Cocoon.

March 24, 2011 at 10:34 am | Posted in IVF #5: This is IT. | 11 Comments

I’m back in that Quiet Place.

I am trying to regroup from the BFN, process through the information that came from my WTF meeting with Dr. HIT on Monday, and work through some other emtional crap that has been dredged up this week.

The meeting with Dr. HIT went well, actually. He basically told us that a single blastocyst transfer would work well if we, you know, made good blastocysts.

We don’t. Either it’s a product of my age, or the aggressive protocol, or the fact that our embryos just don’t like the culture medium. But either way, my doctor thinks it doesn’t make any sense to aim at blastocysts anymore.

So he suggested a fresh cycle with a low and slow protocol. Similar to the one with O, but tweaked for the fact that I’m now 4 years older. Where I stay on 10iu of Lupron during the stim and reduce the FSH to 150 (from 225iu).

In his words, the Lupron will keep my estrogen in check and slow things down enough that maybe we’ll tease some good quality eggs.

And then. Day three transfer. Using assisted hatching, though he told me that the data didn’t really suggest that it would help our CHANCES of becoming pregnant.

But since we did it with the cycle where we did get pregnant with O, and insurance will cover it (because it was associated with a live birth), why not?

He did suggest a transfer of two embryos. It will increase our chance of getting pregnant to nearly 50%. Will also give us a 15-20% chance of becoming pregnant with twins. Which, you know, is contraindicated with the type of uterus I’ve got.

But we’ll deal with that reality if we get there.

So with the advent of AF on Monday, I’m on the pill, and we’ll go from there. We’re aiming at a retrieval at the end of April or so.

In the meantime, I’ve signed up for a 5 mile race next weekend. And might do another in mid-April if I’m not on stims during that time.

And I’m trying to come to some sort of place of acceptance that maybe the crib, when we put it away, might be the last time I see it again.

I think I’m grieving. Which is interesting, because I really do feel like we have a good chance of getting pregnant on the next cycle.

But I’m starting to realize that, yes, there’s a very real chance that the family we have now is the family we’re GOING to have.

And I know we’re going to be all right – I’m not grieving because I’m really upset with the fact that I won’t have my dream.

It’s more grief over the fact that I’m realizing I can’t FIGHT anymore. For my whole life, whenever I’ve felt powerless (which, actually, was a LOT), I’ve fought.

Even though I KNEW fighting couldn’t change the outcome.

And that’s where I’m at right now. I can’t chance the outcome. If it’s going to work, it will. If not, it won’t.

I just can’t fight anymore.

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11 Comments »

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  1. You are doing the best that you can. While I often wish I was dealt a different hand in the fertility department, I know that I have to play the cards I was dealt, like it or not, the best I can.

    It is a shame, the insular place we find ourselves having to go. It would be nice, uh dreamy, to just take things as they come, one at a time, but the necessity to have a Plan B, C, D, X is too great.

    Try try try to be in the moment that you are in…one thing at a time.

  2. [[Hugs]]

    You are doing everything you can to make your life the way you want it. Unfortunately, you cannot control everything (I know, that is SO hard to deal with!!). You are doing good by you, by your husband and by your son. šŸ™‚

    Abiding with you. (Oh, and seeing the title Cocoon–might be because I have had little sleep last night–but I so want to go under a blanket and veg on the couch!)

  3. Hugs.

    It sounds like a good plan. And if this is your last shot, the dual embryo transfer might make good sense…but as you say, that decision doesn’t need to be made yet.

    I think it is really hard for clever, high-achieving women to come to the realization that they can’t fix everything, and they can’t make everything turn out the way they want it to. Because we’re used to being able to get our lives in order. And with IF, you did succeed with O, so there’s always that sense of “but it did work once”.

    So I’d be very surprised if you weren’t grieving and didn’t have a whole lot of emotions to process.

    Best of luck with the next cycle. I’ll be here.

  4. You sound very calm (don’t know that you’re feeling that way). I really like the fact that your plan corresponds with your doctor’s plan. You are taking control over every aspect you *can* take control of, although I know it’s hard to know you can’t control it all. And of course I really hope it works – I like those 50% odds.

  5. lack of control sucks.

    (This from a fellow type A blogger.)

    Sending good thoughts for this cycle.

  6. Reading this just makes my heart ache. Maybe because it is hitting so close to home. I sob great big gasping breathes of air whenever I think about putting the crib away for good. You know we will probably be doing a cycle about the same time. I hope to GOD that it works out for both of us and we can be out of this hell. In the mean time, run girl run!!

  7. I had a long Lupron/low stim protocol and 3-day transfer. My RE called it “simmering.” I felt kind of badly that I didn’t have half as many follicles, eggs, and embryos as other women seemed to get. But I think there is a lot to be said for “underwhelming.” : )

    I am glad you feel a little more hopeful amidst the mixed emotions. You’re always so attentive to what’s going on in your head and heart.

    (hugs)

  8. I’ve always been a fan of assisted hatching–we did it with Grace (didn’t do it on the failed) so now I’m a believer. I also clinged to low dose aspirin and ICSI as being absolutely essential because I got a little superstitious. I didn’t wear special socks or anything though. :o) Fingers crossed for you, and hoping you are living peacefully every day.

  9. I am glad to hear you are going to give one more fresh cycle a shot. I really hope that the lower, slower protocol will be good for your eggs.

    I know you are on the fence about continuing treatment or stoppping. In reading your posts about continuing or stopping this roller coaster, you kept coming back to trying the protocol that worked with O one more time. I am glad that you will be doing this – that way there may not be regrets if you do stop after this. I hope that this cycle is the last one you ever do because it has worked. But if not, I hope it helps make your decisions easier.

  10. Not fighting is not always a bad thing.

    Here’s to hoping.

  11. I’m here for you , no matter what. Whatever happens, whatever you decide, you’re a fighter to me. I think this protocal is a good thing, and I’ll be here cheeering you on through the cycle.


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