Friends in Low Places

I have been all over the place lately.  I can go from super happy and positive to bawling and devastated in five minutes.  It's times like these that you need great friends to kick you in the butt and say "You can DO this.  Everything will work out just like it's supposed to!".

On Tuesday night, a friend brought this plaque to work:

We were talking last week about how appropriate it was that we're doing an egg "harvest" during the Fall.  It hadn't even occurred to me, but it doesn't surprise me that she would pick up on it.  She's just one of the most amazing, selfless people I know and I'm so, so glad that she's in our corner.  We brought the plaque to Houston, and it's hanging in our hotel room as a constant reminder of how much our friends support us on this journey.  

Last night as I was packing for our trip, another friend showed up with this:

A group of friends that we work with got together and packed this bin full of goodies.  They even sent 20 one dollar bills for the vending machines at the hotel.  From Paul's favorites (peanut butter and Coke Zero) to the caffeine free tea and Sprite for me, it is obvious how much thought was put into this box.  Yesterday, I spent an hour at Target wandering around because I knew that we needed stuff like this.  However, in true Mary style, I got frustrated and walked out with some shampoo and a bag of Jelly Bellys.  Not helpful.

I'm just humbled by the awesome group of people that we choose to surround ourselves with.  There have been so many times when I questioned telling everyone what we were going through.  Today, I can boldly say that we made the right decision.  All of your prayers, texts and positive thoughts have made this so much easier for me.  And if we stumble this time, I know that you'll be there to help us prepare for the next hurdle.

"Thank You" just doesn't seem like enough, but it will have to do.

Optimal is a Good Word

So the trip to Houston was a success.  According to the BabyMaker, everything looks "optimal" for this cycle.  My ovaries are nice and sleepy- not a cyst or budding follicle in sight, and my estrogen levels have plummeted to abysmal levels (cue headaches and nausea!).  Paul and I high-fived over the ultrasound machine while I was getting re-dressed and agreed that it's great to be optimal.

We are plunging ahead, and I start my 3-injection-a-day regimen tomorrow.  Woo-hoo!  Who knew I could be so excited to jab myself with sharp objects and inject a cocktail of meds guaranteed to make me feel like complete crap?!

I've been Lupron-ized!

As I write this, hoards of mini Lupron warriors are galloping through my body.  My ovaries are shrieking and cowering in fear.   If either ovary so much as thinks of producing an egg,  the Lupron Army will know and assert its dominance.    If they try passing sneaky notes to my pituitary gland in hopes of a Hail-Mary pass?  No go.  The Lupron has it under control too.    You are officially suppressed, little ovaries.  Go to sleep, and await further instructions.

On Egg Patrol- it's serious business!

Tomorrow it begins again.

After 2 years of constant injections, ultrasounds and inseminations, we took 6 years off.  At 7am tomorrow morning, we are starting up the war machine again.  We're going to have our first set of labs drawn to send to Houston IVF.  I didn't know that this crazy combination of excitement and fear was possible.

This group of testing scares me to death.   It includes a full analysis of our chromosomes to make sure that neither of us have a genetic imbalance that keeps killing our babies.  What happens if the tests reveal that we DO have an issue?  We'll keep on the IVF path and test any embryos created via PGS-CCS (Preimplantation Genetic Screening with Comprehensive Chromosome Screening).  Basically, some tech in a lab will take our newly created embryos, steal a few cells, and run tests to make sure they are viable and don't carry a lethal mutation.  The thought of the science that goes into it all makes me sick to my stomach.

There are many days that I wish that we could just have a go at it and make our own healthy babies the way everyone else does.  However, it seems that it is not meant to be for us, and I know that God has a unique plan for our family.   I'm ready to board this IVF roller-coaster and hold on for dear life!