Thank you so so much to everyone that has commented over the last 24 hours. I usually respond individually, but I don't have a laptop, so I'm posting from my phone, which is tedious.
I'm at a loss for tv at the moment--I'm all caught up on on show I rented, and the other (in treatment) is too nerve wracking. Husband will go out later and stock me up on the good stuff.
Even though this cycle is merely in the middle, I am thinking ahead to the "what if's". Our plan has been to move on to donor egg and donor sperm, which is doable. But there are moments when I say to myself "is this really me? Is this really my life? Am I really faced with these choices? These losses?" The feeling I have when I ask these questions is disbelief. I'm not angry, or feeling persecuted (which I've felt quite a lot of), but shocked and suprised at the burden my family will carry. Even if we were to adopt, there would be this disjuncture. There will be times when things are seamless, and other times when the stitches we used to piece our family together will be undeniable.
One thing I'm suprised at is that the question on "why" now holds so little interest for me. I don't particularly care to worry about what is wrong with my eggs (if there is anything wrong with them aside from age). I used to fell plauged by this question, but now it is not as important to me.
While I dearly hope that I'm pregnant, if I'm not, I'm getting ready for what, and who(m?) comes next.