Not Our Miracle

Although I heard the news on Monday afternoon, I am still processing it and dealing with how I feel.  The hopeful 8.8 that we heard on Friday had dropped to 3.9 by Monday.  The nurse said it was now a negative and I didn't have to return anymore for follow up bloodwork and to stop taking my meds.

I have stopped taking everything.  Every time I use the restroom, I expect for AF to be arriving but she hasn't shown her ugly face yet.  With every twinge down there, I think about her pending arrival - how when she shows, that thick beautiful lining that I worked so hard to build up will be shedding from the walls of my uterus and bringing with it my precious little embryo that just wasn't strong enough.  It won't resemble much and probably won't even be visable in the post-IVF hell that shows after an unsuccessful transfer...

What I really feel like posting about right now is not our future options or how I know I will come out stronger on the other side.  What I really feel like posting about is something that is so minute that it shouldn't even be entering my contious thoughts.  Really - you will think I am nuts.

What is this trivial item???

My tag line on my the BBC. 

As I contemplated the shedding of my uterine lining, I wondered "Does this count as a miscarriage?  Should I update my tag line on BBC to 2 Angels?"  But the worst part about this is that in this thought pattern, I realized that really, throughout this IVF process, I didn't have just 1 Angel.  My total embryos transferred has been 7 which brings my total of known live embryos in my uterus to 8.  And there were 18 more that never made it out of the petri dish.  Crap.  That is a total of 27 known embryos of ours that never stood a chance. 

27. 

That is a lot of babies that I have been unable to bring into this world safely.  I half jokingly told my best friend over lunch that I felt like a baby killer.  I know.  That is an absolutely TERRIBLE way to look at this situation.  Really, someone probably needs to slap some sense into me for having these thoughts.

But I guess what makes me so worried about this number?  Why would anyone chose to give me THEIR babies to grow in my uterus if I couldn't get my own to nestle down in there???? 

Logic tells me that the fragmentation means some sort of genetic anomaly that prevented me from carrying a child of our own to term and that any strong healthy blastocyst would stand a chance.  After all, Dr. C told me that my uterus is just fine even though it has it's own anomaly.  And logic would also argue that the only blastocyst we transferred at least implanted and gave us an HCG of 8.8.

But that damned emotional/hormonal/irrational side of myself is screaming that I don't stand a chance at carrying a baby so why even bother to try someone else's embryos?  Wouldn't I just end up losing them too and having to add them the list of carnage???  It is screaming at me to just give up any hope of ever seeing an ultrasound with my baby in it.  It yells to forget about feeling the baby move or kick for the first time.  It tells me that I should not even bother about daydreaming about Derek kissing my swollen belly and looking at me in awe as he gets to feel it move for the first time.  It whispers that having a nurse hand you your baby all covered in goo after labor is over-rated.  It taunts that breastfeeding will never be in my future.

Maybe I should just remove anything about angels from my tag line on the BBC.  It makes the decision that much easier.  Besides - I think I would have some people un-friend me with a statistic like 27 angel babies in my tag line.  Yup.  That sounds like a plan.

Shit - I guess I should sign off while I can.  I think I see a man with a straight jacket coming for me.  And even if he wasn't on his way, some of you that know my home address might be sending him FOR me after reading THIS post. 

Oh, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde can eat their heart out.  Leave it to a woman with infertility to really go ape-shit nuts!  I think I have them beat.