I have been in a pervasive funk.
Possibly it's related and exasperated by the end of summer (I spent 4/5 days last week in one classroom or the other, and have two parent meetings this week, and just never feel truly ready no matter how much early prep time I put in), but I think I know what it really is.
I am feeling very sorry for myself, and it was kicked off by an IVF emergency suffered by someone I know yesterday. It's been so long since I've been in those shoes, but not really all that long. Her estrogen dropped inexplicably over the weekend, and she needed to have it rechecked Monday, knowing that if it truly had dropped then things were in trouble. I am not close enough friends with this person to feel like I can offer advice in any way (and really, who am I to offer IVF advice when I so completely failed at it?), but there were some things that bothered me, and I don't feel empowered to voice any concerns because I don't really know her all that well and I don't really like the clinic she goes to for a variety of reasons. The nurse told her that they'd never seen anything like that before (I know so many people who had an estrogen crash), then the doctor said that he WILL save this cycle, no matter what! Um, if your estrogen truly crashed, that pretty much trashes your egg quality if you can even get to a retrieval, and I hate when doctors promise things they can't truly deliver on.
Well, it turns out that it must have been an error or a weird thing, because today's bloods revealed normal values. Here is where I feel like a horrible person. I am happy that her cycle wasn't trashed, truly I am. They are tight financially and that would be disastrous for them. But for me, all I could think of was, WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE EVER BEEN AN ERROR FOR ME? Why was every single thing that was questionable a freaking tragedy? How many times did I have my bloods redone to check that the estrogen drop was truly that crazy, or that the HCG drop was truly that crazy, and never ever ever gotten a reprieve, a WHOOPS, those numbers were a mistake?
Never, that's how many times.
And it makes me sad. It makes me sad that the medical part of our journey was so filled with one weird thing after another, one wrong turn after another, until we were forced to be like, NO MAS.
I guess I am wary of doctors that overpromise, even if in times they do make good on fantastic claims. And I feel glad that others don't have my series of unfortunate events, but it would sure be nice if WE could have something come through, somewhere, in this quest to have a child. I feel increasingly stagnant in adoption and like others around me are adopting and having more success with having opportunities, and so I'm just down.
I'm afraid I'm always going to be on the outs in this arena.
I'm afraid of not getting the chance to be a mom. That would turn out okay if that was the case, but I'll have to reframe my whole idea of the next couple decades. I won't get to say "not yet" when prying eyes ask if we have kids, because the answer will just be unequivocally NO, not EVER.
Oh, and after writing this draft, running out of time to finish and heading out to book club (after dropping a favorite crockery bowl and shattering it), someone announced a surprise third pregnancy while I tried to concentrate real hard at the salad dressing label to make sure it was gluten free and I could eat it...so no one could see me trying so hard not to tear up.
Such a funky, funked up day.
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