Well, I did it. I injected myself in the stomach this morning. I didn’t feel more than the tiniest pinch. The worst for me was my paranoia that there was an air bubble in the syringe I could not see. I kept having to refill and empty the syringe, because I was having a really hard time getting the air bubbles out, and then I felt as though they were just moving to the very tip of the syringe where I couldn’t see them.
I also had my endometrial biopsy today. I don’t know how long it will take before I have those results. It was highly uncomfortable, but no worse than that.
I can’t stop thinking about our transfer and our embryos. I’m afraid to be hopeful, because I don’t want to set my heart up for disappointment. But if I don’t dare to hope, I won’t find the strength to put myself through all of these injections, pills, and tests. I’m inserting so many hormones in my body, I can’t help but worry there will be some long-term repercussions to my doing it, which is why this is not something I want to have to do over and over again. I simply want it to work on the first try. But I know all too well we don’t always get what we want.
I want to be optimistic, I really do. For a few weeks, I had such a great feeling about everything. But the past few days I have been consumed with doubt and fear, and I cannot seem to drive them away. I think it started when I opened my shipment of prescriptions and realized just how much I am putting myself through, all for something that may not work. At least at this clinic, the odds are in my favor, even if only slightly. I’ve also been assured that these are high-quality embryos: two other couples have adopted embryos from this same group resulting in pregnancy. One couple only recently delivered, and the other is pregnant. I just hope that doesn’t mean they’re lower in quality.
It feels crazy, how easily I move between two completely opposite ends of the spectrum within a matter of days. I keep trying to force myself to the middle, the only place where true balance exists. Yet sometimes I can’t seem to locate that place. Instead I teeter totter back and forth, embraced by emotional highs and lows. I know part of this is because I’m still grieving, and grief causes emotional chaos, an emotional chaos that seems to have latched itself on me like a parasite. Maybe one of these days it will permanently let go.
In This Storm 