Halloween

Time may fly, but
Maya doesn't.

You know the saying, "Time flies when you're having fun"? Well, it flies when you're not having fun, too. I absolutely cannot believe that it's been over a year since we began the IVF process and it boggles my mind to think of all that occurred in the span of that one little year. And here were are, on the cusp of Halloween, staring this monster in the face yet again.

And a monster it truly can be - full of surprises, scares, and sometimes, laughs. Just this last Friday, I went into the office for my first ultrasound. (Not the fun "let's see the baby" kind, but the kind where they shove a wand up your vagina and poke around to make sure there are no cysts or other obtrusions.) When I went to check in, the receptionist asked in a hushed voice, "So have you started your cycle yet?" I didn't think twice before correcting her. "No. I'm still taking the birth control pills like I was told." But it was really that monster lurking and preparing to spring out from the dark. I was supposed to stop taking those pills four days prior. My heart sank and the receptionist said, "Well, he'll go ahead and do the ultrasound anyway." But what did that mean? Was I going to have to wait until January to do the transfer? I had a million questions that kept tumbling around in my mind and I had plenty of time in the waiting room to feel them turn and crash in on each other. And each rotation brought my spirits lower and lower.

Luckily, my mistake did not turn out to be as catastrophic as the receptionist implied. Since this is a frozen embryo transfer, it seems there is a lot more wiggle room with the process. They were able to push back my blood test to see if my hormone levels were dropping as they should, and I even got confirmation that, if those tests are okay, I can do the transfer towards the end of their week in the hospital so I won't have to take time off of work. And more good news: I found out the pills I had to "take" vaginally during the last cycle I get to take orally for this one. Unless you have had these types of treatments, you have no idea how happy that can make a girl. Aside from the news that I wouldn't have to endure (and pay for) meds for another two months, that was the best news I had gotten all day!

But all of this reminded me of the hesitancy I have felt since we started trying 2 1/2 years ago. Although we made this decision together, after 33 years of being childless, it's hard to imagine the changes a baby will bring. But it was even more than that. From the start of our first cycle, I knew we would end up with twins. It was our joke. I had what the lab tech called a perfect uterus. (Too bad no one else will ever see it.) Every blood test came out perfect. I had absolutely no problems at all. None. Yet something in me felt like this wasn't going to work out. Like it wasn't meant to be. And yet we planned, shopped, dreamed. But at every appointment, I waited to hear some sort of bad news. I wasn't dwelling on the negative; I just had this nagging somewhere deep inside. I don't even know if I ever articulated it to anyone, but it was always there peeking out of the crack in my closet door like the monster it was. So although I didn't expect the setback to be my fault, there was a part of me that thought, "Well, there it is," when the receptionist exposed my mistake. I held my breath when Dr. Sueldo came in to do the ultrasound because I was sure he would say I had to wait until January. But he came in, opened that closet door, and "poof!" that monster was gone.

Don't let this monster chase you;
he's super speedy!

And yet, here I am on the eve of my blood test - the one that will determine if my body is responding appropriately and is, therefore, ready to move forward in this cycle - and in the back of my mind I see myself getting negative results. I'm sure there will be some sort of hang-up and we won't be able to go ahead with the procedure. But if the test is okay, which it probably will be, I have another ultrasound (this time to check the thickness of my uterine walls to see if I'll be ready for the transfer) on Halloween. You might think, "Well, that's fun!" And that's exactly what we thought last year when the first ultrasound we had of what we then confirmed were twins fell on Halloween. Really, what are the odds? There's that pesky little monster again, popping up when you least expect him, eliciting some emotion you thought you had conquered long ago. But I supposed, just as in any monster movie, you have to forge ahead. You can, of course, do that running, screaming, and flailing; but you either run ahead or you die, and I'm not ready to die. So, tomorrow, a blood test. In a week, another ultrasound. Until then, I will do my best to peek under the bed, throw open the closet door, and march bravely down darkened halls without fear. And if, by chance, there is a monster in there... well... there may be a little screaming, but I'll do my best to make it out alive.