Dag nab it I am behind again... Let me try to bring you up to speed.
Shit numero uno-
A week and a half ago I had what is referred to by the fertility challenged as my "wtf" appointment. I didn't really get it until now. It's the appointment you have after a failed IVF cycle. I couldn't think of a more appropriate acronym to use for this encounter. I waited weeks before going so that I could be cool, calm and collected. I prepared my questions. I was ready... yeah right. You get there, the doctor talks and you just want to say WTF happened? WTF went wrong? WTF am I supposed to do now?
Unfortunately my appointment left me even more confused. I still have no clue WTF happened. Shitty shit shit! I have no known or diagnosed issue. Austin's swimmers seem to be fine and plentiful. We just make crappy embryos. Things appeared to have gone better this time. The number of mature eggs retrieved was right on, the fertilization rate was great, but by day 2 our embies looked bad... really bad. We had two that were ok and were transferred, but perhaps weren't ever good enough to continue to develop and implant.
The doctor has no ideas as to what is happening. My tests show that my egg quality and supply should be that of a 20 year olds. (She said I couldn't ask for better numbers), but there may be some strange underlying egg issue. She just kept pointing to the computer saying none of it made sense for me. Nothing that has happened should be happening... great. WTF does that mean?!?!
I held it together through most of that appointment, but discussed next steps. She said if insurance covered any part of this or if money were no issue she would say just keep doing it. It could definitely work for us, but we live in the land of Kansas and things aren't covered. Not only are they not covered they are insanely expensive, so just trying until it works isn't really an option for us.
Since the best we can come up with is an underlying egg problem, we could use donor eggs. Talk about a hard pill to swallow. Thinking that I am the problem, that my crappy body is making crappy eggs that are keeping us from making our little human is devastating. It's also an issue that currently, medically is not fixable. Thinking that I may never carry a biological child is hard... hard really isn't the word. I don't think their is one to accurately describe that. It's another one of those indescribable hurts that penetrates every inch of your being.
That being said, at the end of the day I want to be a mom. I want Austin and I to get to be parents. That may look different for us and that will just have to be ok. I know that no matter what child we end up with or how we end up with them they will be the most wanted and loved little person. That being said and with us feeling that way, I went ahead and had a woman come in to discuss the various costs associated with donor eggs. Here is where I lost it...
She came in smiling... SMILING!!!! (I know, I know... I'm totally irrational at this point... but this is DEVASTATINGLY DIFFICULT NEWS... this is an EXTREMELY HARD conversation and you bounce in smiling?!?!) Couldn't you at least give me sad eyes or acknowledge that this must be hard for me? It gets worse, she KEEPS SMILING and she reads through the pricing lists (that again are ridiculously expensive) with a happy voice. It was like I was picking out a fancy nail design for a pedicure or ordering toppings for a pizza.. "You can do this or this.. If you do this it costs that." smile, smile happy voice. I couldn't stand it! The floodgates opened and were not closing anytime soon. It was the ugliest cry I have had to date at the doctors office. I know none of this is their fault and they are doing their best so I always try extra hard to be strong and level headed and hear everything out, but this was too much. The teeth and happy eyes were too much. She actually had to excuse herself to let me try to get composed... nope not happening. I had to put on my shades and run out of that place. I can't say that the reading of those documents/price sheets would have ended any better had she looked sad. I think what we were discussing was just going to be hard regardless, but geeze louise a tiny bit of sensitivity wouldn't have hurt anything.
I leave that appointment to come home finding Austin cleaning up poop...Lots of poop.
Here comes the second shit- (it would actually be the second through the twentieth if we were getting really technical)
That same day that I have this difficult appointment I come home to chaos. It appeared that both dogs had lost complete control of their bowels. Everything stunk, it was a disaster. What do I do? I go from crying to laughing hysterically... I know I am a crazy person. Something about Austin ticked off cleaning up piles of doo doo just makes me giggle.
I can't decide if all of this was adding insult to injury and additional punishment or some messed up kind of divine intervention. It definitely forced me to change my current focus to get a handle on things.
We take the dogs to the vet the next day and find out they have hookworms! No clue how that even happens. Thankfully with a little less dog food and some monster doggy pills all was set right (and aired out ) in the Wiechman house. :)
Thank goodness we were headed on vacation... not sure how much more shit we could have handled!
