10 December 2009

mangled

...is how my heart is feeling.
sad for Phoebe's negative

sad for K's lost little one
and now also deeply sad after a conversation with my clinic.

We meet with the doc monday after next, but the conversation today was a preview-- we spoke about diminished returns and how they may not be able to suggest another cycle in good conscience since they do not believe it would work. This is an ethical issue of course, and I appreciate that. But futility was not what I expected to talk about this morning when I called. I was hoping for a simple confirmation that we could do an IUI this month (the answer was a yes if the LH surge comes when we can actually do something about it). I was not expecting the donor egg, donor embryo talk.

Even if they say yes, I know it is our last assisted try. And schedule-wise we may not be able to cycle in January anyway, or at least not until the end of the month, so even if all goes well and they say yes to one more try, we'd be off another cycle. and yes I turn 43 in february. I asked about medicated IUIs and she said the same thing, they cannot in good conscience agree if they think there is no real chance of it working. (BUT IT WORKED! I want to yell, at least it almost did! I was pregnant! Please!)

My heart feels like absolute shit.
This is another horrible heart/head schism where of course I know things (know she is probably right, know the stats are single digits at best, know I am probably wasting time, money and effort just to appease my future self), but gosh I feel other things so strongly (I WANT THIS SO BADLY, this THIS which= me plus him) that it is hard to breathe.

My darlin is right, the suckiest kind of suck.

24 comments:

Jem said...

Kate, oh, Kate. This is horrible news. Of course your heart is breaking. I wish I could write something that would help make you feel better. If only words were morphine, or endorphines, I would send some your way.

Jem

P.S. The word verification for this post is "hepiness" which I thinks means happiness from being hep.

IVF 40+ said...

Kate, that was horrible news indeed. I can't imagine how blindsided you must have felt by the donor conversation.
Sending you tea and toast with organic butter and honey because that cannot fail but to calm the storm but just a little bit.

I'm so sorry you have to go through this.
EB

Megan said...

I'm so sorry. This is a very hard place to be.

I wish you peace.

Nic said...

Oh shit Kate, I am so sorry. I really hope that you can have this one last shot. As you said it did work, admitedly not for as long as we had all hope and dreamed of, but the route you took worked. So the figures are in single figures, but there is a small chance. You need to be able to give this another shot.
I hope the meeting on Monday is a little more hopeful and productive.
Thinking of you
x

sprogblogger said...

Oh Kate, I'm so sorry. A couple of things - I've been where you are. If you want to talk, email me your phone number and I'll listen, or talk about how I made peace with it, or simply commiserate - whatever you want. Another thing - I know you and P. Mendell didn't necessarily hit it off entirely, but DE work is her specialty if you need to discuss with a disinterested party. Whatever you need, I hope you can find it easily, so that you can deal with the great big lump of hurt that you've been dealt. I'm so sorry. Please let me know what I can do to help. Thinking of you.

Dirk said...

We are also going through our own sad realizations in light of our repeated failures. I feel for you trying to come to grips with all of this. It's difficult to think your heart may be denied.

My wife and I send you love.

Jules a.k.a. Julie said...

Oh, Kate, my heart aches for you. I know how much a change in plans, even a little change in plans, can throw one off when dealing with IF. I, too, hope that Monday's meeting provides some answers and hope for the cycle you want and need. Don't surrender to the mangled feelings though. Believe and hope. Peace and hugs to you, my friend.

onwardandsideways said...

I've been in that chair and heard those words and yes, it hurts. Badly.

It took me a year plus my 9wk failed pregnancy and the subsequent D&C before I could accept doing DE. And I think I actually took another year 'finding a donor' which was really me procrastinating, in many ways. When I was ready, I found her within a few months.

I'm not saying that's where you'll end up. I'm just saying I understand how harsh it is to hear that DE is your best option. It's brutal.

My heart goes out to you. I hope you can find a next step that feels right to you, whatever that may be.

Take care.

Michele said...

Oh Kate.... Oh honey.... I have no words. To say I am sorry, well, it is an understatement, full but empty, not enough. I wish I could give you a giant hug and a big cup of coffee over which we could discuss why the fuck this is all happening. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I am angry. I am sad. I just wish I could change this.

Thinking of you...

K said...

*hugs* I am so sorry for this.... that's an understatement.... this fucking sucks. I am so so sorry.

IF Optimist, then... said...

Lying here. Crying for you. I wish I had something I could do or say other than I am so sorry and to hold your darlin' tight.

Rain Child said...

My heart aches for you. I can imagine what a crushing blow those words must have been. I am so sorry.

daves51 said...

A quote I came across recently....

“Sorrows cannot all be explained away in a life truly lived, grief and loss accumulate like possessions.” Stefan Kanfer

Some of us are burdened with bigger pieces of luggage to haul them around with. Still, they are precious, and they are mine.

just me, dawn said...

Kate- I am so very sorry, I don't have words that will help but know I am thinking of you.

Barefoot said...

Oh, Kate. I am so sorry.

meinsideout said...

I am sorry and thinking of you.

Phoebe said...

It is a loss, definitely, that needs to be grieved. I hope you can come to some peace with it. Thanks for the shout out for me. I think I'm feeling closure for my eggs, and I actually feel relief about it. It's so fucking hard to keep fighting those depressing odds. I'm at the point where I just want something to work, genetics be damned.

Kate said...

Oh, how sucky. So sorry they blindsided you with this. In my opinion, why should they deny you the chance to up the odds? If they get informed consent from you with you fully knowing what your chances are, I don't see why you shouldn't be allowed to continue cycling until you feel ready to stop. At some point, you'll hit your emotional or financial wall.
I just hope you don't get there because the next round works! A girl can dream, right?

Baby Smiling In Back Seat said...

Oh crap. I'm so sorry.

Joannah said...

I'm sorry, Kate.

Grade A said...

Oh, Kate. How awful to be blindsided with that conversation. By the way, sometimes I think the heart and head aren't even in the same body...

Sending you a soothing salve for that hurting heart of yours...

Billy said...

~hugs~

alyssa said...

i love you kate. so, so sorry

Susan K said...

Kate:
Yesterday, I read your blog via a link from another blog that I follow and I can't stop thinking about how you must be feeling. Although I have never met you, we share a common thread. We also were informed that a biological child would most likely not be in our cards in early December. I remember it like it was yesterday, although it was 2006 - the conversation, the disbelief, the "but's" and "what if's" and "should we try's", and feeling as low as I had ever felt in my life. What a tough place to be for the holidays. It hurts so bad, and there are no words to soothe.

I don't want to sound cliche, but I received a card from a good friend during some of my most trying IF days. I clung to the words on the card, and repeated the mantra to myself constantly: "It will be ok in the end. If its not ok, its not the end."
I hope this helps - or if not, I hope you find some strength in the words of a kind reader.
Good luck. Hang in there.