Finding Normalcy

I’ve spent a lot of time researching PCOS over the course of the last week, which has been an incredible eye opener.  I thought I had done a fair amount of research when I first started my IVF journey, but it turns out that was just the tip of the iceberg.

PCOS affects each woman differently.  Here I had been so convinced that while I had PCOS, my PCOS wasn’t “that bad”.  That’s not necessarily true; how my PCOS manifests itself is completely different from the next person.  My symptoms aren’t as visible as many other sufferers.  But they are most definitely there.

My depression, that seems to appear out of the blue.  My anxiety, that started rearing its ugly head in my late 20s.  The insomnia that comes in fits and starts.  The incredible fatigue that plagues me so frequently.  And my weekly headaches.  Here, I had been so focused on the visible symptoms of PCOS such as acne and Hirsutism; the symptoms I didn’t have.  “Surely, my case can’t be that bad, because of X, Y, Z.”  False confidence is a sonofabitch.

I came across a website in which a woman claims to have treated her PCOS enough to fall pregnant naturally.  While my PCOS isn’t the primary cause of our fertility issues, I figured trying to treat my PCOS and reduce my symptoms definitely wouldn’t hurt.  After all, our doctor said it wouldn’t be impossible to get pregnant on our own.  Not probable, but not impossible.  Cue my best Lloyd Christmas impression….

aa702842c77416a1e630d386827c1dbe6fc41526aa60717bff5260d7133fcc65

The more I’ve researched PCOS, the more enlightened I’ve become about the different  types of PCOS: Insulin resistant, immune related, environmental, post pill, or perhaps, even a combination of all four.  We know I’m insulin resistant, and one of the best ways to cure insulin resistance PCOS is to lose weight.  Well, I’ve lost about 25 pounds, and yet there’s been no real change in my symptoms.  I’m still regularly irregular.  I say that because I am fortunate in that I ovulate regularly, it’s just in an irregular time frame.  Women who ovulate normally typically ovulate every 21-35 days, whereas I ovulate every 36-42.  See?  Regularly irregular.  And yet, despite that, I consider myself fairly lucky.  There are some women who go MONTHS without ovulating.

Hindsight being 20/20, I’m not surprised that my menstrual cycle didn’t become more regular with weight loss.  I’ve always had longer cycles, regardless of whether or not I’ve been at the target weight for someone of my height.  So, there’s got to be something else that’s also affecting my cycle.

My next thought is that perhaps, my PCOS is the result of immune related or environmental issues.  As such, I have an appointment with an allergist today to get my first allergy test done in close to 30 years.  My mom has been pushing me to have an allergy test for quite some time, and now that I’ve hit my insurance deductible for the year, it seemed like a good time to do it.  YOU’RE WELCOME, MOM.

In all seriousness, my mom has been an advocate of allergy testing for years.  I was the child that was allergic to everything as a young kid.  I grew out of a lot of it as I got older, but I randomly break out in hives and rashes somewhat frequently, so it might finally be nice to see what causes these outbreaks.  It’s possible that an undiagnosed food allergy could be producing a hormonal imbalance, which could affect my cycle.

Finally,  I’ve joined a PCOS challenge.  It’s a 30-day challenge that teaches you how to treat PCOS with diet and lifestyle changes. It starts November 17th, and offers meal plans, recipes and shopping lists to help with the overall success of the challenge.  The best part is that the first 9 days are spent learning how to implement the changes.  The implementation of the diet doesn’t start until day 10, so I’ll still be able to get weird with some turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing on Thanksgiving.

I’m excited to implement these changes over the next few weeks to see if they make a difference. For some women, these subtle changes can result in immediate relief from their symptoms.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I end up falling in that group as well.

 

One Month Gone

It’s been a little over a month since we found out our IVF cycle didn’t work.  What a lonely month it’s been.

Our phones have been oddly silent since we found out.  Sure, there were the initial “I’m so sorry” and “we should get together soon” sentiments.  But those stopped a few days after we went public and we’ve been twiddling our thumbs ever since.  If it hadn’t been for both my best friend Erin and my sister being the driving forces behind our social lives these last few weeks, the loneliness of the last month would have been downright unbearable.

This post is not meant to shame anyone who hasn’t reached out over the last few weeks, but is merely to let you know how these last few weeks have been for us.  It seems that the most common reasons we’re hearing for radio silence are because people don’t know what to say.  Or they’re waiting for us to bring it up.  Or they figure we’ll reach out to them when we’re ready.  Whether people realize it or not, it’s those viewpoints that help to contribute to the shame we’ve been trying to avoid by making our story public.  The idea behind going public with our struggle was to normalize infertility.  We’ve been so open and honest about what we’re feeling and thinking in an effort to make people comfortable with the subject.  And yet, now that it didn’t work, it seems no one wants to talk to us.  While I’m sure it’s no one’s direct intention to make us feel this way, it feels like everything we went through doesn’t matter.  Our feelings since we found out don’t matter.  We don’t matter.

Imagine if you lost a loved one and no one was there to help you get through your grief.  Sure, you have a lot of  initial support after it happens and you feel surrounded by love in the days leading up to the funeral.  However, once the memorial service ends, most of those that helped you mourn your loss get back into the swing of daily life while you’re left trying to figure out how to live now that a piece of your heart is gone.    That’s how it feels right now.  We had so much support leading up to the day we found out the results.  After that, not so much.  While the grief of a failed IVF cycle is not the same as losing a living, breathing member of your family, it’s similar.

We went through a procedure that has the highest rate of return on achieving a successful pregnancy and it failed.  We had our dreams of having a child in 2018 all but destroyed.   Yes, we can try again, but we also have to entertain the idea that it just may never happen for us.  When you lose a loved one, most people don’t necessarily question what you could have done to keep them alive.  Yes, there are oftentimes things you wish you would have done differently, but you aren’t the reason they died.  In a situation like mine however,  I’m questioning everything.  Did we do everything right?  Could we have done more? Maybe if we would have been just a little bit skinnier or a little bit healthier.   Maybe if I would have been more concerned about eating organically or cut out coffee just a little bit sooner, the outcome would have been different.  All the shoulda woulda couldas are a little bit overwhelming at times.

If I end up being the only person you know that has gone through IVF and a subsequent failure, then I consider both you and your friends incredibly lucky.  It’s a pretty shitty thing to have to go through and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  But, if by some twist of fate, you have to watch someone else go through the pain and suffering of infertility, please remember this post, swallow your uncertainty and reach out.  It might seem like such a small gesture to you, but I can guarantee it will mean the world to them.

 

512c6b1ed965ab954c911b0b4cb8e86e--attention-quotes-joel-olsteen-quotes

 

The Follow-Up

We had a follow-up appointment with our doctor yesterday to discuss what, if anything, they noticed that would have contributed to an unsuccessful cycle.  I’m putting it quite mildly when I say I didn’t want to go.

It’s hard to believe that our cycle ended a little over two weeks ago.  It seems like so much longer than that.  The bruises, both physical and emotional, have faded and we’ve been so busy with getting back into the regular swing of things, that our IVF attempt almost seems like a dream; the kind of dream, or in this case, nightmare, that immediately fades from your memory the minute you wake up.  I wasn’t looking to relive that nightmare.

I know this sounds a little cliché, but I’m so glad we went.  We now have some answers and can use them to determine our next move.

First, the good news.

I responded incredibly well to the stimulation and our doctor said that it was obvious based on our testing, that we were taking the medications as prescribed.  It seems like that should be a no-brainer, right?  Dr. Corfman said we would be shocked to know how many couples do not.  My endometrial lining was also right where it needed to be; ready for implantation.  My uterus was healthy, my fallopian tubes clear.  And my eggs were great.

Women are born with all of their eggs.  Sounds crazy, but it’s true.   And naturally, as we age, so do the eggs.  As the eggs age and are introduced to illness and toxins, they become abnormal.  For a woman my age, it’s expected that 40-60% of my eggs are now abnormal.  There are a lot of other factors that go into egg abnormalities, but it’s not uncommon that when couples suffer from infertility, it’s because of egg abnormalities.  That was not the case with us.

At our retrieval, they extracted 25 eggs.

20 were mature enough to be used for IVF.

19 were considered healthy enough to fertilize.

12 fertilized normally.

Those are incredibly good numbers.   This means my eggs are on the higher quality end of my age bracket.  I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief.

However, as Dr. Corfman stated, that means the sperm are the problem.  Yes, Lee’s sperm are a little lazy.  Or as Lee put it, the good ones are like gingers with blue eyes; incredibly rare.

This might sound odd, but to me, this is great news.  It’s so much harder to work with bad eggs than it is to work with a lower quality sperm sample.  And his motility hasn’t always been as bad as it is now, which tells me that if we make some changes, we can get back on track.  We can work to fix his sperm quality.

I’m not going to lie; he’s going to hate it.  No more processed foods, no soda.  Just whole, organic, hormone-free foods.  And I’ll be pestering him to hit the gym with me again.  It’s not going to be easy, but it to boils down to whether or not he’s willing to incorporate lifestyle changes to increase our chances of making our adorable, incredibly rare, blue-eyed ginger baby dreams a reality.  And while I know my husband might shed a single tear over saying good-bye to some of his favorite foods, I can guarantee that he wants this family as much as I do.  If there are things we can do to improve our chances, I know he’ll do whatever is in his power to help.

We’re still going to take the rest of the year to relax and enjoy ourselves, but there are plenty of positive lifestyle changes we can start working toward immediately.  Doing so will only make us more successful when and if we decide to start the process again.

Before I end this update, I want to personally thank Lee for allowing me to share our results from yesterday as well as our entire story.  It takes one hell of a strong man to not only feel comfortable with what I share, but to encourage me to do so.  You continue to amaze me every day.  ♥

1cc325efb9396dcb04e6f5132a9a8cb4--bestfriends-bff

 

The Elephant in the Room

There’s an elephant in the room that I had no idea existed until recently.  I thought I would address it so that people can stop feeling uncomfortable around me and my husband.  I can only speak for the two of us though.  Other couples struggling with infertility may be different.

We are perfectly capable of being happy for people who are pregnant.  If you want to post a cute picture on social media of some baby shoes or a picture of your dog with a sign saying they’re going to be a big brother/sister, I’m going to like it.  You deserve to have the love and support of all of your friends and family when you announce something so exciting.  You might want to refrain from posting ultrasound pictures, however.  Not because you’ll offend me, but because you’ll offend another friend of mine who firmly believes that uterus photos belong on your fridge and not on your Facebook timeline.

Our fertility struggles are no one’s problem but our own.  We’ve chosen to share them with you to raise awareness for something that affects at least 10% of all couples.  I’ve said it before, and I will say it again:  I guarantee that Lee and I are not the only couple you know that are struggling to start a family.  We’re not trying to make people feel uncomfortable or as though they have to walk on eggshells around us.  We’re trying to start the dialogue so that other couples feel comfortable discussing their concerns as well.  Infertility has been such a hush-hush topic for years now.  Many men and women had to suffer silently through their pain because it was not publicly discussed.  I’m trying to do my part, however small it may be, to change that.  But let me make one thing abundantly clear:  Our issues don’t stop us from being over the moon for any of our friends and family members that happen to be successful starting a family.  Please give us a little more credit than that.

I’ve been through far worse shit than infertility and I’ve survived.  No, you know what?  I haven’t survived.  I’ve thrived.  I will not let my fertility struggles define me.  I won’t let it define the relationship I have with my husband.  And  I would prefer if you didn’t define me in this way either.  I have a lot of things to be thankful for, the most important of which is the love of my husband.  If there’s an upside to all we’ve been through, it’s that we’ve developed a deeper love and appreciation for each other than we even knew was possible.  This latest setback may have bruised us a little bit, but we are far from broken.

Lee and I are going to keep living our lives, loving each fiercely, and hoping that our dream of starting a family eventually becomes a reality.  If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.  It won’t change the love we have for one another, or the excitement we feel for our loved ones as they start their families.

If you’re struggling with some form of infertility, do not be ashamed.  Know that there are plenty of people in this world who understand what you’re going through, and when you’re ready, share your story with the world.aa6172156fab1a5a0d2b82c2c0c32150

 

 

5d739d03cfeeba1d2ae7c5b57f6dab26

If hopes and prayers could make babies, with your help, I’d probably be on target to become the next Octomom. Unfortunately, it also takes a little bit of luck, and that is just not something I seem to ever have a supply of.  Our IVF was not successful and now Lee and I are at a bit of a standstill wondering what to do next.

There is literally no reason that anyone has been able to give us to explain why we’re having such a struggle.  Sure, I have PCOS, but women with PCOS get pregnant all the time.  It’s not an infertility death sentence.  And yes, Lee’s sperm count is a little low.  Not exorbitantly low!  It’s not like there’s just a lone sperm hanging out in each sample.  I have no blockages, a healthy uterus, two healthy ovaries, and my body responded amazingly well to all of the hormones.  Yet here we are again, staring down the barrel of another dashed dream.

So where do we go from here?  Good question.  We don’t know.

When we got that call that the transfer had failed, we sat down and attempted to work through our next steps.  We determined that it was best for us to just relax for the rest of the year.  Give my body and our hearts time to heal.  Beyond that, the rest is up in the air.

We’ll have a follow-up appointment with our doctor to discuss the cycle and see if there’s anything that he noticed that would warrant the difficulties we’ve been having.  Then we have to decide whether we have the emotional stamina to try again.  While the next IVF cycle starts in November, Lee and I have agreed that we won’t be opting to try again this soon.  From an insurance standpoint it would make sense, as we are only $3700 away from hitting our out-of-pocket maximum for out-of-network coverage, so it wouldn’t actually cost that much to try again.  That being said, while our insurance recognizes infertility and does cover the procedures once the deductible has been met, it’s only a $10,000 lifetime maximum.  Slightly more than half of one cycle.  If we’re not emotionally ready to try again, this benefit would be wasted.

So perhaps we try again in 2018?  The downside of this is that the cycle will be more expensive as my insurance deductible will have reset.  We won’t get the same break on medications as we did in 2017.  The upside is that it will give us more time to save to try again.  But we’re working on borrowed time.  Our doctor will not use sperm for an IVF cycle if the man is over the age of 42.  That means we have a little over a year to get pregnant or I can’t have Lee’s baby.  At least, not if I continue to see the same fertility doctor.

People have asked about donor eggs and donor sperm and whether we would be willing to try one of those routes to have a baby.  The answer is unequivocally no.  I don’t want just any baby.  I want to have Lee’s baby.  If I can’t have Lee’s baby, then I’m not interested.  I want a baby with his sweet blue eyes and devilish grin.  I don’t need to be pregnant just for the sake of having a child.  There are plenty of children in the world that need love and a good home and if it comes down to it, we’d rather adopt than use the eggs and sperm of people we don’t know.

So how are we doing?  As well as can be expected, I guess.  Yes, we’re sad and even a little defeated.  How could we not be?  Feeling like your body is broken is one of the most heart-breaking feelings you could ever imagine.  The one thing making it bearable right now is that despite our misfortune, we have a lot to look forward to this week.  Lee’s little sister is getting married and we’re both so very excited to be a part of her special day, surrounded by the friends and family that we love so very much.

We’ve also made some healthy lifestyle changes this past year.  I alone have lost 26 pounds since January 1st.  It would be incredibly foolish to allow this devastating setback to derail all of the hard work I’ve put forth this year.  If anything, it’s challenging me to keep the momentum going.  How will I do that?  Well, with the help of my best friend Erin, I will be focusing my effort on preparing for my first 5k this fall.  It might not sound like much, but I hate running, so this will push me to focus my efforts on something else for a while.

We’ve also got our London trip to look forward to.  We need it now more than ever.

We’ll be down and out for a bit, but we’ll get through it.  Because we have each other.  And as much as this all fucking sucks, there’s still no one I’d rather go through this with than my one and only.

I’m sure some of you might be wondering what you can do to help us heal.  I’m afraid I don’t really have an answer for that.  But I can tell you what we don’t want.  We don’t want pity.  We don’t want to hear about how you had a really hard time making this one thing happen at one point in your life, but how it all worked out in the end.  All we want/need from you is to know that you’re here for us, that you think it’s super shitty that our luck fucking sucks so bad and that if you could punch infertility in the face, you would.

Thank you for following our journey thus far.  It appears that it’s quite far from over.

 

 

 

24 hours to go…..

Tomorrow’s the big day.  Tomorrow we find out if our lives are going to change forever.

To those of you that have been involved in our journey, there are no words to describe just how grateful we are to have you in our lives.  And to those of you that have gone out of your way to check on us and let us know that you love us and will be here for us no matter the outcome, it’s meant more to us than you can possibly imagine.  These last two weeks have been teetering on the edge of terrible, but having your support has made it somewhat bearable.

Now comes the hard part:  If you’re planning on checking the blog this weekend for news on whether or not the transfer was successful, I’m afraid you won’t find it.  Lee and I are taking the weekend for ourselves.  I’ve booked a place on Airbnb that’s on a lake outside the cities so that Lee and I can just, be.  If we are pregnant, it’ll be a celebratory affair.  If we aren’t, it will provide a much-needed weekend to recharge and determine what we do next.

In fact, while I still plan on doing some writing, it’ll be a while before I’m ready to talk about how the transfer went.  If the transfer failed, it’s going to take a while to process that information.  And if it was successful, we’d only be in the first trimester, where a lot of things can still go wrong.  We’ve worked so hard to make this happen.  I hope you understand our need to take care of ourselves and our (potential) unborn babies before we broadcast the news to the world.

Until then, thank you again for your support.

timthumb

 

The Transfer

We had our embryo transfer this past Friday.  The transfer portion of this whole experience is WAY easier than the retrieval, let me tell ya.

For the transfer, we were brought in for intake, where the nurses had prepared a report card of sorts from our retrieval.  Of the eggs that were retrieved, 19 were deemed healthy enough to try ICSI.  12 had successfully fertilized and as of Friday, 12 were still considered viable embryos.  We were over the moon.

Then we were brought into the transfer room where we met with the embryologist.  She told us not to celebrate yet; the eggs weren’t quite ready to freeze yet.  She wanted to watch them for one more day as she was concerned about where they were in their growth stage.  This left me feeling a little dejected, but Lee remained hopeful.  After all, how could we have produced so many embryos just to have them not end up being viable?

After careful deliberation, Lee and I had chosen to transfer two embryos.  Best case scenario:  Twins!  Warmly welcomed second scenario:  One healthy baby!  Worst case scenario:  No baby.

The transfer itself was quick and painless.  Our doctor wished us luck, but told us to keep our guard up.  Even with everything going as well as it has for us so far, that still doesn’t guarantee a positive.  I tried not to think too much about the additional embryos whose fate was still undecided, but was still holding out hope that in the event that this pregnancy doesn’t take, we’ll have frozen embryos to try again.

Well, I just heard from our doctor’s office.  Unfortunately, none of the other embryos made it that additional day.  This is our one chance.

The silver lining?  They chose the two best embryos to transfer, so we remain hopeful that at least one of them will have the ability to result in a positive pregnancy.  We’ll know for sure on September 29th.

Please keep us in your thoughts.  I have a feeling the next 11 days are going to crawl by.

4e48a330df4408eb2b08a9627b7deaee--fertility-quotes-infertility-hurts

After the Retrieval

For those of you waiting who are waiting with bated breath to find out how many viable embryos we have:  I don’t have an update.  Sorry.

What I DO have is a transfer date.  It’s this Friday.

On Monday, I received an update from one of the MCRH nurses.  While she didn’t tell me how many growing embryos we had, she did tell me that we qualified for a day 5 transfer.

This is incredibly good news.  But before I get into how that happened, let me explain a little more about what happens post-retrieval.

Once the eggs have been retrieved, they meet the sperm.  Our doctor uses a procedure called ICSI (intracytoplasmic sperm injection) in which the sperm is injected directly into the egg.  Once that has been done, the eggs are incubated for a period of 16-20 hours.  It’s after this incubation period when the embryologist will determine how many of the eggs have undergone normal fertilization.

If few eggs have started the fertilization process, the embryologist will opt to do a day 3 transfer, the idea being that a woman’s uterus is a better incubator than the one they have at the lab.  If quite a few eggs have started the fertilization process, the embryologist will schedule a day 5 transfer.  This allows the embryologist to monitor the embryos more closely, and allows for selection of the best quality embryos; the ones they think will culminate in a successful pregnancy and live birth.

Day 5 transfers also have a higher success rate than day 3 transfers, thereby increasing our chances for the positive we’ve been waiting for.

The fact that we had enough eggs start the fertilization process to qualify for a day 5 transfer is fantastic news.  It also lends to the idea that we might have extra embryos left over after transfer, so if, for some reason, this round of IVF doesn’t work, we’ll have options for trying to get pregnant again.  Or, if this round of IVF is successful, we’ll have the opportunity to give this baby a brother or sister in the future!

Rest assured, once I know how many embryos we have, you’ll all be the first to know.  Until then, we’ve definitely got a lot to be hopeful for.

1835167-Leon-Joseph-Suenens-Quote-Hope-is-not-a-dream-but-a-way-of-making

 

The Retrieval

Yesterday was our retrieval day.  All the work we had done, all the shots, all the pills; finally, we were going to see if it had paid off.

On Friday night, at exactly 9:30 p.m. we took our HCG shot, quickly followed by what’s called the Lupron trigger shot.  The HCG induces ovulation, while the Lupron trigger, prevents ovarian hyperstimulation – a problem that often affects women with PCOS when undergoing ovarian stimulation.  Then, we waited.

Saturday was uneventful.  There were no shots to take, which was a nice respite after about a week and a half of 2-4 shots per day.  Mostly, I was tired and sore.  I could start feel my ovaries getting ready for ovulation.

Sunday morning, I had to be up by 6:30 to drink 16 ounces of water before the procedure.  By this time, my ovaries were so sore and I couldn’t stand up straight.  Our 8:30 appointment couldn’t come soon enough.

Once we got to Dr. Corfman’s office and got situated, they gave me some valium to calm my nerves.  I didn’t feel particularly nervous beforehand, but I cared much less after the valium.  Between my doctor and the nurses, they explained the procedure at length.  An ultrasound probe with a needle attached would go into each one of my ovaries to remove the fluid and any of the eggs that were floating around.  Dr. Corfman explained, that while each one of those follicles would contain an egg, only about 80% of the eggs on average would actually detach from the follicle wall.  He told us not to be surprised if we didn’t get the exact same number of eggs as we had follicles, but assured us that based on the number of follicles I had produced, he was confident that we would get some good ones.  He also assured us that we would know how many eggs were retrieved before we left the office for the day.  With that, Dr. Corfman promised Lee that he would take good care of me and we left to get started.

Once I was in the procedure room, the Fentanyl started flowing.  Dr. Corfman explained that they walk a fine line with administering painkillers with this procedure.  Naturally, they want you to have painkillers so that the retrieval isn’t too terribly ucomfortable, but the administration of the drugs can hurt the eggs.  They administer the painkiller right at the start of the procedure and will administer more as needed, but then it becomes a bit of a race against the clock before the drugs make their way to the baby maker.

I brought my phone into the procedure room with my “Chill the Fuck Out’ playlist ready to go.  The nurses laughed at the name, loved how family & friends had helped me to build it and asked for a copy.  They said anything on the playlist would be better than the terrible old country music that Dr. Corfman normally listened to.

When the procedure was over, Dr. Corfman brought me back in the exam room where Lee was waiting.  He had good news; the average number of eggs normally retrieved is 7-10.  My retrieval produced 25. Twenty-fucking-five!

We’re not out of the woods yet.  We won’t find out until sometime today how many are viable.  Given my age, on average 40-60% of my eggs are considered abnormal.  (Add that to the list of injustices in the difference between men and women)  Our transfer date is entirely dependent upon the number of viable embryos that we have.  It will be sometime either Wednesday or Friday this week.

Thanks to everyone that offered well wishes to Lee and I this weekend.  It means so much!  We truly felt the positivity surrounding us.  If you don’t mind keeping it up for just a little bit longer, we’d appreciate it.   We’re halfway there, but the rest of the way is straight uphill.  We’ll keep you posted as we know more!051a19d614fcc275750619005673277faefae1

 

 

 

 

 

Week 2

We had our 5th and final ultrasound this morning.

We had 16 follicles measuring at  15 or more, 9 follicles measuring between 10 and 15, and another 14 follicles measuring at less than 10, for a grand total of 39 follicles. Follicles generally need to be between 15 to 20 mm in diameter to be considered mature enough for retrieval.  My body has responded incredibly well to the stimulation and maturation drugs and there is a correlation between IVF success rates and the number of eggs retrieved, so we’re hopeful that these are all good signs.

Even with all the good news, there’s still a part of me that wonders when the other shoe is going to drop.

If my body is so primed and ready to make a baby, why hasn’t it happened yet?  Every month we tracked ovulation, every failed IUI attempt; why did we come up empty-handed each and every time?

My biggest fear going into this weekend is that they’ll retrieve my eggs and each and every one of them will be worthless.  And then what?  What’s our next course of action?

I know I need to be positive, and believe it or not I am.  I’m over the moon about our ultrasound this morning.  I am so excited that this is all finally happening.  Months of preparation and hard work are hopefully about to pay off.  But there’s a part of me that knows I also need to be prepared.  It might not work.  And if for some reason it doesn’t, I’m going to be more equipped to deal with it if at least some part of my psyche prepares for a negative result.

Tomorrow I’ll be taking an HCG shot to trigger ovulation.  Our egg retrieval will be on Sunday.  If you find yourself with a little bit of downtime this weekend, please send some good juju our way.  We’ll take all the positive vibes we can get.

 

positive_vibes_only_11x17_pink_grande