It’s not over yet…

I have an overwhelming sense of sadness with every step in this cycle knowing that once it’s done, it’s done. Bottom of the ninth, down by 2. Two out. Bases empty. The other team has last at bat. Pack up the clothes. List gear on crai$#ist. Clear away all the little baby things.

But today is not that day. We’re not out of the game yet. We retrieved 3 eggs today. Three. The RE gave us some positive examples. He’s not ready to call it a day. But he also said, when he came to check on me and found me sitting silently with tears streaming down my face, that we don’t know what we don’t know. It’s one day at a time. We just have to wait and see. And it only takes one.

It only takes one and we have three. Which is my favourite number. My hockey number. My lucky number. And 2 more than 1.
So it’s not over yet.

Three is not a crowd. But it will have to do.

Here we are again. At the brink. Just got the call saying we will trigger tonight. There are 3 eggs that look good and we’re not going to take any chances of losing those. We’re a day earlier than planned and 2 days earlier than previous cycles.
I’m having a really hard time mustering up any joy for the upcoming retrieval. And I don’t believe in my heart of hearts there will be a transfer.
I haven’t been here before. I’ve been nervous. Cautiously optimistic. Hopeful?
Now I feel like I’m just finishing something because I started it. Can’t leave a book half read or a bed half made.
I’m chest crushingly sad that things aren’t looking better and that I can’t seem to find the bright side.
I realize it only takes one. And three is 2 more than that.
I know it. I just don’t feel it.

Better Be Home Soon

Done. Retrieved 8 darling little eggies currently being isci’d in the lab. It’s like a pre-arranged marriage. Normally it’s sperm meets egg, sperm loses egg, another sperm comes along. loses egg then the next sperm – whooo-eee. Cue “the way to make me feel”. Or “Fever” or “Close to you”. This one’s it – the sperm of sperm and he just dives right in – egg and sperm fertilize and Ka-Paw…everything changes.

In this case it’s more like unsuspecting egg is sitting at the bottom of a slide. ( not really knowing it’s a slide). And along comes this apha male – best swimmer, most agile, makes all the other sperm jealous and the other eggs swoon sperm – whoosh- right down the slide – into our egg and Ka-Paw…everything changes. Sure, they didn’t get to have the whole “What’s your sign, come here often” discussion. But arranged marriages have been working for thousands of years around the world. Right?

And if it takes my egg as long to find a sperm as it took DH and I to find each other, we could be at this a long long time.

Tonight I am recovering from my own (not terrible) physical discomfort of the retrieval. But what’s more embarrassing, is the emotional discomfort of having my little team tucked away where I can’t have any role in the outcome. Where the heat could be to low – I’m cold all the time- or where the lights could be too bright or too dim.

What if the tech watching them doesn’t know that whenever the person who carried them around got a little nervous about this process she played Graceland – and maybe a little Paul Simon in there would make them want to grow bigger and stronger.

I just want my little fellers back home where they belong. I am surprise by the overwhelming feeling of love and need to protect them I feel – when they are so small, I would even be able to see them.

Oh – and I got an awesome honest scrap award – and my first ‘honest’ utterance is I don’t know how to get it into my post. Help?

I hope you dance

First, my apologies for the lack of iclw comments today. I’m kind of freaking out about the retrieval but I’ll do double duty tomorrow. I also got an award today that I haven’t posted up here,  given proper thanks for or done the work what comes with – again apologies. I’ll do a great job of that tomorrow too. Along with a full ER report.

Tonight – I just want to write a quick note to the follicles that hold the eggs that tomorrow will meet their loving fathers’ contribution and hopefully fertilise, begin to grow, hang in there long enough to come back to us, tuck in for the long haul and eventually become a smiling, clapping, dancing part of our family.

That’s a lot to ask of a tiny little follice. It’s a big, big ask. And I’m not sure if you’re actually holding any eggs. And if you are, I don’t know if all the rest of that long list is even possible.

But if it is. If there’s a chance you’re holding a little ray of hope in there – do me a favour… Give it all you’ve got. I know it’s going to be quite a ride. There will be all sorts of things standing in your way. It’ll be scary too, just a microscopic little tigg like you out there in the world all alone.

But don’t let that get to you. You’ve got a little job to do and if you do it well – there’ll be all kinds of way more fun adventures in your future. There’ll be snowflakes and star fish, and ice cream and balloons full of stuff you can’t see, but when your Dad breathes it in, he talks funny. So many things I can’t even list them off.

So when you’re faced with the choice tomorrow to give up a little eggie or hold tight – give it up.

And little eggie – when you meet a fellow and you’re not quite sure about him – give him a chance, you could be great together.

We could all be great together. I’m sure I’ll ask you to do a zillion things – but this one, this first one…it counts the most. Just get us started. Fight your way  against the odds. Take the chance to be something extraordinary.  And if you get the choice to sit it out or dance  -Dance!