Much to Hubby’s chagrin, my war on pthalates and supplements paid off in some respect because we had a grade 4AB blastocyst when we transferred last Monday. The absolute best possible is 4AA so it definitely was a fantastic quality. We high-fived and went excitedly into the transfer. Seeing as embryo quality was the problem before, there was no reason why this was not our baby.
I talked almost every minute of every day to my uterus. It was a sign that my yoga teacher called me Mama Bird. This was it.
By now you’ve realized it wasn’t.
I had some cramping starting end of last week. “Just the baby making womb” I joked. Cramps came and went and came and went. My confidence started to shake by Monday. So did Hubby’s. I did the one thing they tell you not to and did an EPT that came out positive. Right. “Just the baby making womb”.
Then I started spotting. I had a meltdown in my office while my boss was addressing some issues via text. Déjà vu to blastkap2. I hid in the bathroom, called the nurse, and cried. Pulled myself together. Walked back out and someone asked me if I was ok. Waterworks. I was scared to death. The nurse called back. Hey. It could be normal. “How silly am I going to feel 8 months from now”.
Spotting was worse. I made a total ass of myself in my office yet again. Things weren’t looking good. I took a personal day. I blew off plans with my support group and went home to spend the time with Hubby. “It’s over, isn’t it” he asked. “I’m pretty sure so” I wept. We just laid sideways on the bed and cried a little. Then we decided to distract ourselves for the evening in the event that maybe things would be ok after all.
Woke up to what I would call day 1 of Aunt Flo if I had no idea. I climbed back into bed and sobbed. Still had to go get bloodwork. We went together. We went out for pancakes. Came home and tried to distract myself to no avail.
I got the call about 1:30 today. HcG was 1.(something). It wasn’t the zero of “this never happened” but it wasn’t ever going to be viable.
It’s never going to be fair. I know I’ll be ok someday. Hopefully sooner rather than later. I know I’m so much more resilient than I used to be.
What I don’t know is what happens next. I will see what if anything the doctor has to offer about what happened and if there’s anything to do about it. I had thought this was our last cycle. But I don’t know if I’m ready to decide to live child free. But then what? Those who suggest third party reproduction often don’t realize just how costly it is. Whereas it may be worth it, it just plain might not be feasible after investing thousands in IVF.
I think for right now all I’m deciding on is what I want to do for the rest of the day.