I had vials shipped to the doctor today. Tonight, I start the meds. I can't believe the day is here. It's a little scary to realize that I've been cramming for this test that's completely out of my control through diet and acupuncture and soon I know whether I pass or I fail. I know that isn't the right terminology, but I have to admit that it feels that way. I've always had confidence in my body- it might not look perfect, but it's served me well over the years. I feel differently after learning that I might have problems getting pregnant... what the hell did I do to deserve that? Oh, yeah. Smoking for years, drinking too much, possible sh*tty heredity (my mom went into menopause early). Zazie points out that there's no way to know if any of those things contributed or whether it's just a sh*tty fluke. So whatever. How unfair that getting pregnant isn't a test you can pass through your own skill- it's just up to fate!
The docs have talked to us about the number of embryos to put in. (Knock on wood the cycle works at all). We've decided on one. We already have twins, we can't handle another set and I can't bear the thought of a "selective reduction" if we were blessed with another two. I just think about what would happen if we'd selectively reduced Ru or El... they are both so fantastic and delicious that the thought of missing out on one of them makes me teary. I feel really solid on this decision but I occasionally I get a "what if this doesn't work because we decided to put in one and I'm SOL?" I get one shot at this IVF thing. If it doesn't work, my insurance won't cover a whole additional cycle (we'd have to pay out-of-pocket for about half and we don't have money for that). So this it. The last (and only) hurrah. What kind of freaking hurrah involves weeks of doctors visits, ultrasounds, medsmedsmeds, and possibly ends in nothing but a period?
I am trying to be content in our decision. I've pulled out all my talismans. I've been wearing the Virgin Mary necklace my friend A wore for many years. I've been wearing the liger shirt I wore when we were trying with Ru and El because it reminded me of a childhood picture of our donor. Under our bed, I have dandelions from Ireland given to us by a friend who swears by her family's fertility tradition. I've been breathing deep and praying. That's all I can do for now. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me.