That Age

Last Sunday I turned 36. That week I had my period, but I was able to not get too depressed because I was at a professional conference and was experiencing some career related inspiration and could pretend I was a happy adult.

Today I had my first follicle scan at HMO since before my surgery. We gave ourselves three months of trying on our before going back for treatment. We thought we would be pregnant by now. Instead we are not, and we have decided that IVF is too expensive, the debt would make us uncomfortable and results are not guaranteed. Honestly after following many of your blogs, I am terrified of going through it. But today, HMO called and told me there were no follicle 1cm or larger which indicates I will not ovulate this month. I don't think I've ever not ovulated. The nurse informed me that this common for my age.

So that's it? Not only do I have a fifty-fifty chance each month since I only have one fallopian tube, but now I'm not ovulating at all some months?

Is this the beginning of menopause? How is this possible? 

All I wanted for my 36th birthday was to be pregnant. It feels like we have reached the end with no feasible options. I'm not willing to try IVF and take on the financial, physical and emotional costs. I can't put myself and my husband through that. We agreed a long time ago this would not be an at-all-costs thing. You have to stop punishing yourself at some point.

So we can keep trying on our own, or we can go through HMO and do IUIs on the rare month now that we ovulate, or we can give up, or try adoption, or we can change our minds about IVF. It seems like every decision is fluid in this process because we continue to find ourselves at the end of the line.

Loss and Support

There are so many women who lost their babies in the last week, it is utterly shocking and heart wrenching. None of them deserve this devastation.

Sometimes
Pissed Off and Infertile
Never Surrender
Just Waiting for My Turn

I am so sorry for your losses. 

It has been surprising to me how everyone in the blogosphere is trying to reach out and comfort, commiserate and show their love to those experiencing loss. We all know the only thing one can say is "sorry" "you are in my thoughts/prayers" "sending you love and peace" "it's so unfair" and offering digital hugs. No words can undo the tragedy.

It touches me that all these women, many of whom have never met, are there in an instant to offer support; that all of these women, suffering in their own loss can share their stories, their heart breaks, their hopes and offer absolutely sincere concern and love. In some cases, these digital relationships are more supportive than our friends and family are in real life. Watching as so many of us check back every hour on a blog to get the updates about a doctor's appointment or test results and then how quickly we are to cheer one another on or offer a kind word, is amazing to me.

Steph at Sometimes was the first to comment on my blog, which was really awesome. Then I found out we are in the same city and she offered to meet up and chat. Her comments to my posts made me feel normal, and not completely alone, for the first time during this whole horrible process. She shared some similar emotions, reactions and experiences and it was such a relief, I broke down sobbing. Even though we haven't met yet, these past few days I have been looking around, wondering if she is walking on the same street, or in the same store, because if she was, I would give her a big hug.

The power of a kind word or a shared experience to let you know that you're not alone is remarkable. For all of us enduring the pain of this cycle of hope, struggle and loss, we can provide support like no one else can. We share our biggest hopes, our deepest grief with strangers, and we lean on those strangers to comfort us and congratulate us when things finally go well. These strangers become our sisters in this difficult journey.

I wish all of us peace and strength.