Running on Low

My optimism was at an ultra high last month starting up with CCRM. But as all of the various test results roll in, I feel my positivity and excitement waning a bit. In a way, it seems like a strange reaction to continually hearing "everything looks normal!" and "Your numbers look great!" I guess I was placing my bets heavily on the prospect of finding a hormone level that wasn't quite right or something similar that could easily be corrected with a prescription, a pill, or lifestyle change.

Last Thursday I went for a hysterosalpingograph (HSG) and associated x-rays at the CCRM Lone Tree office. That was on cycle day 7. The HSG x-rays show my uterus is a little tilty. The dye spilled out from my right fallopian tube rapidly but was a bit delayed on the left side. Evidently, this is of no concern. My tendency towards perfectionism finds this bothersome, but I'm not the expert here! At least both sides are open. The technician was a lovely woman, probably around my mother's age, and very comforting while she explained all of the steps. When the procedure was complete she walked me through the back side of the office to reach the main hallway. As we passed a couple of doors, she indicated, "This is where you'll come for your retrieval and all of our labs are upstairs."

BAM. That was a sudden knock on the head. It took a few more hours to fully sink in. It was the certainty with which she mentioned it, the breezy way she pretty much diagnosed me on the spot. Starting this process with CCRM Of course you realize that IVF or some sort of clinically assisted insemination is a possibility. But I'd never considered the meaningful details of it. The impact it would have on our lives to have a baby with the intervention of lab. Obviously a lab baby is better than no baby, especially if it is genetically yours. But it is a bit of a hurdle to get over, emotionally, to picture that magic moment: you, with your feet propped up in stirrups, hospital gown and paper roll keeping your skin from touching the padded vinyl table. A doctor between your legs injecting your husband's sperm into your uterus in hopes that one little sperm cell finds the egg. Or, if you made the major financial commitment, maybe she is injecting already hatched embryos. And you'll go home with the desperate hope that in several days one of them will attach itself to your endometrial lining. Is Mr. J even in the room with me?

That picture is a far cry from the real magic... a romantic getaway for a long weekend, or maybe just a sleepy Saturday morning. The two of you together, alone, no doctors or technicians. And a couple of weeks later, the excitement of a double line, a dark plus sign, the digital "Pregnant" reading. The excitement of knowing that the two of you are bringing life into the world, just the two of you. Complete magic. Just the way it's supposed to be.