cancer and IVF procedure with humor and a positive attitude, in the past 8 weeks there have been a few occasions when the general suckiness of it all sets in for a moment.
Today was one of those days.
In the days leading up to the egg harvesting, I do a blood draw every day to check my estradiol levels, along with all the drugs. Every second or third day, there's a transvaginal ultrasound to check the follicle size (imagine them to be like Goldilocks; we don't want them too big or too small, we want them just right).
When the doc inserted the probe, my ovaries appeared on the screen. In that moment, it hit me that I'll never be able to see my baby in there, on that screen. Because my uterus simply won't be there as of April 12th.
My lip began to quiver, and quivering lip begat teary eyes, which began rain pouring down my face. I was sad for what I'm losing, sad for not being able to carry my child, sad for my body's rebellious nature against nature.
After a few moments, I composed myself and headed back to the lobby, where my smiling, handsome husband greeted me with a hug. That made it hurt a little less.