Friday, January 6, 2012

Picking Myself Up

Last cycle was hard.
Really hard.
After my blood test came back negative I pretty much went into hiding. I was withdrawn and anti-social throughout the holiday festivities. It didn't help that AF came on Christmas day. I was so upset that it hadn't worked... again, that I became convinced that it was never going to. I was ready to throw in the towel.
When the RE's office called with my results, the nurse had told me that my doctor wanted me to come in for a consult before we started the new cycle, but there were no appointments until January 3. That was another blow since I was sure that my doctor would tell me we need to move to IVF, and having to wait almost two weeks for the appointment was a killer.
Patrick has been wonderful these past couple weeks. I have undoubtably been a nightmare, but he has given me space when I want it, comforted me when I need it, and been compassionate, loving, and patient through it all.
I definately went through the five stages of grief. I know some would say that I'm being overly dramatic, putting too much into getting pregnant, but those of you that have battled infertility understand how I'm feeling.
Denial- even though I was getting negative results on my HPTs, I still kept expecting it to be positive the next day. I got a negative the day of my blood test but still told myself "Oh, the blood test will be positive!" Hell, even after the blood test told myself it could have just been late implantation and that I'd get a positive later.
Anger- I woke up Christmas morning to cramps and blood on the toilet paper. Seeing AF instantly made me mad. I was mad at my body for disappointing me again. Mad at the doctor for not upping my dose like he said he would, resulting in only one follicle when I would have had a much better shot with two or three. Mad that it was salt in the wound to get my period on Christmas day when the ONLY thing I wanted for Christmas was to be pregnant. I was mad for days. I stopped taking my vitamins, didn't care what I ate or drank, all because "I'm not pregnant anyways, what does it matter?"
Bargaining- this was a quick stage, but probably the one I'm most ashamed of. I do my best to keep my faith in God, but during this phase I did try to bargain with Him. I promised to be a better Christian, to go to church more, that I would take the baby every Sunday, that I would make Patrick go, ANYTHING if I could just be pregnant. Worse though, was when I turned off my Christian music, which I find comfort in, and didn't want to be thankful to Him until I got what I wanted. The realization of what I was doing sent me straight into the next stage.
Depression- I cried. I cried a lot. More than a few times, on my way home from work, I would be driving with tears streaming down my face for nearly the entire 45 minutes it took me to get home. I broke down at work one day, but luckily nobody was there to see. I cried to Patrick one night, maybe two, but I tried to keep my pain private because I didn't want pity. I didn't want anyone to know how deeply affected I was this time, but I'm sure Patrick knows. My depression moved from crying to not caring. I got drunk two nights in one week. I'm not talking tipsy, I'm talking sloppy, slurring, swaying drunk. I don't drink. My "crazy" nights have a 3 cocktail limit. I haven't been drunk like that in YEARS! But, "hey, it's not like I'm pregnant."
Acceptance- Tuesday morning I woke up excited... And sick. I caught some crud that's going around and I had been achy and feverish on Monday, transitioning to feverish, ear aches, full sinuses, a sore throat, and a cough on Tuesday. But our appointment with the RE was that day and I was excited to go. Excited to move on.
At our appointment the Dr asked me how I was doing, emotionally. I told him the last cycle was hard, and that I was frustrated that we were only getting one follicle, but I was ready to start again. He agreed to be more aggressive and said that he felt comfortable doing two more cycles of this. Then he mentioned IVF. I asked him if it would be possible to do a shared cycle, where I would be paired with a woman needing eggs, we would share the expense, and I would donate half the eggs retrieved to her. Doing a shared cycle would solve my two biggest issues with IVF: the cost, and the fact that I don't want a bunch of frozen embryos that we might not ever use... But I'll go more into that later.
The Dr told us that they hadn't done shared cycles before, but that the issue had come up and that he would try to get approval for us. We should know sometime next week. This has given me so much hope! I had thought we were reaching an end to this journey... Or at least a stop sign, but now there is a possible new road that could get us there even faster! And the thought of helping somebody else get their little miracle just fills me with joy. I feel like God is leading me to do this, and I have faith in Him.
I start my Follistim tonight... A higher dose to hopefully get some more follies! Patrick doesn't want me to chart or obsess this cycle, and normally I would have argued with that, but I agreed. If this injectable cycle doesn't work, we might try one more, or if we get approved for the shared cycle, we'll move to IVF, and just knowing there are more options for us gives me peace for this cycle, more than charting, obsessing, or testing ever could!
I have confidence again.

Thank you, God, for small victories.

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