Literally. Crash, crash, crash.
Yesterday I was excited about my zillions of eggles, my possible retrieval Friday or Saturday, and still a bit nervous about OHSS. My estrogen was 4499 down from 5662, which was to be expected with the Ganarelix and the dialed-down FSH dosing. I was upped to 100 to try to coax my eggles to get ready for trigger, which was to be today or tomorrow.
Well, I'm triggering today but not how I wanted.
My cycle was canceled.
No obscenity is intense enough to cover how I feel. MOTHERFUCKINGSHITFUCKDAMNHOLYHELLFUCKERSUCKERASSSHITFUCKALL seems to be close though.
My follicles today were not quite ready for trigger, closer, but not quite there. But my blood, my blood told a different story. My estrogen crashed to 1600. WHICH IS COLOSSALLY BAD. Somehow I started to ovulate, despite the ganarelix, somehow my eggles mutinied against me and decided not to play nice. Going forward with a retrieval would be a relative waste because I only had maybe 9 follicles out of the thirty-odd that were close enough to be ready, and not all of those may have mature eggs in them. I fully realize that 9 eggs could be a freaking miracle for some and this course of action may seem like looking a gift horse in the mouth, but everyone on my team decided that for me 9 eggs is not enough to go forward with retrieval when I typically retrieve closer to 20. Plus, a crash in estrogen does not bode well for egg quality. It's bad business. A slight dip is ok due to the introduction of the Ganarelix, but a crash of several thousand is BAD NEWS BEARS.
Have I mentioned how tired I am of receiving bad news? Of choking back my tears while I try to have an intelligent conversation about how this happened and what I do now and where we go from here? And then fall spectacularly apart as soon as the phone call is over? I AM SO VERY TIRED OF THE BAD NEWS GAME.
Especially, ESPECIALLY because of how much effort I've put into this goddamn cycle. I have gone out of my way to get fresh squeezed frickin wheat grass EVERY DAY. I have not had ANY EASTER CANDY, and nothing with caffeine has passed my lips in a freaking month. Including chocolate. I have not had any alcohol. I HAVE YET AGAIN LIVED LIKE A PREGNANT PERSON, AN ESPECIALLY VIGILANT PREGNANT PERSON, FOR ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING REASON.
You know, I usually try not to let the sailor mouth fly here, but it is incredibly freeing to let it go.
Since apparently I have to let it all go. And I have to trigger tonight and tomorrow morning with a hefty dose of lupron (which I did not know was possible but it is, * the more you know...), which means I will be OVULATING THOSE BIG FOLLICLES over the next couple days. Yeah, that's not going to hurt, the bursting of 4 then 5 giant follicles. ARRRGGGGHHHHHH.
The capper is that I can't have sex for the next two weeks. No sexytimes. None. Because while there is no sense in moving forward with retrieval, maybe they are good eggs. Maybe 3-4 of them are spectacular, but because they are all coming out at once I run the risk, the laughable risk, of getting pregnant with triplets or quads if I actually have some fun between the sheets anytime soon. HOW IRONIC. In trying to have a baby, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO SEX. And, my eggs aren't good for IVF but they're scary enough to warrant a gag order on my vagina. What is this insane world I live in? How did I get here?
The silver lining, because I always have to have a fucking silver lining, is twofold. A) Canceled cycles don't count towards my package, so we still have two retrievals waiting in the wings. B) This does not actually impact our timing of things at all.
See, the original plan, which is now in the toilet, was to do the retrieval in April, the hysteroscopy in May, and the transfer in June. Now, we'll do the hysteroscopy in May and then the retrieval and the transfer in June. No more uncoupling for me. Sounded great, but unless I get close to OHSS again which I sincerely hope I do not, it's not going to happen. GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD, PEOPLE.
Have I mentioned my guilt? My feelings of horrible hindsight, where I think, "I thought the starting dose was too high, but I was going to let go and not say anything, AND LOOK WHERE THAT GOT ME!!!"? Yup. I kind of wish I had spoken up. I do not feel that there was a wrong done here. I honestly think that the dose was higher to start but not ridiculously higher (75 IUs) to account for my increased age, and maybe as a thought to push me a bit since the dilute HCG portion is different. It did not work so great, and I made sure in my very strained I-refuse-to-sob-on-the-phone-with-the-RE conversation, that there will be changes for the next cycle. And that adjustments will be made to ensure this doesn't happen again. But, cycles get canceled all the time. And I knew I was at risk once my estrogen soared past 5,000. They did everything they could to slow my runaway train, but in the end it just came to screeching halt.
So, I can't change that I didn't speak up, and honestly I might have spoken up and received a very logical answer for why the dose was higher and it still would have played out this way. I also can't change that I have worked my ass off doing Egg Boot Camp and it appears that it was for NOTHING. I am not going to lie, I can't keep this up through June. I need a little respite. I need some amnesty from Le Boot Camp D'Egg. Just a little though, because I don't want to fuck up the next cycle, but maybe (go figure) all of this is too much. It's all good for me, but maybe the stringency isn't totally necessary. I mean, it didn't exactly work a miracle for me this time. That's the problem with all these "miracle fixes." They're great when they work, but even if I HAD had the best cycle of my life and gotten pregnant, I really wouldn't know if it was the Boot Camp that had anything to do with it. I can look back with no regrets, but I can't know that this regimen is the key to my nonexistent success.
I wish that I could go on a vacation these last few days of break. I wish that I could hop a plane and be on a beach somewhere warm, with a tropical drink in my hand. And maybe some bodysnatching so I could lie out in a bikini rocking my tan celebrity body that I definitely DO NOT HAVE. I think I need to go watch a funny movie. I need to eat a Cad.bury Egg. There needs to be some good eggs had today by someone, because there aren't any in me, apparently.
Sorry I don't have better news. I am a mess, an absolute mess. I am grateful that I can keep trucking with this and I haven't lost any time, but man I was really hoping for retrieval this weekend. I wanted my birthday and Mother's Day to at least be met with some frozen progeny-to-be hiding out in the freezer, little symbols of hope that this will actually come to pass. Oh well. Empty womb, empty freezer, emptied ovaries. Until next time, eggles. Please play nicer in June.