Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I did not acquit myself well at the RE's

I did an Equate when I got home from work yesterday. It was a stark white negative. A Big Fat Fucking Negative, in fact. This morning I did another Equate and a CVS test, the last two tests in my stash. Negative again on the Equate. A faint faint line on the CVS. Seeing as Equate is really the only test that has never steered me wrong with evaporation lines or other weird pseudo-positives, I tend to trust it.

I really think it's over. I think the embryo tried hard to implant and made it for a couple of days, and then failed.

I guess at least I got further than I have done previously, which is something to be grateful for.

So, anyway, I went for the beta this morning. I will know the results sometime this afternoon. My guess is that it may be something like 8. Or 12. I just hope that it's not in that limbo where they make me keep taking the progesterone and go back for a repeat beta when I know that'll be completely pointless and will just prolong the agony.

I was actually doing OK at the office, until I went back to the reception desk to pay. There in front of me was a perfect looking couple, in perfectly tailored clothes with perfectly expensive accessories. As I walked up they were inquiring if their daughter's photo was still on the baby board. The receptionist said she was. The husband sauntered back past me with his travel mug of coffee in hand and was all "oh look honey, here she is!" Then they started animatedly discussing the current success and waving their ultrasound picture around, and asking the receptionist to call one of the nurses out from her office so she too could look at the picture. At this point I knew I was falling apart and stepped back around the corner out of sight and started to sob. The nurse came up, rushed straight past me and started oohing and aahing over the fucking ultrasound. The wife was saying things like "we hope it's a boy this time". At least, that's what I could hear from the inside of my overlarge handbag as I stuck my head in rummaging for a tissue and trying to hide my face. Well, I'd have got my whole body in there if it would have fit. If only it was a teleportation handbag that could have whisked me away someplace, anyplace, else. They took forever over paying, and then finally left. I sobbed some more, then managed to compose myself enough to walk up to reception and get out a strangled "at least it works for some people" while handing over the credit card. Of course the receptionist was duty bound to say "it will work" in a soothing, concerned voice and "they tried many many times, and they did what you're doing now" which I took to mean they too had gone to another clinic. But I don't really know. I just wanted out of there. And frankly, most people I've met who've had multiple IVF failures are a damn sight more sensitive to the feelings of others in the RE's office than those two were, so not sure how well I believed the receptionist. I rushed out, tissue in hand, and sobbed in the car some more.

And now I'm at work, trying somehow to concentrate, and knowing that I'm going to fail miserably. How on earth do I get it together to do IVF#6? How on earth did this become my life?


June Bug Momma said...

{{{{{{{Sarah}}}}}}}} I read your opst and started to get teary eyed. ;o( I can imagine how hard it is for you and I am sorry you had to hear that at the clinic. Could they be anymore obvious in a fertility clinic? Ugh! That is just so not right!

I am hoping your BETA comes back strong! My fingers are sooooo crossed for you! *hugs*

Stephanie said...

I'm so sorry, Sarah.

Sorry that people can't be more sensitive. Sorry that people behind the desk at an RE's office don't know any better what to say than anyone else. Sorry about the pregnancy tests.

And, mostly, sorry that your handbag *isn't* a teleportation handbag.

I know it isn't likely that today's beta will be anything but bad news. But, I can still hope a bit, can't I?

I just hope, whatever the result, that it's clear and you know what to do from here. At least, in the face of this hardship, there could be some mercy.

Anonymous said...

Gosh, can it be any harder today? That is one of the worst things that could have happened to you on beta day. Why does this crap happen? I am so sorry you had to go through that. :( I am sorry that it doesn't seem to be working. I am still holding out hope, of course. Again, I am so sorry you had to deal with that. :(


Knock Me Up said...

That just really sucks. In the one place you'd think there would by empathy and respect for the situation of others you had to cope with that. I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you to keep hoping but I know you are being a realist and recognizing what you see as the most likely outcome. I really was hoping for you this time.
I'm so sorry.

calliope said...

I am just in a suspended state of shock. It isn't supposed to be like this. People that have to deal with years and years of hell should be able to get a fricken bfp and have it stick.
holding my breath and still hoping.

MargieInAZ said...

I'm so sorry, Sarah.

adbwifey0804 said...

I'm sorry. The way you described your experience this morning was very real. I actually imagined all you just typed and how I'd feel. I am sorry that this is happening.

gabby said...

OMG, Sarah. I'm so sorry. That office situation was horrible. I have to hope that people who've gone through multiple failed IVFs have more sense than that. The receptionist probably meant they went through IVF (1 for the girl and 1 for a boy--or so we all hope it's a boy :rolling eyes:) not a zillion clinics. I'm really sorry the tests are negative. With my chemical, my beta was <5 when they tested me which felt like a slap to the face--I can't even get my clinic to see I'm getting chem pgs. Anyway, good news is you got implantation to happen. That's a huge step forward!

katty said...

what a f*****. I'm so sorry. I really am so very sorry. I so want this to happen for you. If all of us out here hoping can make it happen, it will happen, because I know there are many of us willing it on.

Anonymous said...

I know that no words from anyone can make a difference and that it is hard enough to do the beta thing after the HPT thing without having failure shoved in your face at the RE's. I'm hoping that your urine was just too diluted and the beta tells a happy tale. Either way, you are in my thoughts and prayers and I just wish you could catch a break soon. No one should have to bear this pain or have to go through this process. I'm sorry.


Kim said...

Damn. Damned pee sticks, damned IF-amnesiacs. Damn.

Carey said...

Crap... I'm so sorry about the hpts & the insensitive couple... WTF is wrong with people?!?!?

JackieJane said...

Sending you love.

Emilin said...

Thinking good thoughts for you and wishing the beta will prove you wrong.

Anonymous said...

People can suck. I bet the rich couple with latest ultrasound shot have like the pits of a relationship. Not to sound like a right wing christian- but have faith.


Sara said...

Ugh. I would have lost it too. That behavior is totally unacceptable in a freakin' fertility clinic!

I'm so sorry that you're dealing with this, and am still hoping for a happy outcome.