Getting good at disappointment

The reason I started my blog, was because this is the kind of post that I need to be able to write down. But this is the kind of post that I never wanted to have to write.

Our Saturday morning started off great. Slept in, got the papers and got up to have breakfast. I was slightly bloated, but feeling pretty good.

Then everything went wrong.

I had just walked downstairs in our apartment and heard all kinds of commotion going on outside, 'it's the new cleaners' D said, 'they're giving the place a thorough going over'.

'Great, I'm going to ask them if they have a really long ladder'.

That might sound weird, but D and I live in what could loosely be called a 'warehouse conversion', except we're on the top, new floor. The open stairwell looks great, but we never considered what we'd do when the light bulbs blew - they're the suck in to the ceiling kind. I always intended to ask the buildings cleaners to lend us a ladder. Anyway, I stood chatting with them with just outside the door and they were really friendly and helpful. Numbers were exchanged and D had a chat with them too. They pointed out some exposed wood that might need lacquering, so D stepped outside to have a look and so did I.

The door clicked behind me, the catch wasn't on.

So there's D and I barefoot out on the landing. First D went into someone's apartment and climbed over the dividing walls, and then discovered that his security conscious self had locked our sliding door the night before so he couldn't get in. Then we called a locksmith. We used the phone in a neighbours apartment, they didn't invite us in to wait till he got there.

So we sat on the carpet outside our door. Two hours after exchanging pleasantries with the cleaners we got back in. I picked up both our mobiles and saw that we both had missed calls by 'anonymous'. D looked like he had a message, but he said it was probably just work.

Anyway the day got moving again, and D decided he'd go out and get some lunch stuff and I thought I'd finally have my shower.

In the back of my mind I knew I had to make the call.

By the time I'd showered and re-checked my instructions it was after 1pm and this was the time specified to call the fertility unit and find out how we went.

Nurse: Oh you got my message?
Sparkle: No ...
Nurse: Well I tried calling you, because it's not good news, only 1 of your eggs fertilised so we want you to come in on Monday for the transfer.
Sparkle: Only one, wow, that's not good.
Nurse: Look Sparkle I'm not saying this to patronise you, but it does only takes one embryo. So see you at 9am for 9.45 transfer.

Apparently only 3 were mature for injecting, 1 just deteriorated and the other didn't fertilise correctly.

Apparently after all those fertility drugs, not to mention the acupuncture, dhea and chinese herbs, all I managed to produce were blobs of jello, or something.

At this point in our other cycles we've usually had 100% fertility of either 7 or 8 eggs.

Funny, I thought to myself, I've read about cycles going this badly from forums and other bloggers and now it's my turn.

So this morning I had my 8-celled embryo transferred.

Scientist: It's divided nicely, just what we would want today.
Sparkle: Well there's some good news. What about fragmentation, is there much of that?
Scientist: A tiny bit, but nothing to worry about, THIS IS A GRADE 1 EMBRYO !!
Sparkle: Grade 1, well that's good.
Sparkle: [Thought to myself, but didn't say anything 'well there it is a blob with bubbles inside' I stared hard at the monitor, so I could memorise what it looks like for when I google.]

Transfer went smoothly, and I exited and went straight to have my acupuncture.

I remembered to give the nurse the name of my nail hardener, because it turned out not to be a dream that someone told me in the pick up that I had lovely nails 'and they're real'!

CFG just tutted and told me that I should have been taking the herbs.

Sparkle: But I took the Royal Jelly and the other egg herbs.
CFG: Good, you keep taking, grow embryo. Now you take the H herbs and make the deer antler mixture. I give you 2 bags, you make super strong brew, you put 3 teaspoons in.

Home now, and apartment smells like dead dog while I boil it all up.

That's a raw deal too, because by the teaspoon it's about as pricey as the Crystalle or whatever that stuff is P.Diddy and J.Lo quaff.

I don't even want to know what our chances of success are. I really don't have any hope, but will do all the right things for the next 2 weeks.

How could we have any chance of success with 1x 8-cell embryo (even grade 1) when in the past we haven't with 2x 5-day blastocysts?

I have to have another blood test on Thursday to see how my progesterone levels are going, and then will know if I need another shot.

As I was walking home from CFG, all I kept thinking was 'how is it that I can now take disappointment in my stride so easily'? Maybe because I've now lived thru so many worst case scenarios that I'm just used to it. I think I've gotten so rusty with success, that disappointment just washes over me.