Deja Vue
I am back from retrieval and we got the exact same small number of eggs we got last time. Remember that surgery that I went through in September? What a fucking waste of time. Nothing was repaired and now I am not even having a single more egg than last time. And my doctor who gave me a 99% probability that he would be there for the egg retrieval? Nah, didn’t make it. Got my “favorite” again. Dr. Insensitive. I am sure my blood pressure shot in astronomical heights when I realized this. I am probably reacting like a little child, stomping feet and all (I actually don’t care), but I feel rather deserted by my regular doctor.
It’s not time to give up. There may be embryos, there may be good embryos, there may still be a transfer. But, god, I am bitter and angry about all that I have to go through. And please, don’t give me any BS about this. If you’re one of my friends in RL who thinks that I should carry my infertility with more grace and acceptance (because there could be worse fates, which is true, no doubt about it, though all the while thinking of conceiving your own third child, because you know, they are so cute), just leave me alone. Who knows, I might re-emerge as the perfectly little sweet darling you expect me to be. And if so, you should probably thank my ADs.
And the sweet medial assistant who waited with me while Mr. H got the car? Well, it was the one who assisted the ultrasound, in which Dr. Insensitive started talking about donor eggs. And sweet as the medial assistant may be, while we were waiting she inquired further about my thoughts on…..donor eggs. WTF. I didn’t reply. I was afraid I’d scream my head off and/or start verbally insulting her. I kind of expect the regular world to exhibit this level of infertility sensitivity (“have you thought of adoption yet?” “No, tell me, what is that?”) but not the staff of a fertility clinic. It should be a BIG no-no for them. People, my reproductive system is quite challenged, as much as it makes me sad I am not delusional about it, but last I checked my brain was still functioning at (at least) average pace. I get it. Really I do. Donor eggs is on your minds (maybe has been there for a long time), IF this cycle fails. IF, people. IF!!! So until then, please, be so considerate to not voice your thoughts. It’s everything but helpful.
Julie over at “a little pregnant” recently wrote something about hope and optimism, that they are NOT the same. And I agree. I hope, against all crappy odds. I hope. I hope for this one fighter embryo that has an incredible urge to live. A fighter embryo, that is willing to take the chance on my crappy uterus in the hope that his/her life outside of it will more than make up for it. I am hoping. SO MUCH.
And I promise that I will do everything that I humanly can to make the 9month stay in my uterus as optimal as can be with me. I promise. And if it means that I get gestational diabetes again, and it won’t leave after the pregnancy is over, so be it. I will gladly take diabetes in exchange for a healthy baby. If it means that I lose my uterus (and ovaries, and cervix) at the baby’s birth, I will not cry but be overjoyed that my uterus was able hold on. If it means I have to go on bedrest for most of my pregnancy to get my healthy baby, so be it. It’ll be million times better than the alternative. If it means I have to deal with objective tinnitus again, that won’t go away after the baby is out -like last time-, so be it, too. It may drive me crazy at times, but that, too, will be so much better than NOT having you, my second child, in our lives. I promise, my fighter embryo. That I promise. And so much more.
Okay, ‘nuff of the venting. I need to think good fighter embryo thoughts now. May there be divine goodwill for them and lots of it. Please. So, chant with me, lovely internet, if you please, “this IVF is going to result into a healthy, live baby!”