Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tortured Hope

Infertility is a roller coaster. No duh. Why should the sixth IVF be any different? Actually, you'd think that it would be easier because I should anticipate all the ups and downs. Especially the downs. But, alas, that is clearly not the case. Each time is harder. Exponentially harder it seems with the last few. Near to impossible to stand when it is the last fresh cycle. I am most certainly going nuts. Oh yeah. What about that hope part? Keep telling that tormenting emotion to leave me alone, but it is an insidious beast. Very first b/w and u/s since starting stims and hope is creeping in. Crafty. 22 follicles. I am happy (yes, really!) and then I worry...what does number matter, they will all be of horrible quality...only a few will be mature...there won't be many (any?!?) good embryos anyway...and on and on. E2 was 333. RE had said my eggs were in decline because last time my E2 was only 90 and he wants it to be between 100-300. Yay! E2 is higher this time! Hope wraps its claws around my heart and then I it bad for it to jump so much? it is higher than the RE wants...what does this signal?

Worry. I continue to worry. Anxiety sucks. Makes it hard to concentrate. Gives me a massive headache (or is that all the hormones?). And it turns into despair. It will not work. The greatest predictor of future behavior is past behavior...True for IVF?...Perhaps by the sixth...Why would this one work when all the others haven't?...And if I do get that BFP, what does that mean? Nothing except that HOPE has weaved its way from the heart to the brain and taken hold, only to dash me against the rocks laughing gleefully as yet another child dies inside of me. Five? Some would say. Twenty. My kill rate. Twenty little embryos, some attached for days or weeks, some that never attached at all; but all clearly dead. How can one stop crying?

You'll be sure to note that the torture is clearly self-torture. Must go with my warped mind or perhaps simply with being unendurably (is that even a word?) depressed. Watched "Empty Arms" again. Why? As if my journey wasn't in my head enough. No, needed to add images and sad music. Watched the wedding dance video...where is my happiness? Can I steal just a teeny, tiny bit of theirs? Just a little? Move me from unendurably depressed to simply depressed?

Then again, maybe I'm not really depressed. I have moments of contentment when I am doing (gardening, in the sun, with friends, with my kitty) punctuated by extreme sadness and highlighted by unprompted (or self-torture prompted) bouts of crying. Now, if I were really depressed would I have those moments of contentment?

Regardless, I know that I am tired. The journey has been too long. Too hard. Yes, I know that I can stop at any time...but would that be any easier? I can't imagine not having children with DH. Being parents together. But then again, if I can't even survive the journey of creating a child (no matter how out of the norm), maybe I won't make a fit parent after all. As a friend said: "There is a reason why you are going down this path." (or some such thing) Maybe the reason is that God is being smart in not giving DH and I children to raise. Yeah, well, perhaps. Or perhaps S/He just has DH's twisted sense of humor.

I am tired of this journey. I am tired of hope. I am tired of loss. I am tired of lack of control. I am tired of feeling defective. I am tired of crying. I am tired of not sleeping. I am tired of trying not to be angry. I am tired of envying other people. I am tired of hurting. I am tired, tired, tired.

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