This last cycle began with a course of Femara, which did nothing for me, and the news that J’s Kruger results were really low. He began acupuncture. The cycle continued. I made appointments with the two potential clinics. The cycle continued. I ovulated naturally on CD42, after having lovely, well-timed sex. And we hoped. Hoped that somehow we wouldn’t have to go through with the consults, that the decision wouldn’t matter, that we would escape. Hoped that we would become that annoying urban legend that well meaning but clueless families and friends use to reassure infertiles - “I knew this couple that got pregnant on their last cycle before IVF!” But, no. I have my period. And we’re moving ahead with IVF.
It’s a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, I’m glad to finally be moving ahead with a plan. Given our combined problems, IVF/ICSI really is our best chance. I think we’ve found a clinic we like, with a doctor who didn’t seem phased by all of my questions, and a patient coordinator who seems, maybe, to have a sense of humor. We’re lucky to have the means to be able to do this - to look at the clinic options without regard for the financial considerations of one over the other, to have families who can support this financially and (if they can figure out how) emotionally. And I’m optimistic that this IVF/ICSI will do the trick for us.
But I’m also mourning the loss. Going ahead with this means acknowledging that we need more than just a little bit of help. That this conception is going to be a medical event (even moreso than it already has been). That we’re giving up control (not that we ever had it). I’m jealous of people who don’t have to go through this. I’m scared of what this will do to me, to my body, and to our relationship. And I’m not sure I’m ready.
I have been so consumed by this process for so long, and have put so many things on hold. And now, before we go ahead with this, some of those things need to happen. Things like finishing my papers and defending a dissertation prospectus. Things like cleaning the house. Things like reminding ourselves why we’re doing this.
Today is our fifth anniversary, and we’re not having a glass of champagne and a romantic evening and thinking that might lead to offspring. Instead we’re regrouping. We’re coming back together to remind ourselves of what’s really important. We have each other. We have a comfortable home. We have supportive friends. And we have an open door. We just need to step through.