The Stroller

Well first, my calendar appointment went off without a hitch or a tear.  I did so well.  It was almost just an ordinary day.  As the nurse took my blood she said "You must be so numb after going through all this."  I replied.  "Yes, numb days are the good days.  I like numb".

Last year, as I embarked on my first FET after having my son I found a great deal on my dream stroller.  The Britax B Ready double stroller with 15 different configurations.  I thought it was a great idea because it was perfect for twins, or for babies 2ish years apart like mine would be.  So I was covered no matter the outcome - except for the outcome that actually happened.  The stroller ended up up sitting in its box collecting dust in my spare bedroom, the one that had been where my twins would reside.  So unused stroller, sitting in empty bedroom for a year, and still not even a pregnancy in sight.  Every time I walked in that room I'd see the stroller in the corner.  I'd give it the slit eyes and walk out.

For my own emotional health I decided to sell the stroller to my sister who is having a baby in just a few weeks.  (Days apart from one of my prospective due dates.)  She had had a miscarriage with her first pregnancy which was really, really sad.  It was a blighted ovum and she was nearly three months along when she finally started bleeding.  She called me in the middle of the night from the ER.  The ER doctor had done an ultrasound and found nothing.  NOTHING, and began to treat her as though she were crazy.  They insinuated that perhaps she had imagined she was pregnant.  She said "No, I was just with the OB last week.  Call him."  Upon confirming she really did have a whopping amount of HCG in her urine they were incredibly apologetic.  (Morale of of the story - same as I have always preached - regular doctors know NOTHING about pregnancy, OBs know NOTHING about infertility.  Beware.) 

My sister does hair, so I got a couple years of cuts and colors out of the stroller swap.  So no babies yet, but my hair is lookin good.

Will Seven Be My Lucky Number?

I am headed in to have a water ultrasound and receive my calendar for my 5th fresh IVF today (plus two FETs = 7).

I began my subconscious, yet ritualistic reading of fertility blogs yesterday, the re-hashing of past woes, and my assessment of both my mental state and outcome probabilities. 

All of this mental preparation is in hopes of having a smoother ride each time I do a round.  The reading (crying) over blogs yesterday was in hopes of getting the sadness out of my system prior to my calendar meeting.  I've had epic weep-fests in front of the nurse at the last two. At the others  I at least made it into the car before catastrophic meltdown commenced.   Strangely, these meetings (which often don't even involve shots or medical evaluations) are the toughest I face in each cycle.  There comes a point each time as I  contemplate my new calendar where the grief surges up from my stomach to my throat and nearly chokes me - I am not being metaphorical here.  This really happens.  I think my body physically attempts to vomit out the pain.

This appointment is the hardest because I am acutely reminded of how terrible this really is, and as I sit in a shell-shocked state the little voice inside me screams "Why are you doing this again!"

I'll have to mentally rattle off as many answers as I can to that question over the next few hours.  For now, the quick answer is I am hoping seven will be my lucky number.