I think I mourned this cycle on the day I found out I only had three follicles, because the cancelled transfer hasn’t really set me back the way my previous cancelled cycles have. Grief is not consuming my every thought. I have not gone catatonic, unable to get out of bed. Possibly I am getting used to disappointment.
Tony’s coping mantra has been, “I feel good that we got farther than we have before.” I don’t know if he really believes this or if he is saying this for my benefit. Maybe he has spent too much time working in the liberal school system, but this isn’t a circumstance where a participation medal will make me feel better. This is more of a “second place is the first loser” or “close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades” type situation.
Going through this stressful IVF cycle put a distance between Tony and me, mainly because I chose to be alone with my stress, alone with my worry, alone with my concern. The cancelled transfer has brought us together again. We have been holding each other more, stopping for hugs without words as we pass each other in the hallways of our house. We have been touching more too. There has been a gelling that is different from where we were a week ago.
I have been feeling an overwhelming desire to become more healthy. I think this is my subconscious trying to assign some sort of blame to this situation. Maybe if I hadn’t stopped going to the gym two months ago this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if I hadn’t drank at that happy hour this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if I ate more fruits and vegetables this wouldn’t have happened. I’m not really fighting this urge toward health because I figure being more healthful can’t hurt my situation. There is a strange comfort in blame. Blame indicates that something could have been done differently. Blame indicates that there is something that could have been controlled.
If there is no blame then the best case scenario is that the cancelled transfer was caused by bad luck; a pull of the slot machine that yielded nothing, building anticipation for the next pull that might be “the one.” The worst case scenario is that there is no one and nothing to blame, no bad luck, but rather we are trying to accomplish something impossible.
At this point I can only hope for one thing. I can only hope that my RE has learned something from this cycle. I can only hope that my protocol can be tweaked to coax my ovaries to respond better. I can only hope that somehow my egg quality can be improved. I can only hope that if we try this again SOMETHING will be different…better.
We are now waiting for the final call cancelling our transfer before we leave for our trip. The car is packed with luggage and a picnic lunch for our trip. We are sitting on the sofa with our shoes on. One call and we are out the door. I’m ready to leave. I am looking forward to getting away, recharging.