakingly bad. I still have options and, obviously, my count has fluctuated from month to month, but my time is clearly running out. I was questioning the ultrasound all the way back to work. If MBL had been there, he would have been able to affirm the fact that she didn't count what she should have or that he saw more, but because I was alone I have no idea if my gut reaction of "that isn't right" is accurate.
I've spent the last 48 hours reeling. Trying to figure out what this all means. Wondering if my cycle is going to be cancelled. Wondering how many eggs we'll get, how many will be mature, and how many will become embryos. I'm so worried about spending all this money on something that has no guarantee. The odds are in my favor. They really are. My chances of this succeeding are still around 62%, but that number is still pretty far from 100%. I'm scared.
I told my mom and MBL that I'm dreading the next ten years. I think both of them were shocked by that statement, but that's how I'm feeling these days. I am BEYOND excited to see Piper learn and grow and change. It's amazing being her mom. Yesterday she mastered climbing the stairs in just two tries and I just stood there in amazement. I am excited to see how we grow our family. I can't wait to be pregnant again, to have a newborn again, to see all the "firsts" again. The truth is, though, that growing our family will not be easy for us. We can't just decide we want another baby and make it happen. We will probably have to do IVF multiple times and we will be lucky if it works with my eggs. We may have to look into donor eggs or donor embryos. None of this is easy, especially when I am surrounded by people who feel like they have the right to tell us to "just adopt" or "maybe this is God's will for you" or "just pray about it". Especially when those people just hop into the bedroom and nine months later have a perfect newborn. My point in saying the next ten years will be tough is that is, realistically, the amount of time I will be subjected to pregnancy announcements and people's insensitive comments. In ten years I will be 36 and most of my friends will be done building their families; MBL and I will (likely) be done as well.
In ten years I won't have to worry about how my babies are going to come to me because they will be here. And I am certain that I will be perfectly content with my family at that time. The journey to that point, however, will likely be full of emotions. I will have more BFNs, I will probably have more problems arise, we may have to face choices that we don't like... It is going to be HARD. And because infertility is something so many people just don't get, it is likely that I will feel judged for my choices, judged for having a DISEASE, judged for having my body totally betray me. And I am just so sick of the judgment and I still have ten more years to go!!
Don't get me wrong, I vow to enjoy this journey. I vow to love on Piper, to enjoy these little years. I vow to learn and grow from every obstacle thrown in our way. And I vow to educate people on infertility, even if it means opening myself up to judgmental and hurtful (awful) comments. I vow to make it to the other side ALIVE. I just don't vow that I won't cry or have bad days. And today is a bad day. Am I 36 yet :)?
When was your last bad day? How did you cope? I'm thinking I should buck up and put a few miles on my treadmill!