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It seems no matter how prepared you are for the ‘worst’ with IVF there are always greater depths to be explored. Our fourth IVF cycle has now ground its way to a complete end. There were a few close calls. Just when we thought we had it worked out, we were side-blinded – again. Leaving before dawn yesterday morning we got to the clinic without a hitch. Considering our recent travel incidents, this was an excellent start. Continue reading Stitching up the IVF game Tomorrow I return to the city for that all-important extra ultrasound to see if Cycle IV is still viable.  This seems like so much time and effort just for a 5 minute assessment that is highly likely to bring bad news.  This increasingly torturous journey is quickly becoming some IVF rite of passage. My IVF hopes and dreams grow, twist and shrink with every bend along the way. By the time the city is in sight, my thoughts have processed every possibility many times over.  Sometimes I try to imagine how I would feel about IVF if travel wasn’t a factor. Then I think of those who travel overseas and interstate for the same purpose, and wonder however they manage to survive it.  Distance means usually leaving the day before tests and procedures are scheduled. We returned late Saturday from the last appointment. The next appointment takes place early Wednesday morning. The time in between has been spent recovering, worrying about the cycle and dealing with a rapidly deteriorating lower back problem. The equation goes something like this:  X follicles divided by Z ultrasounds plus ? mm expected daily growth injected with 47 subcutaneous 0.5ml antagonist from Day 6 less 3 Clomid headaches multiplied by Wobbles’ optimism diminished by my negative thoughts add a touch of our combined hopes and dreams balancing on the point of devastation equals zero eggs.  Clearly mathematics is not my strong point. Nor is follicle production for that matter.  Yesterday the mood around my Day 8 ultrasound was sombre. While Lifeslurper is never known to display great hope, the thought of the all singing all dancing antagonist cycle protocol had brought some secret thoughts of improvements in this broken down chemical ridden egg factory. Make no mistake, IVF is a young women’s game. And yet it seems hard enough on them. So what happens when you have an unsuccessful end to your third round of IVF at age 43 years and ten months?  I feel utterly convinced that I am messing around with something quite inappropriate for my age. Trying to conceive, let alone attempting IVF seem as at odds with my age as my wearing the current fashions of 19 year olds. Take a guess at how awful I’d look in low slung jeans, a midriff baring tee-shirt, tan foundation, pale pink lipstick and Paris Hilton peroxide hair extensions (or whatever the young ‘uns are wearing today)? It would not be a pretty site. No matter how much I tried to adapt it to my needs, I would still be horribly and noticeably out of style. |
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