Surprise surprise

Morning: pregnancy test negative. Evening: I've got my period. Two days earlier. This is ridiculous. I am upset and furious. This never happened before: my luteal phase used to be pretty consistent. Damn the Letrozole cycle, damn the doctors, damn my stupid old body.

Approaching a new clinic, and something about hope

Yesterday I emailed one of the local fertility centers which was mentioned somewhere as a good one to go for reproductive immunology issues. They have their first consultation free, which sounds just about right: we are in a tight money spot right now, and I would rather learn in advance what they can offer me, if anything. So I spent two days preparing my medical records and filling their extensive questionnaire, and getting more and more depressed by the minute.

What, realistically, anyone could probably offer me at this point? I honestly have no idea. I tried the anti-inflammatory protocol and failed. I tried Lethrozole and failed. Maybe some new twist on the first one could work. Maybe we could talk about the natural cycle IVF. Maybe it's just a matter of persistence and trying naturally, again and again. And hoping, hoping all the time.

Today, looking at the joyous faces and rainbow flags in the news, I remembered the famous Harvey Milk speech about hope. "You got to give them hope". At least someone didn't hope for nothing.

But me. Honestly, how do I even dare to hope. Me, with my 40th birthday just around the corner, with my shitty tests and 5 miscarriages, with first betas testing lower and lower every time? I know I need to stop obsessing about it, but when my Facebook feed brings new pregnancy announcements almost every day, I just can't. All those people getting their seconds, thirds, and fourths, but why not me? And my compilation of infertility blogs, which I made just few months ago, is full of happy reports, pregnancy complains, and ultrasound pictures. I am happy for everyone at these blogs, and I wish them all the best, I just want to be there myself as well. Hope is such a heavy burden.

Ultrasound results

So the results are in, and they don't make much sense - except for the confirmation that yes, I do have cysts, and I also have some "free fluid with debris" flowing around down there. Ain't it just peachy - I know I am full of awesomeness. Moreover, somehow the radiologist decided to compare the results with the ones I had in December, before the surgery. So his/her sorry exercise looked like: um, yes, the lesions got smaller etc. What. The. Fuck. S/he didn't even measure their sizes, how about that? And then my hurried surgeon emailed me "good news, your cysts are smaller and we don't have to do a follow up". Excuse me? Haven't you, you know, cut the whole shit out?! My OB/GYN said that "um, the endometriosis always comes back, so the cysts just had rearranged themselves". My uneducated take was that it's a few leftover cysts from Letrozole which could still go away, but no one seems to really think about it. They think that yes, this is the same old endometriosis back so soon. Which is very weird. Does it really, as the radiologist implied, has roughly the same configuration as before? How could this be?! Did they just forget to cut it out, having better things to do while I was sleeping? I don't know what to think, I am just pissed off and depressed even more.

The longest day of the year

I spent it checking my email every few minutes, awaiting the results of the ultrasound I had on Sunday to check the state of my ovaries after the botched attempt at Femara/Lethrozole. I haven't received any calls or emails, and I am exhausted from the whole imagination overdrive this is causing me.
Also, these past 3 days I have been: 1) drinking, 2) eating medium-cooked meat, 3) eating sushi. All during the two week wait. I think what this fifth miscarriage did to me was taking away hope - and thus maybe freeing us to go along with our lives. First small things, like drinking alcohol and planning vacations. Maybe bigger things will follow.
We are not completely done yet, though. We still plan on having a few phone consultations and seeing what we could do with our limited budget and travel opportunities. However, I have to get myself out of this limbo, which swallowed two years of our lives already. I have to. I don't know how, but I have to.

Random

Today I called to pay my bill for a Mother's Day ultrasound, and had a nice lady on the phone tell me that they do a 15% discount for infertility cervices. Her voice seemed so kind, so for some reason I started crying, and I am crying still. Meanwhile, my husband is dealing with all kinds of relatives/family friends at his mom's funeral, and fielding their questions about why haven't we got a 2nd/3d kid, why haven't we got a house, and all other shit older relatives normally ask. And yes, they also share their kids' stories around the lines of "oh and then they just miraculously discovered they're expecting their third, and they weren't even trying". WTF.

Feeling so down

I've been feeling incredibly down for the last few days. I've been testing every morning over the weekend, and the test line was getting paler and paler - until, on Monday, it wasn't visible anymore. I went for betas and spent an hour in a crowded lab waiting for my turn, thinking that I really didn't need to be there, since I already knew the answer. I haven't had breakfast, and might have been looking so miserable, that the technician offered me juice. This never ever happened before. Then she took a needle out too early and had to reinsert it, and I couldn't contain my tears.
The result was 2. My bitch RE didn't even say "I am sorry" (my OB/GYN, on the other hand, emailed me specifically to offer her sympathy). The other Dr. was uncharacteristically grim when I emailed him the news, and suggested we come and see him "sometime". His stupid office scheduled this "sometime" for August, and marked it as a "new infertility appointment". I am going to call to yell at them one of these days.
So, here's what I am dealing with now:
- I am feeling hopeless and helpless and desperate, because, once again, my chance to have a second child has evaporated. The bleeding came on Wednesday, and brought a new wave of grief and frustration.
- I am feeling sad re: death of my MIL, and having thoughts about the inevitability of this horrible end for people I love... everyone of us was someone's beloved baby, kissed and caressed and carried in arms, being read to and cooked for, and then fast forward - and there's no one to do this anymore; and then, this horror, and pain, and suffering, and then a cremation and a void.
- I am feeling alternately the immense comfort of my parents being here with me during this difficult time, and the poignancy of them getting older, frailer, and sadder. I am feeling guilty for not being able to cheer them up, and my heart breaks when I think that they would be leaving soon, and I don't know when I am going to see them again.
- My husband would be out of town for another week, and I miss him. Part of this time we would be alone with a kid, and this is going to be the hardest time - with all my grief and all bottled up tears.
- I am feeling like time just seeps through; my kid is having a graduation party this week, and this wonderfully safe cocoon her preschool provided would not be available anymore. With everything we've been going through the last two years she attended this place, it slowly became, in my mind, the embodiment of safety, the only constant place in her life. More constant than even her home, and safe from its pervasive sadness.
- I am feeling a horrible anxiety due to some health concerns; in the next couple of weeks I will have to face them and schedule some appointments. I am just so scared. I think somewhere in my heart of hearts I have this crazy idea that being pregnant is a miracle shield that keeps all the health issues at bay. I know it's not the case, of course, I am not stupid. It's just that I don't want to be thinking about tests and doctors if they are not related to be being pregnant - but I have to, and this makes me cry.
...And then I was folding the small girl clothes, new with tags, that someone in our household didn't get around to wearing. I was folding them to send to her younger cousin, and my heart was breaking again. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.