PerchanceToDream

Beta = 5 so we’re out for this round.

Doctor hasn’t called me back yet so I have no ideas about the next step.

My coworkers just threw me a nice lunch which included an ice cream cake.

But it really isn’t the same.

11dp5dt

Today is beta #2. But in all honesty, starting with a beta of 15 doesn’t give me hope for anything.  Yes, I’ve read the 6 or 7 posts of people who HAVE had similar first betas and have gone on to have actual children. But that’s 6 or 7 out of the whole internet which is a low enough percent for me not to expect anything other than a chemical from this.

Which doesn’t really explain why I bought 2 FRERs yesterday and used one to get a light (not faint line).  FRERs are evil and way too sensitive. They just feed into my self-destructive behavior….

I DO thank all of you for your kind and supportive comments. It’s very nice to know that people I’ve never even met are pulling for us and it makes this all a little less lonely.

So I’m waiting for the nurses’ call which I’ll probably let go to voicemail because I really just don’t want to have the conversation.

Yesterday the movers came and cleared out out apartment.  They were there for 5.5 hours.  We are left with the few things we’re taking with us, an aerobed and a very confused dog and cat.

It is hard not to equate the empty apartment with my empty(ing) uterus. Everything just feels vacant.

I’m trying hard to figure out why everything feels like an ending instead of a new beginning.  I’ve moved states (and countries) before so it isn’t like this is new to me.  I think the specter of this failed IVF, my fear that we won’t have a chance for another round, my husband’s reluctance to move into adoption (he’s willing to do so for me but not interested in it otherwise), and the general stress of moving from someplace I’m otherwise happy in are just getting intertwined.  I DO know intellectually that there will be great aspects to this move.  I just can’t emotionally connect to them.

My co-workers will be saying goodbye to me today complete with an ice-cream cake and hubby and I will go to one or two of our favorite places tonight where I will either be indulging in some evil combination of sangria and sake or confusedly abstaining. The one thing keeping me together is that I know that one way or another I’ll come back to NYC, even if it isn’t to live. (If we do another IVF, it will be here and I’ll probably have a conference or two to attend for work).

If any of you co-bloggers live in Nashville, I’d love to hear from you once this all sinks in and I actually accept that we’re moving tomorrow

The thing I wanted least has happened.  I went for my beta this morning and it was……….a whopping 15.

Neither positive nor negative but in the back of my mind I had some feeling that the dark-light-dark HPTs and the on-off symptoms might mean a chemical.

Back to the doctor’s on Monday but crying today….

Growing up, Thanksgiving was always a great holiday. My paternal grandparents would have 40 or 50 people over for dinner in their finished basement and, as the only child in the family, I loved all of the attention and festivities. It was also my grandparent’s anniversary. Being in retail, the national holiday meant that my grandfather could close the store so they took advantage of the time off and got married then.

Ever since my grandfather and mother died and I moved away from home, the holidays have been different. I make a full thanksgiving feast for my husband and I (and the animals are more than happy to pitch in eating things) and I still get up in the morning to watch the parades on TV and call my dad. But every year I miss those huge parties and memories of my dad and uncle playing catch in the middle of the street and the candles running down the length of the huge table.

Last year, we knew what we were grateful for. My husband had just arrived in the US a few weeks before so we ate, drank and enjoyed the paper Hallmark turkey centerpiece that my dad sent us when we were living in the UK.

This year, if all goes well, it will be the last one we spend, just the two of us. I will be drinking my non-alcoholic champagne and trying not to count the hours down until the ultrasound on Monday morning. But I know that we’ll be giving thanks in advance for what we hope is a positive outcome.

It is hard to walk the line of hedging bets. I still try hard to couch comments in “Ifs”..”If all goes well”, etc. At the same time, I don’t want to look back and regret not allowing myself to feel the joy of these moments. And I can’t help but hope that we’re creating our own traditions that our child will someday look back on nostalgically. Maybe my paper turkey will be passed down and become a family heirloom. You never know.

I hope that you all have a wonderful holiday and that the wishbone brings you your most treasured dreams.