If you've been keeping track, I've somehow managed to go over a full week posting about things that have nothing to do with the 800-pound gorilla I've been lugging around for the past few weeks. That's right, a full nine days has passed with nary a mention of my FET, scheduled for a week from Wednesday.
This is not to say that it hasn't been on my mind. It has, a lot. The hubs and I have approached the impending FET the way we approached my embryo transfer two years ago: by not talking about it at all.
Talking about it makes the situation real- both the possibility of it working, and the possibility that it might not. Each outcomes carries with it a full set of emotions neither one of us is equipped to deal with just yet. And at least as far as I'm concerned, I'm afraid if I make it real by talking about plans, and names, and sibling dynamics, and possible due dates, I would have a very hard time thinking back to this pre-transfer time of hope.
Up until about a week ago, I was feeling very positive about the FET. It wasn't so much that I had strong feelings that it would work, but that I was able to approach the impending transfer without a sense of panic.
But now? Those positive and uplifting feelings are gone, baby, gone.
It's becoming real now. I'm not just popping pills, injecting myself, and getting injected with this far-off-in-the-distance transfer date circled on my calendar. My ultrasound to check the state of my uterine lining is this Wednesday. The transfer is a week from Wednesday. And now suddenly, I'm thinking about the thaw (How many will survive? What if none survive?), the quality of the embryos (Are they fragmented and therefore poor quality? Will Assisted Hatching work like it did last time?) and the agonizing 12-day waiting period until my bloodtest (How can I possibly take it easy when I'm lugging a 21-pound toddler up, down, and all over creation all day long?).
So I'm stressed out, and worried, and thinking in Worst Case Scenario terms. If it doesn't work, we're back to ART square one. ART square one costs a lot of money. A LOT. And while trying again with a fresh IVF cycle is something we will find a way to do, I know now that I will be quite devastated if this FET doesn't work. Embarrassed as I am to admit this, because I am so incredibly lucky to have my daughter sleeping upstairs as I type this, the loss of her potential sibling will crush me.
This is not to say that it hasn't been on my mind. It has, a lot. The hubs and I have approached the impending FET the way we approached my embryo transfer two years ago: by not talking about it at all.
Talking about it makes the situation real- both the possibility of it working, and the possibility that it might not. Each outcomes carries with it a full set of emotions neither one of us is equipped to deal with just yet. And at least as far as I'm concerned, I'm afraid if I make it real by talking about plans, and names, and sibling dynamics, and possible due dates, I would have a very hard time thinking back to this pre-transfer time of hope.
Up until about a week ago, I was feeling very positive about the FET. It wasn't so much that I had strong feelings that it would work, but that I was able to approach the impending transfer without a sense of panic.
But now? Those positive and uplifting feelings are gone, baby, gone.
It's becoming real now. I'm not just popping pills, injecting myself, and getting injected with this far-off-in-the-distance transfer date circled on my calendar. My ultrasound to check the state of my uterine lining is this Wednesday. The transfer is a week from Wednesday. And now suddenly, I'm thinking about the thaw (How many will survive? What if none survive?), the quality of the embryos (Are they fragmented and therefore poor quality? Will Assisted Hatching work like it did last time?) and the agonizing 12-day waiting period until my bloodtest (How can I possibly take it easy when I'm lugging a 21-pound toddler up, down, and all over creation all day long?).
So I'm stressed out, and worried, and thinking in Worst Case Scenario terms. If it doesn't work, we're back to ART square one. ART square one costs a lot of money. A LOT. And while trying again with a fresh IVF cycle is something we will find a way to do, I know now that I will be quite devastated if this FET doesn't work. Embarrassed as I am to admit this, because I am so incredibly lucky to have my daughter sleeping upstairs as I type this, the loss of her potential sibling will crush me.
I was wondering how you managed to not post about the FET for one whole week... I have been thinking of you.
It must be incredibly hard not to think about what you would do if it did not work, or all the ways it would not work and there is no way for me to tell you NOT to think that way given I am sure I would be exactly the same way.
I would never tell you to "think positive thoughts" or any other such nonsense. You have to feel what you feel. Besides, you have a great community of support full of people who are pulling for this as well and thinking tons of positive thoughts even when you have doubts. I know I will be on the edge of my seat all of March 5 and all during your 12-day wait, sending you all of my positive thoughts and energy.
I do believe this will work.
Hon, I don't know the pains of infertility. But give yourself a little slack over wanting more than one child. The presence of Isabella doesn't negate the burning desire a woman has for children, no matter how many she may already have.
I've been thinking of you, and hoping for an incredible transfer, and then, implantation. Good luck, hon...
I've been thinking of you. Especially this morning, as I drank some coffee. Not trying to rub it in - I'm in such admiration that you gave it up, especially since it seems you had quite the hardcore habit.
I think it's normal - now matter how much effort, now matter what the means - to want a sibling for Isabella.
This is so amazing even as a weird sort of spectator ... I can't imagine what it must be like for you. I will be thinking positive thoughts for you ...
I can't imagine going through what you're doing & NOT being anxious! The waiting is the hardest part, as Tom Petty says... and he's right!
Sending lots of good thoughts & prayers your way, Kristi...
Fingers crossed that all these worries are for naught!
How can you not worry, it's the nature of the ART beast!?
Hang in there . . .
while I delt with infertility and somehow got lucky with having Lore- in doing nothing to get her I know I'm lucky... I can't imagine doing what you are doing... it was part of the reason why we weren't going to try that or drugs... we just didn't think we were lucky... Lore proved us wrong... but I will be praying for you and your family!!
I've never been through something like this but when anxious about anything - my thought is try to just take one day at a time.
I'm praying for you, rooting for you, and doing anything else you want me to for you!
Don't be embarrassed to admit how very much you want another child. It does not in any way diminish your gratefulness to have your child. I think in some ways, once you experience that incredible maternal love, it can make you even more desparate for more. I suffered from infertility for years, and I am now lucky enough to have 4 wonderful children. My life would not be the same or as rich were it missing any one of them. That is defnitely a fact. good luck with your journey.