No stars. No dice. Transfer was canceled.
As so many of you unfortunately know, making the thaw does not necessarily mean turning into embryos that are ready to grow and flourish. Three thawed. None grew. Nurse tried to reach us all morning to: a.) tell us before we started the drive and b.) to be sure she was the one to tell us. And these are just 2 reasons why she is awesome.
But, well fuck, we were already dressed and on our way out the door, both of us had called off sick, and the prospect of sitting at home today sounded beyond awful, so we got in the car and drove to the clinic anyway. Not for a transfer, but for a review of any donor profiles they might have.
Lots of tears. From us, from Nurse (who frankly, looked worse than we did), from the financial advisor who told Nurse she looked like shit and wanted to know why, from the grief counselor who sat with us for most of the day. None from our RE. She gave us what we needed, which was hope and encouragement to keep moving forward. If there was any consolation to be had, at least we didn't spend the day feeling alone.
Its funny, this is pretty much the same cast of characters we spend our very first day with, back at square one. And in a sense, we are back there again. But this time with a lot more baggage.
We are home now. Drying our eyes. Thinking about what next. No donors in sight. Lots cycling now though at our clinic, so there may be some options opening up later. Later. It's all about waiting, isn't it?
If I sound calm and rational right now, it is simply because I am all cried out. M. too. I think we dumped off most of our despair and feelings of hopelessness with the counselor. Now we are just looking forward to dinner - like the very first day, we spent the morning on the road, the day in a cubicle and the early evening in traffic. All on an empty stomach. So, I am clearing off the little coccoon I had made on the bed filled with knitting, magazines and such, tidying up the house since there is no bedrest in sight and getting ready to roll some tortillas. It is all I can do not to pull every last radish from the garden.
23 comments:
Aw man. :( :( :(
m., I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. With you,
Mo
I'm so sorry. I wish there was something more I could say.
Argghh, I'm sorry. ((Hugs)) and hang in there.
Just so unfair...I am so, so sorry. I am crossing all I've got that the wait for your perfect donor is a very short one. Hugs.
I am so, so sorry. That sucks. That really sucks. There is so much waiting and I wish there was no more waiting, and that you could have had the transfer. Those embies just weren't meant to be yours. The right ones will come along and they will be meant for you.
Oh no - I'm so sorry :( I'll be thinking of you and M.
*hug*
I'm so sorry. Ugh. That sucks. And waiting sucks.
I sat here for a while wondering what the hell I could possibly write to make it better, or at the very least not trite, not another "I'm Sorry" but something more.
I know it's hard, some people have sex to have children, some people do an iui cycle or an ivf cycle (and when you get to the point when you are looking at thrid party reproduction, like me, and you, I am more jealous of those who just do 1 ivf and get pregnant then anything). it's hard. But when you get a plan, it does get a little better.
Lots of tears over here too. So fucking unfair. Sending you much love today. Both of you.
I am so sorry, M. I really don't know what to say either, except that I'm thinking of you guys.
I'm sorry. :(
Keep your radishes, take some time for yourself. I pray for your peace and hope to be restored.
Oh honey. I've gone from disbelief, to anger, to tears, and back again, just reading this short post - I can't imagine what *you've* been through!
I am so, so sorry for you and M. My heart absolutely hurts right now.
I'll just end the way I planned on starting this comment (before the anger moved on to tears) -
Shit.
Email if you want to talk - littlebluebirdsfly@gmail.com
I can't decide whether I am angry or sad on your behalf.
Probably both.
Probably just like you are.
I wish there were something I could do to make it all better.
{{{hugs}}} for both of you.
I'm so sorry
Oh Shit. I'm sorry.
Oh I feel like shaking my fist at the universe and yelling "stop it, that's enough!"
xxx
Oh, I'm so sorry. That totally sucks. I was not expecting to hear this from you - thought that for sure at least a couple would continue to do well.
Maybe that's an advantage of thawing at 3day stage - you can see if they grow to blast. I don't know what my clinic does when they thaw blasts, because I wouldn't think they'd wait an extra day to see what happens growth-wise. I'd actually rather have transfer be cancelled because none grew than live in hope for 2 weeks, not knowing that none had a chance to start with.
Still doesn't change the fact that this absolutely sucks for you and DH though.
I hope some fantastic donor options pop up in the very near future so that you don't wait forever for your next step.
Oh, m, I am so sorry. I like how Ryan's Mommy put it too.
May the next trip through go more smoothly and leave you with less baggage instead of more.
I'm so incredibly sorry. You're in my thoughts.
I'm late to learn the news - so sorry. Sounds like your clinic really cares and wants you to succeed so much. I hope they'll be able to help you move things forward.
I was there once, too. 3 embryos, all survived thaw and SLOWLY divided over the next few days. Day of transfer? We called at the last minute before leaving the house for the 2 1/2 hr drive. Reading this post reminded me how much it just sucks and is so unfair. I'm sorry.
That totally sucks. :( I'm glad the people at the clinic were a comfort to you, though.
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