Go day

That’s what my donor coordinator said to me when she called today.

“Hi Cracked Eggs? It’s me, Carrie from Dr. Magic’s office. It’s go day!”

She went on to inform me that she was in the ultrasound with the donor (how sweet of her) and there were 24 good sized follicles and several small ones so tonight is trigger, with retrieval on Friday morning.

24 good sized follicles. I thought my vagina was going to fall out of my body when I had 16 follicles, this girl must be miserable (and she is chasing two year old twins). My coordinator assured me she was ok, but ready to be done. I can’t blame her. Yowza.

Go day. No more Lu.pron. Progesterone starts tomorrow. Transfer is a week from today. And beta day? The day before my 40th birthday. The day before I wanted to be done with this roller coaster of a mind fuck. Last year, I wrote this post on my (not remotely anonymous blog, please don’t out me if you know me now).

Lines

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. When I turned 30, I was hit with a vicious case of baby fever. Wicked. I always thought I’d want to have kids, but this was visceral. S2, at 28, wasn’t ready, not remotely. I tried to tell him that it’s not like the day we decided to start trying there would be a baby living with us, we’d have time to get used to the idea. He insisted he wasn’t ready, and that he needed time. I was happy to comply, as I wanted him to want to have a baby just as much as I did, but I told him time and again that I just didn’t want to be 40 and pregnant. He would laugh and laugh, dude, you’re only 30.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. I have decided that if I’m not pregnant by my next birthday I’m done trying. I may be done trying before that, but that is the line I have drawn in the sand. I know plenty of people who get pregnant and have babies at 40 and well into their 40s, I’m just not sure I want to be one of them. I really wanted to be done having babies at 35, but then my first one took 3 years to make and well… we’ve officially been trying to make another for about 2 years, so one more year is about all I can give.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. I recently had an annoyingly bad outbreak of eczema on my face, mostly around my eyes. When it finally cleared up, I looked in the mirror and realized I had the beginnings of crows feet sprouting beside my eyes. Laugh lines. Wrinkles. Map of your life. Whatever you want to call it, it’s a reminder that I’m getting older. Mostly I don’t mind, except I really want to be pregnant again and when you’ve got aging ovaries AND the demise of your youth written all over your face, well it’s a bit disheartening.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. Among the lines I’ve drawn in the sand, I have decided that I will not be doing another IVF. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that last year we transfered SIX embryos to my waiting uterus, and that we have nothing to show for it. I have a sharps container filled with hundreds of syringes that have all been in some part of my flesh. I just don’t think I can do it again. Think. Yes I’m aware of the contradiction I’ve just made, because someone in this house is still willing to do another, but he won’t push the other person unless she wants to. And right now, she doesn’t think she can even consider it. Honestly, after last summers miserable failure I just don’t think I can put my heart out there for another one. So yeah, IVF is off the table.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. Next weekend, I am going to the beach. alone. for 3 nights. alone. I’ve never taken a solo trip that wasn’t for work. Since having a child I’ve hardly had any time alone that wasn’t spent cooking, cleaning, working or thinking about cooking, cleaning, work or the child. The purpose of this trip will be to rest, relax, rejuvenate and to really spend some time with myself, and my thoughts. My therapist challenged me to actually turn off my phone and internet for 24 hours, but I’m unsure I can do it. I mean, I can be offline, easy peasy… but be offline and be completely alone? That might be a ticket to crazyville. I may be the most introspective person on the internet, but to just be with myself and my thoughts? CRA-ZEE-VILLE. Don’t worry, I’ll take a xa.nax with me to the beach.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. Not that I’m counting. And I’m stepping back into the ring. We’ve called our RE and had a consult and discussed options and reality and autism and the likelihood of success, and we’re stepping back into the ring. I don’t think I’ll be posting the details for public consumption, but if you are the praying sort, or the chanting sort, or the good vibes sort, just send them my way. If it works, I’ll give your God, Goddess, or Deity some sort of offering in your honor. Truthfully, I find this exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Part of me actually believes it is going to work, and part of me thinks it’s an exercise in complete futility, but I can’t move on just yet. There is a plan, and a timeline and a line drawn in the sand. We’re just not there yet.

I am 39 years old and 2 days. I have 363 days to get pregnant. Not that I’m counting.

Right now, I am 39 years old and 348 days. I have 17 days to get pregnant. Not that I’m counting. Hopefully I will start this next year with another line. Two, to be exact.

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~ by zeneggs on July 28, 2011.

2 Responses to “Go day”

  1. I am so excited for you!! 24 eggs! 4 was as many as I ever got, That will give you some beautiful embryos. I am trying not to add exclamation points on every sentence! I will be thinking of you over the weekend, when will you know the fert report?

  2. ❤ ❤ ❤

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