Therapy. And Stopping the Madness.February 3, 2011 at 9:24 am | Posted in Crazy Talk (aka: Therapy), IVF #4: I'm STILL doing this? | 9 Comments
I had my first REAL appointment with my therapist last night.
(Despite the fact that we were snowed in enough that I wasn’t about to drive to my clinic for my beta, I was most DEFINITELY going to see my therapist. Luckily the roads were okay by 4pm or so and it wasn’t an issue getting there.)
Last week she had me sit in a chair, facing her. Seriously, it was the same chair I have in my office AT WORK. I mean, it was a consult, and free, and I figured out I didn’t like it because when I came out of the meeting I felt like I had just failed a job interview for “talking too much.”
So this week, I used the couch. Looked at the wall. And she sat behind me so I didn’t actually SEE her.
Such a freaking stereotype.
(Funnily enough, she told me that I was fine to keep my shoes on when I was on the couch. I told her I wouldn’t really be comfortable with that, since I really cannot abide by shoes on our couch at home. So I took off my shoes, which made me a LOT more comfortable. I know there’s a note in my file about that.)
But man, it was EASIER to talk this time. Without feeling like I was talking too much.
We did, however, talk too much about IF. I really didn’t WANT to, but I had to explain some things to her, and since I was having such an issue with my sister, which has to do with her picture-perfect IVF cycle, I suppose it makes sense that we talked about it a lot.
But you know, I think she gets it. Sort of. Because at one point, when we were talking about cycling, she said: It seems like so much. Draining, but seductive, too.
Totally true. Because if THIS cycle doesn’t work? Maybe the next one will.
And you end up in the rathole of 4 IVF cycles and 5 FETs, with only one live birth to show for it.
(Yep, I counted.)
(But hey! It’s a live birth, right?)
She did ask me why I was so strong on being done. And last night, I couldn’t really fully verbalize it.
But it really has to do with the fact that J and I are realizing something.
We’re one of those couples that, statistically speaking, are a couple standard deviations from the mean in fertility treatments.
Whereas there are couples where, once you get their eggs to fertilize, pregnancy is relatively easy.
(I am BETTING you that’s the case with my sister. First IVF, unbelievable fertilization rates, nearly 100% survival rate from day 3 to day 5, transferred two gorgeous blastocysts at day 5. I can nearly guarantee you that her cycle will end up with a twin pregnancy.)
That’s not the case with us.
I will confess that I THOUGHT maybe it WOULD be. I mean, the first transfer after we fixed my uterus resulted in O.
I just assumed that, well, since we apparently FIXED the problem which prevented us from getting pregnant, of course we’d have a successful pregnancy again with no issue.
But that’s not the case, apparently.
Whatever the real underlying issue is, I need to stop the madness soon.
Because, yeah, I’m an overachiever. Type A. I take great pleasure in learning something new and actually progressing in skill. I like seeing that if I work hard at something, I can get GOOD at it.
The problem with how I approach life is that when I have no control over something and DON’T see progression?
Well, I feel like a failure.
And that’s the issue right now – that my feelings of failure are spilling into every other facet of my life right now. And that’s what I was trying to tell my therapist – that this is the first time where I’ve felt like a failure in EVERYTHING for so long.
I’m not sure why it didn’t happen to this degree when we were first trying for O. Maybe it was because I had more time to devote to actively coping. Maybe it was because I didn’t have to deal with grief of losing my aunt, too.
(Which I don’t know that I can even really talk about, either.)
But that’s why I can’t keep doing this forever.
In my opinion, the biggest problem is that because of my fucked up uterus, it’s IRRESPONSIBLE for us to transfer more than one blastocyst. We just know too much. O was little, and early (though term), and breech. And my uterus is unreliable.
It’s not worth to risk losing babies because I wanted to maximize our chances of getting pregnant.
Similarly, I’m not certain I could make the decision to selectively reduce, either.
So that requires us to do
water torture one-at-a-time transfers.
I want to be done because I’m tired of feeling like I’ve failed.
I want to be done because I know we’ll be okay, the three of us, if that’s what our family ends up being.
I want to be done because we’ve been thinking about getting pregnant, in one form or another, since before our wedding, which was nearly SEVEN YEARS ago.
I want to be done because I want to see the positive in my life, to get back to running, and living, and travelling, and watching O grow and learn.
I want to be done because I’m tired of sitting in an office with my doctor, analyzing our failure – when we have no real control over the outcome.
I’m tired of infertility and the emotional and physical abuse of cycling. I’m tired of living my life in limbo. I’m tired of the dagger cuts whenever I hear someone I know is pregnant or I see a pregnant woman or a new baby in an infant carrier.
I want to be done to just move on.
It’s hard to know where to draw the line. A failure in one cycle doesn’t mean that another might not work. And I have no idea if, down the road, I’ll feel guilt that I didn’t do MORE to get pregnant again.
(Probably I will. Because that’s how I roll.)
So where I am at right now is that we will be done after one more cycle.
That’s about as far as I can look.