A Whole Lot of Nothing

That's what I felt like I got at our follow-up appointment today.  I already felt guily because J wasn't really planning to go (but I didn't know that) and I pitched a nice little fit (somthing or other about not needing anything from anybody and I could take care of myself...with tears, of course) on Sunday afternoon, and he decided to just take off work long enough to go.  The appointment was at 9:30 and he expected to be back to work by 11:00.  I thought that was perfectly feasible. 

That is, until we sat in the conference room for an hour before Dr. W appeared to us.  When I signed in, they gave me the standard form to fill out (I'd done this twice before--not my first rodeo, remember?).  I pulled my list of questions out of my purse so I could transfer them to the form.  I didn't have many:

1.)  Would you recommend doing anything differently? I fully expected her to push for a medicated FET next go around
2.)  How soon can we try again?  We were hoping to squeeze in one more attempt before the year ends to maximize our tax refund.  Sad, huh?
3.)  Do I need to repeat any bloodwork?  In May, she mentioned that some of my test results from the recurent pg loss panel might have been skewed by the recent pg and we should probably repeat some of the tests...but every time I asked after that, no one seemed to listen.

There was also a place on the form to request any refills, and I jotted down the name of my folic acid supplement she put me on in May.  A couple of minutes after turning in the clipboard, they called us back.  The nurse took my paper and showed us to "our room."  Where we commenced to wait.  And wait.  And wait some more. 

I don't know if she felt obligated to encourage us to try something different, but I left there feeling like I had none of my questions answered really.  She did recommend we get karyotyping done, but we're checking on costs first.  If something showed up, we don't have the money to do the genetic testing on our remaining embryos, anyway, so what's the point?  We think we'd rather just take our chances.  Needless to say, we've got some discussing to do among ourselves before we make any decisions.  She did mention that we might try starting Lov.enox just after transfer rather than waiting for a positive test.  I don't know yet, though.

She did tell us that because we had experienced implantation two out of three attempts, our odds of being successful with this batch of embryos has not diminished (it's still 40%).  Of course, the number cruncher in me figures that if we end up with 5 total attempts out of this (we've already used 3) and one can statistically achieve a pregnancy only 40% of the time, we've already met that goal. 

I didn't say much all the way back to J's work.  I didn't know what to say, and every time I thought about saying something, J would beat me to it.  I was also afraid I'd cry if I tried to talk.  I got my flu shot, dropped off my prescription and ran a couple of errands while it was being filled.  Now I'm home with laundry in the washer and the drier. I'm thinking I desperately need a nap.  Perhaps I'll grab my cuddle buddy (Jax) and see if he'll rest with me for a bit. 

I'm so sick of all of this.  I don't like the short-tempered, pessimistic anti-baby person that infertility has turned me into.  Grrrr.....

Hugs and love,