I don’t know why it was that when I woke this morning I was feeling strangely optimistic. The 2ww was over and for a split second I wondered if I would need to crack open the full box of pregnancy tests that seem to tease and taunt me everytime I open the bathroom cabinet.
My optimism was short lived and so it was that I found myself 45 minutes later in Dr M’s waiting room. It was 6.15am and I was one of two women waiting which made me wonder if I’d get to spend more than 30 seconds with Dr M. And that’s a no. A fertility specialist he may be but you are in and out faster than you can say “that’ll be $7000 thanks” so you don’t go in with any expectations of chit chat. I of course don’t care for chit chat when we are talking about my ovaries but I’m determined this cycle that every time I see him I’m going to drag more info out of him. There’s no question he knows what he’s doing, he’s considered one of the best but he’s just not a sharer – he gives you instructions and you nod your head and you are on your way.
I was surprisingly calm despite my disappointment though this was relatively short lived. A busy morning at work meant I had to keep it together but by lunch time I’d lost it and maybe my morning injection had already kicked in because by the time I returned to the office after getting something to eat I had to redo my makeup. I was on the phone talking to a friend, having a mini meltdown. MM hasn’t been well this week and was consequently a bit flat and off his game. Shit timing I’d say because I wanted it to be my turn. I wonder if people walking past the lady in the street today who had tears streaming down her face wondered if she’d just had a “silly fight with her boyfriend” instead the reality was I was just so dejected that I had to face another IVF cycle and I was feeling sorry for myself.
The visit with Dr M was actually quite positive (all 28 seconds of it). Whilst he was disappointed that we only got one egg last time he reminded me that we do indeed make good quality embryos. I know alot of other IVF”ers would love to be in a position where they make good embryos and so I have to drop the pity party and be grateful for this. I am. We’ve started with a protocol of 450 iu GONAL which basically is a shit load of hormone to inject each morning. I shall stay away from sharp objects and annoying strangers for the next week. Scan next Wednesday to see how my ovaries are behaving. I’m considering sending them a warning letter to tell them I expect an improvement in performance but I’m worried that they’ll tell me to jam it altogether and well of course we don’t want that. So instead I shall encourage them with positive reinforcement, tell them that I think they are great, they have lots of potential and that I believe they can do it.
Here we go again, hold on tight everyone.