*Disclaimer – this post was not written this morning, I am deliberately posting these entries on different dates so that I can be fully open about this IVF stuff without people knowing exactly what is happening when. It’s a self preservation thing, with all of the injected hormones I become a bit of an emotional wreck, and am saving myself the pressure of people curious to know outcomes before I’m ready to tell.
Second scan yesterday. In my previous two IVF cycles I have had to go in for scans every couple of days for about a week and a half. These are basically to establish how many eggs are developing, how many are of a good size, and therefore when would be a good time to commence the procedure proper.
This time round, however looks like a better deal, it’s looking like I will only need one more scan tomorrow, and then we can start getting on with the next step pretty much straight away.
I have at least 8 good sized eggs (some other smaller ones may develop quickly enough to be usable too), which is really good at this stage, the new drugs must be working well, which is a relief as I’d half convinced myself I was doing something wrong with them, that then was the usual paranoia.
Problem is now I’m freaking out, and I’m not really sure why. It could be because things are happening differently this time, I’m in a pretty high emotional state and any change to what I expect is not generally met with any grace at the moment. But this is a good development, I can see that, I think it’s actually hitting a nerve because it’s going well…
…I’m expecting this not to work. It’s mostly a self protection thing, I’m putting myself on the side of the statistics, on the side of experience, and on the side where it will hurt least either way when we do the pregnancy test at the end of this. This works well for most of the time, until something like this comes along to challenge that, until something gives me hope. And hope is not something I’m comfortable with at the moment.
Last year at Greenbelt Festival I was in the Christian bookshop and saw a mug with one word on it ‘Trust’. That one word seemed to sum up a lot of what I was getting out of the festival, and quite out of character, I bought the mug. This year at Greenbelt I found myself in the same part of the same store, and there was another mug with one word on it. ‘Hope’. I felt quite a big reaction against it, decided it was not for me and put it back. Later that day I went back and bought it, for I am nothing if not contrary. I use both mugs, but given a choice I will go for the one that says ‘Trust’. Hope at the moment is too much of a hornet’s nest.