An Update, Mostly to Torture Myself

On Monday things did not look good.  The docs had me come in Tuesday, which confirmed the not-good-newsness.  Wednesday didn't improve the news, but at least it clarified my options.

Each time I do this, something new is goes poorly.  In January, my body struggled to overcome the ganirelix, and I endured a record breaking 17 day stimulation. (In general, the antagonist protocol is thought to be smoother, but not for me.)  In March my response was much better with the lupron, so good that I decided to have only two embryos implanted instead of three.  In retrospect it was the wrong choice, but then things could have turned out the same way with three. 

Now, after several months off, my body is not cooperating.  It looks like I will cough up three eggs, or at least I hope I will.  I had a long talk with my lead doctor today, and this ever optimistic man said that if I wanted to go forward with a retrieval with only 3 eggs, he would support it. (Normally they like to see 6 eggs for a retrieval.) So we are going forward, knowing:

• the cycle could fail because the three eggs that look good on an ultrasound turn out to be not so great once they are outside my ovaries;
• the cycle could fail because none of the eggs is successfully inseminated; or
  
• the cycle could fail because not one of the embryos makes it the three days to 8 cell stage.

And, even if none of the above bad things happens, the cycle could fail because the embryos do not implant.  I know all about that; getting to the end with everything looking good, only to have it fall apart quietly and mysteriously during the two weeks between implantation and pregnancy test.

I know that there are so many things that could go wrong.  I assume something will go wrong.  Partially this is a rational assessment, but it is also self-protective. I need to help myself from having the hope that supports me just long enough to allow me to feel crushed by the negative blood test.

I am trying to hold on how I felt earlier this summer, when I knew it would be okay to have an only child. I am not a superstitious person, and I do not search my surroundings for signs or secret meanings. Despite this I can not help but notice that in the past few weeks I have reconnected with two old friends, both only children.  I have resisted the urge to ask them what it was like to grow up an only, what it is like now.  What that would tell me that would help me now, I don't know.  It is not important, I think. Rather than try to talk myself into why any outcome is going to be fine, I just need to get through the next few weeks. I can mourn when the time comes, but for now I just need to hold on. 

Tonight I took the medicine that will induce ovulation in 36 hours.

Tomorrow I do nothing. (Ok, not nothing, but after "don't blog about work" my second rule might be "don't blog about enemas".)

Friday morning I go to the doctor for the egg retrieval. I don't have much hope, but of course I have hope.  Otherwise I'd just walk away and wait for the doctors to refund me the money we paid up-front.
Wish me luck.  Just don't tell me you are sure it will work, please.