Whew, it’s been a while. I went from posting that I never wanted a pregnancy anymore, to dashing off for another IVF.
I didn’t actually have a change of heart at all, honestly if somebody came to me the day before the IVF and told me I could choose between a pregnancy of a child that is genetically mine and an adoption placement, I have no hesitation in answering that I would go for the adoption 100 times over before anything else. It’s just that, well, adoption ain’t happening either. I had to do SOMETHING, and so I put myself back in the trenches.
I needed this IVF. I needed it to fail completely and wholeheartedly, the same way the other two did. I needed to put every last dream of having a little mini me and DH, fully to rest so that I could let go and move on. It started out the usual way, I was out of the starting gate like a 30 year old, stimming like nobody’s business on an extremely low dosage. After the usual million hours of research and decision-making process, FS and I had settled on an FSH only protocol, which can improve egg quality in ladies like myself who produce eggs like wild maniacs. Lots of follicles, it’s always fun for me that first week. I get to dream a little, I get to fantasise that there is no reason why this wouldn’t work. But this time I knew consciously that I was fantasising, I never once truly got my hopes up. 16 eggs retrieved, 9 fertilised. Every single last one of them fucked. Excuse my french for a moment if you will. But there ain’t a better way to describe it.
And here is why I needed this IVF so badly. On the day I saw the photos of those embryos, I knew something I had been in denial about before. I’ve had 43 eggs retrieved, with three extremely different protocols, and never even once a single normal day three embryo. They are so fragmented that you can’t even count the cells (and they always were but I somehow managed to convince myself this was happening to everyone and not just me). We still got 2 pre-blastocysts, but I knew it was time to put the fantasy to bed. It was sad and it was hard, but on a level I could finally let go.
I did question it a bit (because I must always UNDERSTAND everything), FS told me that he’s seen it before even in very young women. I had a really long CT scan procedure during my ICU stint, over two and a half hours from what I can see from the x-rays. It was an angiogram procedure to embolize a vessel, and the procedure saved my life, so believe me, I’m grateful that it happened. But the radiation I was exposed to may just have fried my eggs a little. FS was reluctant to comment, he said he wasn’t sure what it was but SOMETHING has damaged my eggs. His next suggestion is donor eggs, but the thought of another failure just makes my heart stop beating and the breath catch in my throat. Sure, I probably have a much higher chance of it working, but now we’ve established my eggs are useless, who can guarantee that the old uterus is in working order? Because it sure hasn’t shown any signs of it up to now.
We are reaching the end of a very long marathon. I’m the straggler at the end, crawling to the finish, desperate for this to be over. I’m so incredibly tired and broken, it’s a marathon that I never want to run again. We’ve decided give it until the end of the year for an adoption placement to come through. But then I so desperately want to move on, that the thought of a child free life has finally started to feel a tiny bit peaceful and relaxing. I’m starting to see a little light in that tunnel, only a sliver mind you. But it’s there. Anything is better than this.