Tuesday, April 25, 2006

No. 171 - When Is It REALLY Over?

I had every expectation that this IVF would work. All the "signs and symptoms" of success were layed out before us from the moment we decided to go for it. If the first IVF led to, at the minimum, a chemical pregnancy, then the second IVF should get us through a viable pregnancy. For some stupid reason I looked at IVF #1 as a practice run, and anything subsequent should have a better result.

My cycle before IVF #2 was textbook and I felt my body had come back to me from the first IVF debacle.

We evenly spaced the repronex: 1/2 in the a.m.; 1/2 in the p.m.

Even though the number of eggs retrieved were marginal, I felt it was because my body was contributing to the quality, not the quantity. As you said, as I even said, it only takes one.

The transfer was smooth. The two 8-celled embryos looked "really good."

I had the acupuncture appointments, including the pre- and post-transfer treatments.

I had implantation cramps a day earlier than I did on my first IVF.

This was our last A.R.T. attempt, and everyone knows that when someone moves to their Last, they always get pregnant, right? Ha.

So when Saturday morning rolled around, even at only 7dp3dt, I had some expectation of what I would see on the EPT. When it wasn't there, I knew it would be there Sunday morning, and I would feel guilty showing up to the Confab in a newly pregnant status. I would be scared, but overjoyed.

But Sunday a.m. the test was negative...again. I cried the whole time I was in the shower at the realization that something bad was happening - or actually something good did not happen.

I managed to keep cool about the negative in front of the group and we all in some silent, wordless agreement, steered away from the topic.

When I got back to my hotel that evening, I tried to wash the worry from my brain by watching more TV in one sitting than I have seen in weeks, but by the time I knew I needed to get ready for bed, which included doing my PIO shot, my nerves were frayed and it all felt so fruitless. I almost did not do the shot, but did...just.in.case. I found it strangely ironic that there was only one prenatal vitamin left, and somehow I knew I would never have to refill it.

I called Mr. DD and told him how much I really missed him right then. My head was encased in doom and gloom and by the time I fell asleep, it ached from crying.

Monday morning around 5:00, I woke and shuffled into the bathroom thinking that if I finally get a 2nd line, it would not be a good indicator of a viable pregnancy as my initial beta had been so low on the first IVF and I had tested positive 12 hours earlier. Again, the test was negative. I called Alexa and left a message that I was going to go home as she had graciously extended her hospitality if I had needed it.

As I was getting ready to check out of my hotel, for some sick reason I decided to pull out the EPT from the trash and I was met with the evap line and I stupidly got a little bit hopeful again. On my way home, I stopped at a Target to pick up another 2-pack and became so impatient that at a gas station just outside of Small Town, I took one test in with me to the bathroom.

Negative.

When I got home, I was thwarted from posting when blogger ended up being down for maintenance and it was killing me to have what seemed like this stupid secret that I needed to get off my chest so I could begin to heal.

For those of you who remember my poll about SIF and how I could relate to any one of those answers? Well, right now there's only one answer: Infertility is Infertility and it fucking hurts no matter what and is capable of sucking your life and your soul into a vacuum.

The reproductive door has been shut to us for the last time. I will give the unused drugs I had left over to Suzanne, who I was supposed to meet today for lunch, which I postponed. I am in no shape to talk to anyone right now. Every recent comment and email has made me cry anew.

I will be closing some doors of my own over the next few weeks. Once we move, I will no longer have to look at X's room in it's baby decor. I am contributing some of X's best baby clothes to a fellow blogger. And finally, I will do what I have been putting off for almost 18 months: I will call my OB and find out the sex of Baby May and finally give my baby a real name, which will be one of the names we had been holding in our hearts since we tried getting pregnant again: "Mr. DD, IV" or "Vivienne Elise". I guess it doesn't matter anymore if someone "steals" the names for themselves.

28 Punches:

At 7:58 AM, Blogger Well-heeled mom said...

Oh, DD - you had to go and make me cry.

I want to adopt again. MFH does not. He thinks we hit the jackpot with one, and one is enough. We can give him great opportunities in life and get him to the college of his choice. See, MFH had a sister who got all the best opportunities and the college degree - so on some level I think this is where his reasoning comes from.

Last summer there was a garage sale. In it he made me put the changing table, exersaucer, infant seat, high chair...you get the picture. Oh, he pacified me by saying we could buy all new IF we decide to adopt again. But...I cried because I knew it probably wasn't going to happen that way.

I don't want my son to be an only child. I want him to have a sibling. I don't know when it's REALLY over.....

 
At 8:06 AM, Anonymous Molly said...

Oh, shit DD. I'm so sorry. We were all holding out so much hope for you.

Cry all you need to. Wish I could send you a mimosa in the mail.

 
At 8:09 AM, Blogger EJW said...

God, honey, I'm so sorry. It just hurts so much and you think it'll never end and nothing anyone says helps. I wish there were something we could do. If you need anything, just say the word.

 
At 8:52 AM, Blogger K&M said...

It sucks. I hate it for you and it really sucks. I wish I could help.

 
At 9:15 AM, Anonymous Leggy said...

I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry and I'm here for you. Know that we care, even if that doesn't do much to take away the pain you are feeling.

 
At 10:02 AM, Blogger scissorbill said...

Oh, DD I am so sorry. I hope you find peace.

 
At 10:09 AM, Blogger DinosaurD said...

So we'll hold hands for a while, okay?
My son and I looked at the pictures of your new house together. There is one picture where X (at least I think it's X) is walking on the outside porch and my son said "do you think that little boy would play with me?" (this translates into creating mayhem and running around a lot).
I wish I lived closer and we could unleash our sons together for a while.
I have so been where you are and I don't have any words of wisdom at all except maybe to say that eventually (eventually), it becomes slightly less difficult (though never easy).
Take care DD

DinoD

 
At 10:24 AM, Blogger Sunnie said...

I'm so sorry.

 
At 10:40 AM, Blogger Trish said...

I'm sorry too. I felt sure there was magic left at least in Nebraska. I know, as well, that it's gone from here.
Many hugs.

 
At 10:42 AM, Blogger Nico said...

DD, I am truly, truly sorry that this IVF did not work for you, and that it means you have to so radically shift your ideas about what your life was going to look like. I agree wholeheartedly with some of the comments on your previous post - take some time for yourself, plan a fun vacation - but let yourself grieve as well.

 
At 11:21 AM, Anonymous B. Mare said...

I'm so very sorry. My heart aches for you.

 
At 11:31 AM, Anonymous Andrea said...

I am so sorry; if you need to get away my door is always open.

 
At 12:25 PM, Blogger Stacy said...

What did the monkey say to the anteater?
Why the long face?

Dumb is good sometimes.

Who has a joke dumber than that?

 
At 1:17 PM, Blogger Cricket said...

My heart aches for you. You're so strong, you know you'll make it through. Sometimes, though, you have to pause and feel weak. And angry. You're doing a great job - the best you can. And I am so relieved you're going to reflect upon Baby May the way s/he deserves, too.

 
At 2:07 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I don't know you, but I am still very sorry. Good luck with this new part of your life.

 
At 2:11 PM, Blogger kati said...

I'm so incredibly sorry. I wish i knew better how to help you through this. It's a painful, painful time.

 
At 2:30 PM, Anonymous TB said...

I'm so sorry DD. There aren't enough words to tell you. My heart hurts so much for you. If you can think of anything I might do to help...

 
At 2:35 PM, Anonymous Wavery said...

Oh such heartache, I'm so sorry.

 
At 3:21 PM, Anonymous pixi said...

I'm so sorry it didn't work out. Very sad for you.

 
At 3:39 PM, Blogger Spanglish said...

Nurse your sorrow for as long as you need. Reaching this point is no easy feat. I wish it had turned out differently for you.

 
At 4:12 PM, Blogger Beth said...

DD, There are just no words. Please know you are in my thoughts.

 
At 5:05 PM, Blogger chris said...

I'm so sorry.

 
At 6:28 PM, Blogger Ornery said...

Damnit, damnit! I'm so sorry, DD. My heart is aching so badly for you.

 
At 6:54 PM, Anonymous Menita said...

I am so sorry. My heart breaks for you.

 
At 8:18 PM, Anonymous Mary Scarlet said...

DD, you're right, all infertility hurts, and it completely sucks, primary, secondary, whatever. Coming to the end of the ART (and therefore conception) road is really, really tough. I still haven't completely grasped it. Part of it is not knowing what to do next, but that's not all of it. I don't think anything is worse than that deathly feeling as you receive bad test results. I'm so sorry.

 
At 4:18 AM, Blogger Beagle said...

I am just so very sorry.

 
At 11:21 AM, Blogger soralis said...

I am so very sorry, infertility sucks!

Take care

 
At 12:19 PM, Blogger Chas said...

I can't imagine how you must feel. I am so sorry.

 

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