So much to say, where to start?

Hello my dears.

I'm sorry I've been MIA. I have been struggling with switching to a new donor, and honestly didn't want to put much down for posterity. I always think about what my children will think when they read my blog years later, and I've been so confused and sad that I couldn't really say anything worth writing.  

Remember when I wrote this post  and this post?  These were my wrestling with the idea of the illusion of the donor, and my connections to her, no matter how slim, that were comforting to me. And then I got down right attached, and excited. And then she was disqualified. Next came the lightning round of donor choosing, and here we are, one week from starting lupron. Zowie.

I think one of the hardest things for me to remember is that no matter how I feel about the donor (ecstatic, horrified or indifferent [none of which I feel]) that hopefully there will be a real live human [baby] in 10 or so months who will displace all who came before her (or him) in my mind and in my affections. In the midst of all this identity crisis, and limbo, it's so hard to feel like the future will hold anything other than what is right here, right now.  And yet, it does. Just to look back one year and see where we were, that also seemed impossible to live beyond. 

So I'm here in the train station again. My companions have departed. The tote board says that my train arrives soon, but for now, it's just me. Officials wandering through, wind blowing debris around the tracks, but still here waiting.

******

The way my clinic organizes things is the IVF nurses handle the IP's and the donor coordinators handle the donors. So my same old favorite nurse, who never ever tires of my endless questions, and always laughs at my jokes, will be my contact person. She said she'll call me after each of the donor's appointments, and let me know how things are going.

I feel absurdly confident that her part will go well.  I'm preparing myself that all of this suppressing and then reanimating my cycle might not go well, and if my lining isn't stellar, we won't go ahead with a fresh transfer. If I haven't learned anything else from this IVF business, putting your head in the sand and hoping for the best is NOT the best strategy. So, hopefully we'll have a transfer during the 2nd week of June, but if not, I'm counting on frozen embryos. If two 25 year olds can't make a few frozen embryo's, what is this world coming to?

You'll be hearing a lot more from me soon!

Comments

[Cindyhoo2]

Oh sweetie, you are being hard on yourself. We all long for a sense of control and it would feel great to have some sort of connection to the donor. But you know, all those connections still left you at the station: ticket in hand. This young stellar donor may just yet turn out to be the vehicle you have needed to get your cycle out of the gate. And trust me, once you are preggo, this donor is going to grow on you. :) but I am so sorry that you are struggling to find your zen.

[NoodleGirl]

Yay, can't wait to follow this cycle! I'm so happy your beloved nurse will call you after each of the donor's appts - that's awesome! With other gals, sometimes they didn't heard anything from the time the donor started stimming until ER so they had no idea how things were going. Yay for information!

[Are You Kidding Me?]

Much luck! I know it's hard to let go of an illusion of connection, but next year, when you're holding a take home baby, I think you'll wonder what you were fussing about. I hope your lining is perfect, and you can go straight to transfer.

[kate]

Here's to 25-year olds and their absurd fecundity. You'll be crawling with embryos in no time. Which is a pretty horrifying image, if you think about it. Okay, never mind. But you know.

[Sweet Georgia]

Sorry you've been having a rough time of things. I'm so excited for you that your cycle is starting soon. I think the fact that your favourite nurse is involved in your cycle - I think it bodes well for you. Hugs!

[Summer]

Yeah, the train station. Always hated waiting there. But, hopefully it won't be much longer before you get to board that train.

I love it that your favorite nurse will continue with you!

[Eva]

I have everything crossed for you. I hope this is it!

[Sara]

The train station is the worst. Well, no, actually, it's the second-worst. The worst is outside the station with no ticket and no money. I'm so excited for you that you're about to start, but I can understand why you are having trouble getting excited. After so many false starts and changes of plans, it's totally understandable that you're a bit gun shy. Bon voyage!

[Paige]

I always wonder what my future children will think of my blog too. I'm very aware of that as I write like you are. I think you are right. When our babies show up, we will forget all this turmoil that happened prior. There is unbelievable happiness in our future. I have to believe that.

[jaded]

I see the hope in this post and i'm right there with you. Life changes as you noted, things can and do get better and nothing will happen unless you take steps like the ones you are taking.
I love the analogy of your current situation and being in a train station - very beautiful.

[Next in Line]

I can't wait for you to start to feel a connection to your baby. That will be the most important and magical connection of all. I am cheering and hoping for your June transfer.