And we're off!

Last night Sean and I sat down in front of our 19 inch television and plopped in a riveting dvd titled Follistim AQ: How to do at home self injections with your Follistim Pen brought to you by Organon. Pen, my ass. Do they think they are really fooling me with the "convenient pocket clip and pen cap"? I know it's not a pen! Go ahead, take that pen cap off, what's under there??? A NEEDLE!

Actually it wasn't all that bad. The anxiety I had stirring within before my dear husband lovingly jabbed The Pen into my thigh (I opted not for the stomach) was far worse. Really. I'm not just saying that either. So we are off and running down the next runway of fertility treatment. Destination Pregnancy. We'll do this for February, and March, while we wait for our IVF appointment on March 10th.

I'm relieved that they will be monitoring me more closely with this treatment. I'll have ultrasounds and blood levels checked throughout this process, so more will be revealed this time around. It's been over a year since my last ultrasound, which I passed with flying colors I might add. I created more than twice the follices they said I needed. But last week after my discussion with the doc and all the talk about my shortened follicular stage pointing to unviable eggs, I was a little nervous to see what has transpired with the production line of my ovaries over the last 17 months. Turns out, not much has changed. I am stil an overachiever they tell me, with 10 follicles on each little kidney shaped egg maker. Give me an O-! And a V-! And an A-R-Y! The twenty-something ultrasound technician with blond streaks in her auburn hair says to not give up and that it's only a matter of time. Despite her much younger eggs, I feel uplifted.

But just before I get too excited about all of the good news, I ran into a co worker in the waiting room. She tells me that she's already done IVF and all her eggs were abnormal and unviable. Wait, did you feel that, everyone? As if some barefooted youngster races into the house and slams the backdoor on a wicked breezy day in April the wind stops and suddenly I'm dead in the water with my sails flapping loosely in the wind.

Oh, well. I guess it's better to know that it may not just be a matter of time now instead of later. I can better prepare myself for that. Maybe it's time to start the adoption process, too. Have it in my back pocket just in case.

This is all so far from how I imagined things would play out. Yet, it is our journey, no one else's. And, honestly, I love our life, I adore my husband, and even though I feel out of control and helpless, I can't help but notice I'm terribly grateful.