I am not one of those people who gets bothered by things that bother most fertility-challenged women.
I am not saying there is anything wrong with not wanting to hold someone else’s baby, not enjoying it when another co-worker is pregnant or hating Mother’s Day. That said, in the past, that just wasn’t me.
Then again, this is my second post about how this isn’t me in two weeks now. So maybe it’s growing on me.
But this much is definitely true: our embryo transfer was scheduled for Sunday.
And it hurts a lot more this year than in any other year since my mom passed away.
For awhile there, it was actually easier. Mother’s Day wasn’t a holiday for my mom, it had become a holiday for me — a woman trying to become a mother. And initially, the hubby would get me a small token gift.
His fear? That we would get pregnant between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, and I would get him something and always be one present ahead of him.
For the first two years we tried to conceive, he got me a little present, or we arranged a nice dinner, etc.
The third year, nothing. By then it was obvious this wasn’t going to resolve itself.
No plans this year — have to work — but it will be harder than it has been in a long time.
We do have a very large potential concern. Actually, potentially a couple dozen of them.
You see, in an attempt to keep the hubby’s swim team in competition form, we … ahh … had a lot of swim practice in the week prior to the cycle being canceled. Which is all well and good except for the fact that now we know I ovulated between 14 and 22 mature eggs.
Do the math. Basically a worst-case scenario IUI on steroids. This could end very badly. There is a very small likelihood that the worst could happen (even a small likelihood we could actually get pregnant with just one or two), but I’ll be breathing a sigh of relief when AF comes to visit this month.
For the record, by the time this math was done, it was too late to take anything to prevent multiple embryo issues. Wouldn’t that just be my luck?
And yes, my clinic mocked me for being afraid that I might get pregnant with some obscene number of embryos.
We haven’t spoken to our clinic yet, but we are going to try and shoot for an IUI. Figuring we don’t need to do anything until I get my period, we’ve got some time to wait.
That said, I’m quite glad we are not going to have a relationship with this clinic soon. We’ve had months worth of diagnostic treatment but have yet to actually receive any treatment that could help to get us pregnant: both the IUI and the IVF cycles were canceled.
I can’t help but think to myself — who in their right mind would stay with this clinic if they were paying out of pocket?
And no, to this date, no one from there has even said “Sorry.”
The best part? Here’s a snippet from my chat with the nurse after the cycle was canceled:
Kirby: So, is it alright for us to have sex?
Nurse: Why? There really isn’t any point in it.
K: No, I mean, not to get pregnant.
N: Oh, yeah. I guess. If you’re not pregnant now, you’re not going to be.
Amazingly, some of us actually have sex for reasons other than self-hating and shattered confidence in our own bodies.
And finally: thanks very much for all the kind thoughts and words. I appreciate them like crazy and hope that even if the blog posting drops off for a bit, that you’ll still come back and comment some day.