Tomorrow we'll hear if either of our embryos made it to blast and biopsy. I am not optimistic.
I know, intellectually, that the consequences of these cycles are less impactful than any previous cycle. The difference between no living children, and more living children is vast. We've already crossed to the side of that chasm we desperately hoped for, so these cycles can not possibly have the same impact that our first six did.
While my brain knows that we'll be completely fine and happy no matter what happens with these cycles, my emotions are another matter. My mind feels like a tiny animal, trapped in a cage and racing around it trying to find the exit. In this case, instead of an exit, I'm looking for the answer to what will happen.
I've heard it said before, "It's not the fall that kills you, it's hitting the ground at the end." I think that doesn't hold true for me in this situation. The fall is what's killing me. Once I hit the ground, I can have closure and begin to move on. While I'm still falling, there's the terror of knowing that hitting the ground is likely, and the hope from the possibility of rescue.
We have two, maybe three IVF cycles left before my insurance coverage runs out. I figure that's six months, plus the month-long wait for PGS results. That means I've got 6-7 more months of falling. If we get euploids, it'll be many months more than that, but I'll cross (or jump off) that bridge if I can get there! For now, I'm pulling out all my tools for calm and acknowledging that it's ok to hope for the possibility of rescue, even when the probability is hitting the ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment