Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Preparing for the Worst

I hate these things! (And they are so expensive!)
My beta is tomorrow morning at 10:30am and I am preparing for the worst.

 I ended up taking HPTs on Days 6, 8, 9, 10, and 12. All negative. I started getting worried on Day 8, and the rest of my hope disseminated with each test I took. It was like letting air out of a balloon. HPTs are the devil.

I have to say that perusing message boards at this time was not helpful, especially when other women, who had transfers on or around the same day as me, were starting to see faint positive lines on their tests. I would say probably 90% of the messages I read of people with successful betas had seen positive lines by Days 5-9 or were those who never did HPTs at home. I had pretty much succumbed to defeat until I spoke to my friend Anna online last night. She started the IVF process a month ahead of me (and did a fresh transfer) and is now at the beginning of her 2nd trimester with a baby girl. She told me she did not get a positive until the morning of her beta (Day 14). That did give me a faint glimmer of hope, but the cheap dollar store HPT I took today (Day 12) was clearly negative, so that quickly went out the door.

Part of me is still praying for a miracle, but I know I should not get my hopes up or count on anything positive coming out of tomorrow. I'm dreading the phone call tomorrow afternoon because I know it will be the last nail in the coffin. And let me tell you, each of the negatives on these tests killed me a little bit. You build up so much anxiety and hope to see the faintest of lines because maybe, just maybe today your body has made enough HCG to detect, and even just a faint line is enough to give you some sort of relief...and of course, that positive line would of course provide that relief...but no line means the exact opposite of relief. It's devastation. It's getting the wind knocked out of you. It's having your heart wrenched out of your chest. It's your world crashing down. It's the worst stomachache in the world. It's absolutely the worst feeling in the world, and nobody else could ever possibly understand it unless they've been in your exact shoes. 

I just devoted 4 months (and my entire summer vacation) to this, the countless injections, the hormones, the pain, the dietary restrictions, the physical restrictions, the mental anguish, the loss, the mourning, the money, putting all my eggs (literally) into 1 basket...and to watch it succumb to nothing.

My biggest frustration is we have to start all over again. We only had the 1 normal embryo (and 1 that is currently being re-tested)...so unless the last embryo is normal, we will have to go through STIMS once again, and then more testing, and then another FET...and the next time I will have 4 months to devote to this is next summer, a year from now. Right now I do not know how I can possibly get through teaching another 2 semesters before we can try again. This does not even seem feasible to me. I do not have the energy, strength, or capability to even think about prepping 4 classes which start in less than a month. 

One thing I've learned from this FET cycle is that HPTs are a bad idea. I do not recommend them to anyone. The best case scenario is that you see a positive at some point and your joy comes sooner than your beta. The worst case scenario is that your hope is crushed a little bit each time you test, and then crushed completely on beta day. I think that having it crushed just one time would be so much better than 6 times. I can't promise I wouldn't do them again next time, but I do know I wish I hadn't done them this time.

The beta is in 10.5 hours. Praying for the best; preparing for the worst.

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