So lately I have been thinking about two IVFy things- context and envy--both of which reveal just how psychologically twisted this whole thing is.
Let's start with context-- after this retrieval I had the realization that if I am fearing or expecting no eggs, or just one or two, and get 4, it feels like a miracle. If I am, for whatever reason, hoping, praying, expecting, say, 8 eggs and get "just" 4, I feel bereft.
the 4 are the same.
the stats are the same.
the difference is the context in which that information arrives-- isn't it amazing that the same number can breed euphoria and dismay? Goes to show it is not inherent in the number, and it is in every way influenced by what I want, what I fear, what I expect, what I long for, what i dream about...
I looked back over some old cycles (no worries, this was before transfer, I'm trying to stay all sunshine and roses at the moment)-- and I realized that with the exception of our first real full IVF (8 eggs! 5 embryos!) 4 is good for me.
Hear me, me:
4 is good for me.
Then there's envy- IVF envy ferchrissakes, of all things. I am talking in my age group here, as even in my age group I have found plenty to envy. I find myself envious of other women's fabulous stims, their follicle counts, their eggs retrieved, their embryo-making, their 3 day counts, their embryo grades and cell counts, their 5 day blasts! Oh! if only! I say to myself, if only I had many more chances this time around, oh and some to freeze, to try again if this fails, how wonderful that would be!
But it does not matter how wonderful that would be. It is more likely I'd spontaneously get pregnant from a romantic encounter than to have enough embryos to freeze. But this time, I really imagined I might. I really did. I daydreamed about it. And so, yeah, ugly as this is, envy. Envy for women who get pregnant their first cycle. I hate admitting this. I really do. It is embarrassing. Heck, I envy the relationship some have with their RE's, I envy the feeling that the RE is doing everything possible, leaving no stone unturned. Researching in the off hours... whatever.
It feels so improper, like envying an appendectomy.
I guess I wanted to come clean about it because I feel weird knowing I feel this way, and I have not said it outright that i can remember. Feel awkward as I comment on blogs and say congratulations when (parenthetically) I cannot help but wish it were me too. My congratulations are sincere. But so is the underlying envy. I wish it were different. So yeah, here's my dirty little secret. Or, at least, one of them.
Thank you for listening.