Here We Go Again

First round of meds from
round one IVF in 2011

Back in August I decided that I had better switch from daily vitamins back to prenatals. It was a small decision, but you'd think those first pills were hormone injections from the feelings of hope, anticipation, and dread I felt as they slipped down my throat.

Two days ago I had to call the fertility specialist and announce that I had indeed started my period. Now, this is not something I generally announce to my doctor, let alone the world, but I was following the rules. (I guess this would be an excellent time for a disclaimer. Since I am going through this process again with a reading audience, I will be documenting in much detail what I am experiencing. I will do my best to give warning if something might offend the sensitive reader, but some things may get past my already-lost-my-modesty-through-IVF-and-childbirth-three-times sensor. So consider yourself warned.) Back to my period. I'm not sure about all fertility specialists, but in this office they run all the women on the same schedule. So, when you start your period, you call them so they can get you on birth control pills. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but it's not if you really think about it. First, it helps them to get all of the women on the same schedule so that they can have a designated week when they're in the hospital for procedures. Second, birth control pills trick your body into thinking that you are pregnant, which is why you don't get pregnant. They will transfer the blastocyst when my body already thinks it is two weeks pregnant, so starting off with birth control pills is actually a natural choice... once you've really thought about it. And tonight I take my first pill.

Once again, a very small pill signifies something great and I'll admit, I've been experiencing mixed emotions as of late. I look at friends who are pregnant or who have new little ones, and there is a blend of anger, jealousy, and happiness. I have mourned with a friend over recent pregnancy loss, which took a toll on us both (although clearly on her more than me). I feel the hope of making it through this process and having a little person - someone half me and half my husband - and that seems amazing and somewhat impossible. And terrifying. I doubt every time I do something and I feel the weakness in my back or the grinding in my hip and I wonder if my body can make it through this again. I fear that searing pain and helplessness. My head fills with memories of hospitals, injections, ultrasounds, medication, tears, plans, hopes, inquiries, and uncertainties any time I let my mind wander. And I know I have full control over this decision whether or not to move forward, and yet it doesn't feel like a choice. It feels like it's the only option I have - we have - to ever feel whole again. And so we move forward and try not to look back too often. And it's all I can do.

So what is forward? Tonight, it's taking my first birth control pill in a year... along with my horse pill of a prenatal vitamin. Wednesday, it's returning to the fertility specialist for my protocol appointment where I'll learn how exactly this process will be different from our first. Then it's on to hormone injections, weekly appointments and blood draws, and waiting.

I've had several people ask how I'm feeling about this whole process. Although the true answer changes frequently, overall, I am optimistic. I believe the major issue was what my perinatologist called a "triplet thing" and, to some extent, really couldn't be helped. The secondary issue of my cervix shortening can be discouraged through a minor outpatient surgery. These things give me hope that our second time through will not be for naught. But I haven't yet stepped foot into that fertility office again and I honestly don't know how that will feel. On the one hand, it's a step in a positive direction for us. On the other, it may feel like a dark deja vu. I suppose it would be naive of me to expect anything in this process to be simple or straightforward. So, as my mom used to say, we'll keep on keepin' on, taking it one step at a time, and see what happens. Heeerrre we go again!