Today, I'm applying the first estrogen patches for round two of our baby-making battle. That's exactly what it has started to feel like: a war waged on injustice and my ever-advancing age. I'm exhausted physically, psychologically and spiritually. But, I will persevere (albeit, maybe with a little bit of a bad attitude).
While I march into round two beaten and weary, my stubbornness and tenacity are my allies. It's these personal traits (that drive those around me crazy) that are helping me move forward. I don't have a lot of faith that this round will result in a pregnancy; however, giving up is just not a part of my DNA. So onward I go, my heart falsely protected by the quasi-certainty of failure...
I feel so cynical that I've convinced my husband to work backwards using our remaining embryos, transferring the lesser-quality ones first, and saving that final, beautiful Grade A embryo for our very last attempt. (We have a total of six embryos left.)
The silver lining in the grey cloud I've hung above my head is the estrogen. The translucent patches that cause my skin to ulcer, and must be removed from my abdomen with Goo Gone, have the power to transform my sulkiness to euphoria. I must have been much closer to menopause than I previously thought, for extra estrogen makes me happy and calm... and hopeful. If I could cover my entire body with those little patches I would. Estrogen is my version of crack. It's estrogen that will see me through to the other side of embryo transfer, round two.
While I march into round two beaten and weary, my stubbornness and tenacity are my allies. It's these personal traits (that drive those around me crazy) that are helping me move forward. I don't have a lot of faith that this round will result in a pregnancy; however, giving up is just not a part of my DNA. So onward I go, my heart falsely protected by the quasi-certainty of failure...
I feel so cynical that I've convinced my husband to work backwards using our remaining embryos, transferring the lesser-quality ones first, and saving that final, beautiful Grade A embryo for our very last attempt. (We have a total of six embryos left.)
The silver lining in the grey cloud I've hung above my head is the estrogen. The translucent patches that cause my skin to ulcer, and must be removed from my abdomen with Goo Gone, have the power to transform my sulkiness to euphoria. I must have been much closer to menopause than I previously thought, for extra estrogen makes me happy and calm... and hopeful. If I could cover my entire body with those little patches I would. Estrogen is my version of crack. It's estrogen that will see me through to the other side of embryo transfer, round two.