It’s a deep, deep well

So, up until I went to my afternoon appointment to start the third – and I believe final – round of IVF, I had been feeling really positive and even… dare I say, happy. I was actually quite proud of myself and my new-found “attitude of gratitude.” (I can’t actually believe I used that phrase – I am such a dork!)

I was inspired by a story I remember hearing a long time ago about Dolly Parton on a movie set (Steel Magnolias?) Whatever the movie was, it was being filmed in sweltering summer heat & humidity and the actors were spending long days on set – sweating, overheating, and complaining about it all. One of the actresses noticed that Dolly hadn’t complained at all and inquired as to why. Dolly reportedly responded, “I dreamed my whole life of being here and now that I am, I’m not going to complain!”

It occurred to me that the same principle applies to my undergoing IVF. Yes, it’s stressful, expensive, invasive, painful (on so many levels)… but that’s not all it is. It is also something that allows me to have hope, make informed decisions about my body, and to some degree control over my reproductive journey. If I didn’t have my father’s financial help, there would be no way in the world that I could pay for it out of pocket at this point in my life. That’s something for which I am deeply grateful. In fact, the more I think about how many women find themselves mired in infertility without the benefit of at least trying IVF, the luckier I realize I am.

This realization brought with it a serenity that I had not felt in some time.

For better or worse, I am lucky to have the opportunity for IVF #3. While I have no control over the outcome, I still have a tremendous appreciation for the journey…. Which is why it completely took me by surprise that I was overcome by the same heavy sense of grief that I felt at the beginning of IVF #2 almost immediately upon leaving the clinic. The light, happy feeling had gone and in its place was the all-too-familiar well of sadness. It was all I could do to not burst into tears as soon as I got into my car. But, why?!?

Is the sadness itself an omen that things won’t go well this time? Was I reacting to the fact that my RE was in a bad mood today and didn’t treat me warmly like he did last week? Maybe it was a delayed reaction to him telling me that I might not qualify for the FDA trial because I didn’t have enough antral follicles developing? The study requires a minimum of 14 antral follicles and my RE only counted 10 – which he told me, for the first time ever, is an indication of how many follicles I’ll produce this cycle. Gee, you think I could have used that information last time? Okay. I think I’m onto something here. I think that’s when the sadness kicked in. It’s kind of like knowing right in the beginning that your chances don’t look good. And with two failed cycles in my back pocket and no lottery winnings to pay for countless IVFs… maybe this is the end of the line for my childbearing efforts? No wonder I felt sad!

Well, source of sadness demystified! But what now? Do I believe him and accept what he says about my body as true? Or do I shrug it off and continue the optimistic course, believing that my energy affects my body and that absolutely anything is possible? I don’t know. I know what I want to say… but I don’t know what I’ll actually do. I’m really wishing now that my husband were home and not working a late shift tonight. I need my best friend.