Tuesday, April 2, 2013
I can’t believe I am going to do this again. Three years ago I predicted I would never do another fresh cycle, much less two.
Everyone has lots of opinions about this. They range everywhere from “Why don’t you just give up?” to “Have you thought about adoption?” to “Of course you’re going to do it again, you’ve gotten pregnant twice!”
Ultimately, the only opinions that matter are mine, my husband’s and the doctor’s. And honestly, once the doctor says ok, sorry honey, but my opinion weighs more heavily than yours does.
After our last experience I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I mean two miscarriages is hard to overcome. I had to consider my physical health, my mental/emotional health and our financial health.
Yes, we received some help from my family last time. But, we have been at this for 9 years! That is staggering to me. Anyway, 9 years of fertility treatments aren’t cheap.
Well as you know if you read this blog, we received a grant from University Hospitals that will pay for everything but the medication for a fresh IVF cycle.
So, that took the financial bit out of the decision making equation.
This was a blessing, but also a little….I don’t know how to put it. I kind of felt at that point that I didn’t really have a decision to make anymore. Since I received the grant, I HAD to move forward with another cycle. And yes, I probably would have, and yes, it is great to not have to worry about paying for it. But, it feels like that accelerated the decision for me a bit. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. Truth is, I don’t know at this point.
So, today I went in to meet with the doctor and review the last cycle and inquire as to what would be done differently this time.
Last night on my drive home, I started to feel the old familiar pangs of anxiety. You don’t have to be a genius, or even a psychologist, to understand that yesterday’s pangs were very much tied to today’s visit.
Todd couldn’t go with me today. As I drove alone, I blasted the radio in an effort to drown out the voices in my head. (Ok, that just makes me sound crazy, huh?) Pulling into the parking lot I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.
Riding up in the elevator, I was grateful for no other passengers; they might have wondered at my deep breaths. Stepping off the elevator and walking down the very short, very beige hallway, I felt light-headed, like I could pass out.
The last time I had been here was December 7, 2012. That was the day I had my fourth ultrasound and was told there were no heartbeats. That was the day they walked me over to the hospital portion of the medical facility and admitted me for surgery. That was the day my embryo(s) was scraped out of me during a D&C.
That was the day my happy died.
And now I was back, in that place, ready to subject myself to it all over again.
I won’t try to convince you I’m not crazy, because given all this, maybe I am. But then again, maybe I would be crazy not to try again.
So now, I wait. Once my period starts, which should be in the next week or two, I will call the doctor and we will be off and running again.
I know you’re not reading this in real-time, because I don’t want to publish these posts until we have gone through this cycle, but please, pray from me.