Wow...where is the time going? Already Wednesday, and no end of the bottom of my To Do list in sight! I must say, maybe deciding to move halfway around the world with my beloved pet in tow, to live with a guy that I have only known for a little over a year, in an apartment that I chose over the internet (although he took many great pics), with no real job and a rather decimated bank account...is a bit much stress (without throwing IVF into the mix). Everything I read points to NO STRESS during IVF. So I hope I haven't blown it right from the get-go, simply by having an inherently stressful life without even factoring in fertility issues. Sigh.
Ok, I've just given my head a shake. Now is not the time to worry about all of this...after all isn't worry just another form of stress?
The big topic of the week with European man and I is....how many eggs. (Ok, now let me add an aside here - I hope this is a problem we will be fortunate enough to have. Because as I said previously, I think eggs are much more mysterious than anyone wants to admit. And if I may be so bold....I don't think the doctors have a darn clue. Truly.) So the question is, an old dame like me produces, through purely artificial means, a heap-o-eggs. Which then get sucked out via a needle (la-la-la-la hands over ears eyes squeezed tightly shut I am not listening I cannot see I don't want to know) and then my man's swimmers do their thing. So pretend they suck out 15 (fat chance although when they checked me in May I did have 21 follicles, but apparently a follicle doesn't mean there is an egg) and then the swimmers have sex with them them and somehow 7 embryos (or whatever you call them) grow (I hope I am getting this right...because, as I said in a prior post, after the sex bit I get somewhat fuzzy on the details regarding human reproduction). And let's pretend all 7 do turn into good nice embryo thingies (ok we are now in fairy tale land but for the sake of argument, let's pretend - and of course don't forget that no one really has a clue as to what the characteristics of a "nice" embryo are, or I suspect the IVF stats would be WAY better). Of those 7, because the doctors tell me I am an OLD dame of 42 (listen here boys, I AM NOT OLD) they can legally, at least in the IVF clinic where I am getting this done, take a turkey baster and shove in as many as I and my man would like. After which it becomes a genetic, a uterus lining and a who-knows-what-else crapshoot as to which ones "stick".
So my initial response is...ok....so I have 7...and I am an old dame...and this is not cheap....just stick em all where the sun don't shine and let's see what happens.
Nope. Wrong answer.
Because, as I have now been informed, there are all sorts of Horrid Nasty things that happen if you have more than one child at one time in the same body, particularly if you are an Old Dame. Don't get me started on what they are....I get a headache just thinking about it. So what to do? Shove in 1 and take the ultimate gamble? Shove in 2 and maybe get one? Or two? (Ok two is good, I can handle twins....I think? famous last words?) Shove in 3 and get all 3 and horrid diseases and chaos and mayhem and bankruptcy? Shove in 4 and...well...I don't think I have enough real estate to fit 4 and as for the rest, not even going there, more la-la-la hands over eyes etc.. Or, of course the big white elephant in the room....shove in whatever, and get nada. Ok..not going there..not going there...
I think analytical risk-adverse European man put it best, in his genuine and very endearing Terminator accent:
"If ve haf vone....dat is ok but hafing an only child iz stewpid. If ve haf two...dat iz best but you are to skinny for 2 vere vill you put them? If ve half zree...well zis is not good but ve vill make do...somehow. If you tell me ve are hafing 4....I AM GONNA BE PISSED".
So I guess 4 is out. I am for 3 eggs, he is for 2. I am figuring I have one shot at this....so go large. But having said that I have zero interest in being the worlds next octomom. Or having a, as the doctor euphemistically put it, "selective reduction" (ok let's call it like it is folks...going in there, playing big CEO in the sky and offing one and risking the others while you are at it) which is just SO not something I would want to have to deal with. Not that I have a problem with what other folks do, I am pro choice all the way, but it just doesn't sit right with me for myself. Heck, I can't even kill a spider, and I HATE those suckers and wouldn't bat an eye if they had never been invented.
So three...vs two. And as you ALL know, any woman worth her salt always gets her way in the end...so I am thinking that assuming I can even generate 3 good ones (!?!) that's what it will be. Heck, I might even risk 4 if I was feeling particularly wild that day. And with my luck all 4 take, 2 split and I end up with 6. Nope nope nope, ok back to 3.
On a completely unrelated note, the BCP has receded into the background. Even ditched the seasick wristbands last night....and it's all good. I guess it just takes a few days for ones body to acclimatize to the hit of drugs. Just for those of you who are going through the same thing...give it a few days and it will go away. Oh, and no moustache or zits yet either....but hey...not holding out for a miracle here, I'll take it as it comes.
Have a great evening and thanks for reading...nice to know that I am not on my own in this one!
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