Same Difference.

July 10, 2010 at 9:31 am | Posted in Mythical #2 | 17 Comments

On the way to the RE’s office, I forgot which road we needed to turn down; so we ended up circling the block until we found the medical building again.

We joked that I had blocked it out.

But. I used the same bathroom that I used before EVERY one of my wandings before we went into the office.

They renovated the waiting area; it was smaller. And my favorite armchair, the one that was big enough to make you feel like you were in your own space, but small enough to justify sitting in it because you were only one person, was gone. I felt like I was on display, even though the girl next to me had her iPod on, and the guy across the room was absorbed in his computer screen.

The receptionist was wearing a maternity shirt, the beginnings of her belly poking through.

My doctor has put on a little weight and looks older. His purple shirt and lime green tie were as impeccable as ever, but his hair was a little more mussed. He told me I looked fantastic, that he loved my short hair, and asked about O. We shared pictures of our miracle son with him, and joked and laughed.

And he told us that he loved to see patients like us, who have made it to the other side. That it was rewarding for him to see how well we were doing.

He was as enthusiastic as ever when he told us about our two “gorgeous” embryos, frozen in two separate vials, waiting for us.

We were able to do my CD 3 bloodwork then because, well, it was CD 3. But they don’t do it onsite anymore – we had to go downstairs with the pregnant bellies and get our blood drawn there.

But my nurse H was there, and my doctor’s administrator was as droll as ever. H grew out her hair; but she was efficient, and we signed the first consent for the thaw cycle. We still have to get another signed and notarized within 60 days of when we plan on thawing the embryos, so we took that home and will deal with it later.

We got a lot of congratulations and smiles from all of the staff.

But. I was as nervous as ever when we were waiting to see my doctor. I tried to tamp the irrational panic from choking me by breathing and pretending to be involved in work issues on my blackberry.

I never wanted to go back there.

But our meeting was so different. My doctor didn’t even blink when I told him we were only comfortable with transferring one embryo because O was breech and little and early (though term). And when he told us we could start as early as August if it weren’t for the fact that we had to repeat some of the tests for insurance purposes, I told him that we were thinking more like September because I had a half marathon in the beginning of October. He laughed and told me that I made him feel old and fat. And whatever timing we wanted was fine.

And he nodded in agreement when I told him that I didn’t think I wanted to do another fresh IVF cycle. He said all the right things; that he thought our chances of a pregnancy were really good with a FET and he would understand if three fresh IVF cycles were my max.

And he didn’t blink when I mentioned that I was going to be 35 in November. He said that I still had time on my side, and given how great my ovaries responded even a few years ago, he had no concerns that they wouldn’t respond if I ever decided I wanted to do another fresh cycle.

I don’t. I know that things can change, and I suppose if J felt really strongly about O being an only child, I might consider it again. But I don’t want to do another fresh cycle. Ever.

So much the same.

But so different.

So J goes for his SA on Tuesday. I have a saline sono on Wednesday.

And then we have the clearance to do a cycle whenever we decide we’re ready.

Advertisements

17 Comments »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. I can’t help but be excited for you as you move forward with the RE. I also find it interesting how much your cinic has changed in a couple years of absence, but I recall how mine never seemed to have changed during the couple years of treatments. Personally, the only change I’d want to see is the receptionist who was a harpy on wheels.

  2. This is so exciting! I’m anxious and hopeful for you to get your FET underway.

  3. This is exciting! I know this process will be much less painful than last time, because you know what you are dealing with (and no fresh cycles, of course). Keeping my fingers crossed for you, whenever you decide to do it!

  4. Purple shirt and lime green tie?! That’s some combo.
    I totally understand going for the FET rather than a fresh cycle. I am excited for you.

  5. Wow, I had a knot in my stomach just reading this. That said, I am very excited for you. Given that I am 44, you do have youth on your side which bodes well for many things even if you decide not to do another fresh cycle.

    I will be anxiously waiting your continued news and supporting you when things get underway.

    BTW, did you see the front page of this week’s Time Magazine? The Only Child: Debunking the Myths. Interesting read:
    http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2002382,00.html

  6. Glad you took this step!

  7. Good luck!

  8. Great appointment! Will be watching with interest as the cycle unfolds. Sounds like the staff there are really caring, even if your favourite chair got ditched.

    Bea

  9. I can only imagine how tough it was to revisit the clinic…but you did it!

    I’m excited for you, as you start this leg of a new journey.

    Good luck!

  10. I’m excited for you, but wow, how strange it would be to put your feet back in the choppy IF waters. You have a good attitude. And can I say that I’m glad you’re only transferring one? ; )

  11. Lots of mixed feelings and memories for you – totally understandable. You are at a different “place” now but those feelings are still fresh.

    I am excited for you, too.

  12. Is it wrong to say I’m stressed for you? Worried? Not that it won’t work, but just that you’re heading back into it, just that I know that for me it’d all bring negative connotations, etc. I’m wishing you all the best with this, and I give you total credit for being able to go back. Some people might think I’m nuts thinking it’s that big, but to me, it would be.

  13. Going back there does suck. But it could be worth it, too.

    I hope the journey is short and the outcome is fantastic.

  14. I know that if I had to step back into the offices, I’d freeze with all those emotions…just like I did the first time. You are feeling normal stuff….

    but it’s also so exciting too…to know that you have a chance (or two if you need them) to let your body grow a brother or sister for O! and I will be sooooo excited for you. You know that.

    You’re stronger than you know…and I’m here cheering you on, holding onto hope..:)

  15. I know exactly how you feel. I never wanted to go back, either. After we transferred our remaining two embryos, I had a chemical pregnancy. The hope that was just enough to break me sent me back for one more fresh cycle. I just couldn’t have that almost pregnancy be my last try. So…. never say never 🙂

  16. Prayers for your journey forward.

  17. Oh, hon, that’s exactly how I felt going back. It was good, nauseating, and frightening all in the same breath.

    Good luck. I sincerely hope that one of those embryos is the path to a sibling for the marvelous O.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: