I went to the Dr. yesterday, but I felt much different being there this time. I walked into exam room 4 like I have done tons of times before, but I felt very distant. When the NP came in, I said hello - I had met her before, but I didn't connect. It was very routine, very methodical, very detached. I assumed the position and she started to measure the follicles. 5 or 6 on the right ovary and 6 or 7 on the left. If she had stopped there, that would have been great news, but she kept talking. "But they are still very small." Gee Thanks lady, I could have told you that and not spent $250 to hear it from you. So my 12-14 follicles are mostly in the 5-9 range with a couple of them between 9 and 12. I am actually a few days behind where i was last cycle, but with more follicles.
After the NP left, the tears started flowing. Pace was able to go to the appointment with me and I think my emotions surprised him a bit. Actually, I think it made him a little uncomfortable. The truth is...I am tired. I am tired of injecting myself with drugs every morning. I am tired of remembering to take my prenatal vitamin every morning (I have been taking these for over a year now with no freaking baby) I am tired of watching money fly out of our account towards these damn doctors and damn expensive drugs because insurance companies don't feel that I have the right to be covered for my illness. I could handle the emotional stress of infertility I think, at least handle it better than I am, but the financial aspect is just too much for me.
With much encouragement from Pace and a few tissues, I finally gathered myself together and left exam room 4 feeling devastated, defeated, frustrated, broken and damaged. We met the NP at the check-out desk and she wrote a prescription for my meds. 600 more units. $400 more dollars. I just can't believe this. The depression swept over me like a tidal wave. How could this happen to me? What am I being punished for? I haven't always had a close relationship with Jesus Christ, but even when I didn't have one, I really wasn't that bad of a person.
It is hard for me to look at Pace sometimes after we get news like this. Sometimes I feel like he made a mistake marrying me. After all, he may never have his own biological children because he married me. I should have given him an out, I know we discussed my crazy cycles and how it might take a while to have kids prior to marriage, but he didn't sign up for THIS! Neither of us did, but I am stuck with it cause it is my stupid body that is preventing us from starting our family. I feel guilty and I feel like I am holding him back, I am holding everyone back and it makes me so DAMN MAD!
I drove home after my appointment in a daze. It is amazing that I even got home cause I don't remember much of the 20 minute busy highway rush hour traffic drive. I know... I know...real safe. I was trying so desperately to come to peace with what had just happened, I was trying to swallow that jagged little pill and accept the fact that we have spent more on IF treatments over the last 2 weeks than most people spend on a monthly mortgage (and that is a lot in AZ -house prices are RIDICULOUS here! Plus, some of my meds were donated to me so it could have been more)
I got home and thankfully Pace allowed me the time to have my breakdown. Not just a cute, little one either. A snot covering, dry heave inducing, sobbing, breakdown. And he just sat there, being lovingly supportive, handing me tissues and letting me just get it all out. Wonderful man he is...he loves me despite my entire face being covered in snot.
I know that the cycle isn't a total waste, and that the increased amount of follicles is a good thing, but the size is what is killing me. WHY CAN'T THEY JUST GROW? I know that I need to be patient, continue doing the shots, go in for more ultrasounds and just wait and see what happens. But...did I mention I am not the most patient person?
This morning is a little better, I am a little anxious about my volunteer work tonight. I have a pregnant 15 year old coming in with her parents for counseling and I wonder if I will be able to handle it without having a breakdown afterwards. Recent history tells me no, but who knows, I may surprise myself. Only time can tell.