It’s happening SO.FUCKING.FAST.
LL is on OCP’s (she started Saturday) and we are barreling toward egg retrieval on December 15th. Wut?!
Basically, she got her period last Thursday, got a call, and then the train went blasting out of the station. Partially, the speed is because the clinic closes for Xmas, so we are trying to get things in under the wire. But, it also seems like this process is just a little more streamlined and quick than it was at the clinic in CO.
We had to quickly make our final decision about sperm. It actually wasn’t a difficult decision at all. We had three we liked – two CMV + and one CMV -. Last Thursday we went to go look through them all again, and discovered one of them was no longer listed on the site (?!) Which narrowed it down to just two, and the answer was really clear. We picked the tallish (not the tallest, though) black haired, blue eyed college administrator who is a few years older than us (shocking, I know!) and donated because he met folks who’d struggled with fertility in his parenting classes. There are some benefits we like about his age (like being older when our kid might eventually want to meet him, having a greater maturity about the long term consequences of an open donation) and ultimately, while I don’t think it matters in the least to me if people donate mostly (or even solely) because of the financial compensation (although I continue to feel somewhat ripped off that something so casually discarded in tissues and athletic socks the world over costs over $500 a vial), there’s something I like about his having had personal relationships with people struggling with infertility. Guess I’m a sucker for that?
So, off we go . . .she has some additional blood tests tomorrow, then an office hysteroscopy and “uterine sounding” (they called it a trial embryo transfer when I did it, but “uterine sounding” sounds MUCH more badass) next week. We sign all the consents on December 1st and I believe she starts stims on 12/3. The weekend of the 10th we’ll be in PDX (LL for a conference, Ansel and I to hang out) and are hoping our Seattle clinic will give the OK to have her get blood tests and a follicular u/s at OHSU as that’s just a few days out from retrieval (if not, we have a plan B that sounds stressful but do-able) and then . . .then we harvest some eggs from my lovely wife’s ovaries.
Unlike my experience, where I had to wait a month for a ‘wash-out’ cycle (something I’ve never heard of happening with others . . .), we will likely move forward pretty quickly with the FET (if I didn’t mention, we are having these embryos biopsied, as we did the ones from my IVF cycle, which forces a FET vs fresh transfer) – hopefully, mid-January. Which means gayby #2 arriving smack in the middle of Libra season, which I ain’t mad about at all. (Maybe for my 36th birthday, my wife will give birth to a baby!)
Although we know (from personal experience) that the best laid IVF plans can easily go awry, we are – as we should – smack dab in the middle of hope and daydreaming right now. The excitement of my IVF cycle came after almost two years of failures to get pregnant, and it was like a balm then – the idea of pregnancy being so close. The context this time is so very, very different. But the hope feels magical all the same.
Of course, I’m nervous about things this time that I wasn’t before. Like, where do I fit in and how will all of this work with me on this end? How can I be a good partner to my pregnant wife and use my previous experience to be helpful and not pushy or weird? But there’s a strange, soft note of grief too . . .although the excitement about my beloved being pregnant is overwhelming, there is a bit of a loss there too. Being on this side of things is different, that’s all. For better and worse.
But then Ansel hugs his babies (a gaggle of soft bodied, vibrantly colored, many-ethnicity bearing dolls that a co-worker gave me) and piles them into his cart, or holds one up to the opposite breast while he nurses from the other, and my heart swells because I’m SO EXCITED for him to be a big sibling. I’m a little scared about what life might look like, and nervous about going back to sleeplessness and incommunicative wailing and the foggy exhaustion of a newborn. But I can almost always feel the joy under the fear, the hope . . .
But. It’s happening.
Here goes nothin’.