This time around, preparing for our 9th IVF cycle, I'm feeling a little more beaten down and a little more damaged. I'm hesitant to feel excited about this again--and with good reason, obviously. I thought we had nailed it... pregnant for a whole 7 weeks. It was a devastating turn of events when things went wrong, and although I'm physically over it, I'm not quite sure how emotionally over it I am.
We talked about whether or not we should continue. We've reached that point where carrying on with another cycle sounds exhausting, and calling it quits brings the promise of a a deep sigh of relief--from us and from our wallets. But we have these 4 frozen embies waiting for us, and I know that if we let them go, I would wonder for the rest of my life if one of them could have been my daughter's little brother or sister.
We can't quit now. We can see the finish line. If we make it through all four of the embies and come away empty handed, we'll at least know that we tried everything. And if it works, well, then we've won our final battle with infertility. But either way. there's no time for wallowing in sadness--we're racing biological clocks here.
So, we're trudging ahead and already a week into this next transfer cycle. I started Estrace last week to build my lining and, after bloodwork and ultrasound today, have been given orders to double the dosage. I'll go back in on Friday for another check to see how my lining is doing. We're anticipating that I'll be ready to start Progesterone at that point.
It's happening so fast. My head is spinning. But, with a finish line in sight, I know we're doing the right thing. We're squeezing every freaking bit of juice out of this lemon and, hopefully, it will all be worth it in the end.