06 March 2009

all kinds of blue

Cycle day 7, stim day 4.5, E2 is a mere 50, no measurable follicles (at the mothership they only measure them once they're over 1cm). At the beginning, aka monday, I saw that we only have 4 to work with anyway-although in my ignorance I thought that maybe some others would join the party.
But no. Or at least, not yet.
So the coordinating nurse who called this afternoon with my E2, ultrasound report and plan update graciously agreed with my articulate assessment: "Shit". 

But for now we forge ahead aware of the slow start and small number-- keep stimming over the weekend, acupuncture today.... next ultrasound and E2 on monday morning- and if things aren't markedly improved and improving, we'll talk about cancellation.

To say I am blue does not quite capture it. In this process, I've held off feelings of "never" by thinking "maybe this time"-- so to have this time looking so bad so early? feelings of "never" are creeping in. I admit I'm familiar with grief (see my other blog). But I also have to admit I have not done much grieving about this yet. OK, that is not entirely true. I did an intense bout right after the no-egg retrieval. But not the kind that comes from sustained awareness of it not working, along with the word never. Intellectually I have always been aware of about the possibility/probability of this not working-- heck folks, I am 42. Nearly twice the age of some of the women whose blogs I read (Hi Nic!). I know how the cards are stacked. But I've staved it off by making my next plan.

But today with the call from Sharon about the incredibly low E2, grief seeped in fast and I felt my stomach drop as if I have already lost something. And now I am lump throated and feel aimless and like as soon as I am done typing, sleep is going to unhinge its jaws and swallow me like a snake. Facing the idea that this might never work is just something I have not done for more than moments or hours-- it is too much to take all at once since it means the loss of so many things- ideas, hopes, imaginings. And I cringe away from it since I know I cannot handle all that it might mean. 

It sucks knowing there is nothing I can DO--all I can do is just wait it out. Do the injections. See what happens. Visualize controlled and sustained growth (come'on follicles!). I need 3 to attempt a retrieval, but with only 4 follicles to begin with, and with such a poor response to the simulation drugs thus far--success, even as far as continuing the cycle, just seems unlikely. So yeah, at the moment, I am all kinds of blue.  Optimistikate will rejoin us shortly.


Nic said...

I am so sorry that things are not going well. Am thinking of you. I hadnt registered that you are nearly twice my age! I really hope those follies kick into gear.

What IF? said...

Kate, I know it's incredibly hard, if not utterly impossible, but try to set the "ideas, hopes and imaginings" aside for now. Tuck them into the "I might revisit you later if need be" box, close that lid tight, and step.away.slowly.

Now's the time to rally for those follies. You're only on stim day 4, which is about a 1/3 of the way, and miracles can happen with acupuncture. Remember, I had five come out of NOWHERE between trigger and retrieval. They weren't visible on the u/s Friday morning and by Monday's retrieval, well, hello!, there they were. You just never know.

I know you had an incredibly heartbreaking experience, but I'm holding out hope for you that this can still change. xoxo -whatIF?

alyssa ettinger said...

oh, sweet kate. i love you bunches. and i'm praying for follicles.

Patience said...

It's too soon to give up hope. Just last week, my RE suggested canceling retrieval because I had a total of 8 follicles, some of which were small. We went ahead anyway, got 7 eggs, 5 of which fertilized! You just never know what will come next.

Joannah said...

I'm so sorry, Kate. I will be praying for you - both for your response to the meds and for your tender heart.


Grade A said...

Oh, Kate, I am so very sorry. I know hopelessness is a mean and ugly thing that latches on. I am willing it to let go of you soon. I know it doesn't help to say "there's still hope," because of course you know that intellectually. It's your heart that is not so convinced. In Spanish, "to hope" and "to wait" are the same verb... I am thinking of you and wish for better news at your next u/s.


Anonymous said...

Hi Kate,

I am sorry to hear about your results, but check Sarah's from her last successful cycle. I think she had a slow start and hers worked out ok. I can't remember if you are on the suppression scheme or not. My first run I had no response whatsoever. Nothing, then in the past two the lupron flare seemed to help. Just wanted to let you know that everyone is different and you obviously can respond. Hang in there til Monday.

This is so hard and unfair. I am thinking of you and hoping for the very best.