Mr. LastChance and I celebrated the fact that he administered, and my keister received, the last trigger shot of our lives.
We almost celebrated at 1:16 am the other night but held off because--yup--we did a booster trigger yesterday just to 'do something different' (my RE's words.). Estrogen stayed at 6700 or so because Antagon took it down and then the trigger took it right back up.
While waiting for our shuttle bus to take us to our fourth hotel (ridiculous, I know, but we managed to never pay over $40 bucks a night at nice hotels via Price.line--thanks Jill!!) we were soaking up the beautiful Colorado weather and sunshine and reflecting on this journey.
Not just this journey--this wild ride that thus far has encompassed IVF #5--but the whole bloody, grizzled, four+ year journey that has seen us seeking that blasted second line.
If anyone had seen us from the outside they would have imagined we were just a couple talking about something happy and light. We were holding hands, we were laughing--we were, in fact, being happy and light. Even while discussing the fact that this journey has separated us from 90% of the world, and that in so many ways when we're around our fertile friends and their beautiful children or just out in the world, we feel at odds, we feel different. We feel separated by this invisible chasm that runs so deep and wide no one who has not been on this side will ever, ever, understand it.
Different, that's us. But then again, we always wanted to be different. Be careful what you wish for.
But we weren't crying or screaming or pitching a fit while we were talking.
It's that relief. That sheer exhilarating relief of knowing we will never be in the midst of this again.
We reveled in the fact that, for the most part, we've always been on the exact same page regarding treatment. There has never been a time when one of us has said yes and the other has said no. There's never been a time when one of us has wanted to stop and the other has wanted to push forward.
We can, at least, be thankful for that.
But really, for so much more.
I guess it's true of so many struggles in life--if you have a good, solid partner in life you hunker down together, hands, hearts and souls united, and emerge on the other side a stronger unit. I know that's the case for us. Some days I'm not sure how we got so lucky in that regard.
Lucky? Did I just use the word 'lucky' related to our infertility struggle?
By God, I did.
And now I'm tearing up because we are almost there.
Please God, please please please let there be some good eggs (we'll take even just one!) in my ovaries today. Please let them fertilize...please let us be, for once, not different. Just normal. Just plain vanilla regular no sprinkles on top normal.
3 years ago