Stolen Bases

I'm trying to process through everything related to the frag results. I think the best way I can explain it is via a really lousy sports analogy.

For a long time now, I've been 'taking one for the team.' I've taken one for the good of the team by doing dozens of injections, and blood draws, and enduring far too many transvaginal ultrasounds. I've shoved pills and suppositories into my vagina for months at a time and lived with the raw, swollen state they create. Despite that raw and swollen condition, I've dutifully done my part when our RE tells us to have intercourse repeatedly. I've taken one for the team with all the medication side effects (doxy nausea, prednisone weight gain, estrogen and progesterone mood swings). I've taken one for the team by completely changing my diet - it is July and I have not had one single scoop of ice cream this year. I love ice-cream. Ice-cream brings me joy. I haven't touched it. I haven't touched pretty much anything else that might be inflammatory/high carb/enjoyable/not optimal for fertility. I've gone to acupuncture, which I loathe. I've cut back on my own exercise habits and made time for meditation and fertility yoga. I've risked my career progress by stepping out for dozens of medical appointments. I have done all of this because I wanted our team to be able to win, together. 

Now I find out that my team-mate, who I thought was on my side, has actually been helping the other guys steal bases and telling them the pitches we're going to throw. And he hasn't done that by accident, he's done that because it's felt good to him, so it's a conscious choice. Suddenly I feel completely alone, my entire sense of being a team is gone. Added to that, this season is my last shot at winning the pennant, or the title, or whatever the appropriate award is for this stupid analogy. It's my last shot because my body can't handle any more seasons, no matter how hard I train. But my team mate? He's young and zippy, and with a few months of training he can join a different team with great odds of winning that pennant. And worst of all, I'll still be stuck laundering that team's stinky uniforms and otherwise taking care of the team behind the scenes because they still can't do it without me. I'll still have to take one for the team, if we do DE IVF, even though I'm not a member of the team any longer. 

 That pretty solidly sums it up, although I extend my apologies to any sports fans. I have an appointment with a new therapist today. I think that's good and needed. So much complexity, so much hurt. One of the few silver linings of the last few years to me has been the feeling that DH and I were a better team than we've ever been. It made me feel good about the decision to have kids together. I don't want to be a single mom, in name or in practice, so operating as a team was critical to my desire for kids. All of a sudden, I'm questioning if we really are a team when things are at their hardest - when personal sacrifices have to be made. That hurts so badly. 

 While we haven't talked about it, because I don't think doing so right at this moment would be great for our marriage, I suspect DH is dealing with many emotions, too. Or maybe not. He doesn't read the research, he only listens to me with one ear when I mention it, so maybe he really doesn't understand what a big deal this is. I almost hope that's true. That would be nice.