Sunday, April 24, 2005

a tale of gift horses and mouths

This is all so confusing.

It wasn't meant to be like this.

The REs told me that a major theme of IVF is handing over control of one's fertility to a team of relative strangers. It's trusting them to know what they're doing, and to do the best thing for your personal situation. For a lot of women, that's the easy part. Their fertilty has let them down, so it's a relief to let someone else take over.

For me, not so much so.

I'm not good at trusting anyone, much less trusting them to look after me, so the hardest part has been to sit back and wait, without question, for the i's to be dotted, the t's to be crossed, to accept they're doing their best for me, and for treatment to commence. I got past that hurdle, quite well in fact, and IVF became not about about relinquishing control of my fertility, but about taking it back.

Getting me pregnant became someone else's responsibility, yes, but I employed them to do the job for me, making my fertilty mine more now than it has ever been. I ws no longer relying on chance, and I was making sure I had every opportunity to make this happen.

Chance won though, and the universe has got to be bent over double from laughing so hard.

This wasn't meant to happen. Do you know the odds of this pregnancy occuring?










this big -><- maybe, and that's on a good day.

I'm a geriatric. That reduces my chances to something ridicously low. Secondly, I'm a geriatric with a blocked fallopian tube, which means I've got fifty percent less chance than someone with two viable tubes. Thirdly, I've had sex once in over two months, and I hadn't even ovulated when we did it. I didn't even know I could ovulate fercryinoutloud. Fourthly, no. Just no.

This is unexpected and unplanned and all the planning and accepting and waiting I've been doing matters for shit.

I know I should be glad, and I am, but I'm also totally fucked up and I don't know what to do. I want this but I don't. It's like being given a Corvette when what you really wanted was a Trans Am. Okay, no. Not really.

What do I feel? What should I feel? I don't know, so I'm going with guilt, accompanied by a serving of regret, and flavoring the lot with the essence of pure terror.

This can't be true. If it is, it's the best thing ever, but in the worst possible way.

I need to go pee on a stick except I don't need to pee. I also don't want to see two lines, I don't want to see one. I have something to love now and so, I also have something to lose.

Also, these cramps I'm feeling? Mild, very mild, but they can't be good. :(

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