Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Way Forward

All right, something in me is trying to say. Time to perk up a bit. Loosen that death grip you have on your grief. As my family likes to say, Stop the wimp. The voice is tiny and tentative, but there it is. So I'll listen and make this post all about the path forward, even though doing so feels a bit like trying on an ill-fitting hat. Even though more of me would rather wallow here a bit longer.

Here's what I got from my (still fabulous in every way) doctor when we met for the infamous WTF appointment (this one being my most difficult yet -- the most fitting to ask, seriously, WTF?) post-miscarriage. The IVF cycle went well, but could be improved. Of 18 eggs retrieved 17 were mature, and 9 fertilized. Of those nine resulting embryos, however, only the two we transferred looked truly viable and only one looked really good. Of course, we'll never know which one implanted and it doesn't really matter since it turned out to be a total slacker anyway. She blames the miscarriage entirely on a run-of-the-mill (my word, not hers) genetic issue, which is one of those pieces of news that should somehow make you feel better but absolutely doesn't.

To improve embryo quality for the next cycle, she is adding the medication Repronex and scaling back the Gonal-f, which apparently will help by adding LH to the FSH mix. I believe that Repronex is made of urine from post-menopausal women (I read once that it was post-menopausal nuns from Italy, which seems too strange for someone to have made up), which probably should make me wince a little but at this point sounds positively dreamy if it will give me a live, healthy baby. Since no post-miscarriage period came on its own (as if), I took Provera and am now waiting patiently. Once it arrives, I will go on the Pill and will go in for an office hysteroscopy to make sure nothing strange is going on in there (girl parts convention? sorority party?) before getting started with IVF #2 and that new protocol.

I feel just as I would've guessed I'd feel at a moment like this: terrified, hopeful, pissed off. Wanting desperately to believe what everyone keeps telling me about all I have going for me. Oh, wait. I'm trying on this hat. Okay: I feel determined. And a little bit brave.

16 comments:

kirke said...

I'm glad you feel a wee bit brave :)

You are always inspirational.

Amanda said...

I'm glad to see that you are perking up and getting geared up for IVF #2. I'm sure it will be difficult, but I'm pulling for you.

Jamie said...

You have every right to feel all those things.

Sending you more thoughts of bravery and strength . . .

Anonymous said...

i am hopeful for you!

i didnt find any of those "run-of-the-mill" genetic explainations the least bit comforting either.

missing_one said...

Good for you for trying to put on the hat. I myself have lost mine for a few days....I think I left it on the rim of the pit.

*hugs* I'm hopeful for you

the Babychaser: said...

I once thought I could never survive a miscarraige. Sometimes I think it's amazing what you can survive, when forced to do so.

I'm glad you're climbing out of the pit (though I wholeheartedly advocate the requisite wallowing in the pit before starting that climb). Apparently my miscarriages (though earlier than yours) also are due to poor embryo quality, and it's so frustating to know that even if you get a BFP it's not guarantee.

I hope this new protocol works. It's nice to have an RE that is honing down the right approach for you.

Good luck.

Anonymous said...

You are SO brave.

I hope the change in protocols helps those embryos grow and stay sticky.

What's your timeline for IVF #2? I will have everything crossed!
T.

Mo said...

here's to wtfs and moving forward. one foot in front of the other, you'll get there. here's to ivf #2.
thinking of you.

mo

Michelle said...

You are very brave! I am glad that you are on the path forward. ((HUGS))

Frenchie said...

Hi--thanks for stopping by my blog to say happy birthday.

I'm so sorry to hear of your loss.

Anonymous said...

I like the idea of trying on a hat. I'm going to have to keep that in mind next time I cycle. A brave hat. A hopeful hat.

I'm glad that you are starting to feel a little perked up. I'm sending more brave and hopeful thoughts your way!

Anonymous said...

Your little bit brave is another woman's warrior. My very best wishes for you as you take steps towards going down this road again. It's maybe a bit trite, but there's a quote that I keep tucked away when I need a little extra dose of courage, and I thought I'd share it here with you in case it comes in handy:

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow.

Best wishes!

Nicole said...

Brave for sure. Glad to hear from you again...

bunny said...

yes, "terrified, hopeful and a little pissed off" seems to sum up a fertility journey perfectly. hope your bravery continues to grow!

Anonymous said...

I love this post. I think you capture all of the feelings perfectly-- and believe me, you are more than a little bit brave. Here's to once more, with feeling.

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