I’ve been quiet. Last time I posted was the day before our frozen embryo transfer. I’ve been quiet and dealing day to day with the anxious two week wait. Wondering whether that twinge may be implantation. Looking for signs and symptoms, and slowly going insane. Knowing there IS a little embryo inside me, makes it all the more worse than a two week wait where we’ve tried naturally. During a natural cycle, we probably don’t even get close to having an embryo developing and growing, and being INSIDE me! Now it is the day of the BETA HCG bloodtest. The day our two week wait will come to an end. Either a dead end, where our dreams will come crashing down on us once again. Or perhaps it may finally be the end of this bumpy 2 year infertility roller coaster ride and the start of a pregnancy. The beginning of our dreams becoming a reality. Today was the day we found out whether it’s a positive or negative….
The frozen embryo transfer went well. Thawed perfectly. Except, our embryo never divided overnight. Our specialist did explain that that wasn’t a huge concern as the embryos can sometimes take a while to get going and can be a little sluggish after being frozen, but I just knew from then that that wasn’t a good sign.
I did try filling my mind with positive thoughts during the two week wait. Our specialist told us that embryos from a pregnancy batch, usually result in another pregnancy. And couples like us, who respond to treatment quickly, don’t usually take long to get pregnant. And it seems after the last fresh cycle we did respond well, we got 10 eggs, of which 6 fertilised, transferred 1, got a weak pregnancy and miscarried, and got 1 to freeze still. So why wouldn’t this FET work successfully when you are told all these things? Deep down though, I’ve known this cycle wouldn’t be successful.
I had really hoped that Grandma’s recent passing would bring us some luck and good news for the family. But I got sick halfway through the two week wait. In the last week of school before the holidays, most kids were sick, sneezing, coughing and with snotty noses. There was no hope for this poor teacher, stressed from writing report cards, to not escape it.
Surely being sick wasn’t a good sign. Surely this FET would be doomed. I probably sneezed, blew or coughed our little embryo away. But then I googled it (stupid me), and having a cold during the two week wait can be a good sign. Your immune system focuses on attacking the cold rather than a little, inconspicuous embryo. So surely being sick would be a good thing? I’m pregnant surely?
But how can I? I haven’t had any symptoms. Some light twinges but that could be signs of an incoming period right? But my boobs are sore, doesn’t that mean I’m pregnant? I’m overdue for my period, surely this is it? But the progesterone delays periods… I never experienced any signs or symptoms last time I was pregnant and I WAS pregnant, even though it was just a weak pregnancy. So surely that means I’m pregnant again? And maybe all the herbs and supplements I’m taking are doing their job and masking any pregnancy symptoms. The different drug protocol this time of taking the progesterone pessaries, pregnyl and aspirin would surely help us to get pregnant? Surely it’s our turn. Surely it’s our turn to post a happy Facebook status announcing our pregnancy like everyone else has been of late? Surely it’s our turn to boast on Facebook about how good our life is, and throw it in other peoples faces for once? Surely it is our turn to be congratulated, for none of our other angel babies received any acknowledgement or stayed long enough for us to be congratulated? This has to be our time? We’ve just reached the two year mark of trying to conceive this month, so surely that would mean we’d be released from this hell?
How wrong was I?
Negative, negative, negative.
And once again, we are knocked down, into the deep, dark depths of nothingness. The place where our dreams are crushed and stomped on. Sure, we will eventually get back up, and our dream will be re-ignighted, but each and every time it gets so much harder. How long do we keep putting our life on hold for? How long do we put our other dreams on hold for? How long do we continue working our arses off to save every penny for treatment? How long do we continue flogging our bodies with this emotional challenge? I know I’m not willing to give up on our dream just yet, after all, I’m not 30 yet, we’ve only been trying for 24 months, and only done 3 attempts at IVF. Some people have been at it for far longer than us, and remain persistent. So why shouldn’t we? But man, time is starting to tick away, and so is the rest of our lives. Truly over it. The commitment that goes into doing IVF treatment for us is gruelling. The travel, the days off from work to attend specialist appointments. The sacrifices. And to have it all go down the drain once again. Yes we will try again, save up some more money for the next global cycle, and I will gear myself up for some more humiliating, invasive procedures. But that’s what we need to do if we ever want real babies, not just fur babies.
At least this time, we don’t have to tell many people that we’ve failed once again, as we refrained from telling many family members or friends about our attempt. Deep down though, I wish we had just some support. On a brighter note, we also don’t have to watch the minutes tick by, waiting for a miscarriage to eventuate like last time. A straight negative is much easier than being told the pregnancy is weak and you’ll miscarry sometime soon.
This weekend we’ll spend enjoying a coffee, naughty food, and doing activities I couldn’t during the two week wait. And mostly we’ll enjoy some time together wrapped in each other’s cuddles, comforting each other. And then we’ll get over this knock back once again and start preparing for yet another try at this cruel game.
I’m sorry you couldn’t continue to grow and thrive inside me little embryo. Yet another loss. Another failure. And an empty bank balance once again.