“I started out for God knows where… I guess I’ll know when I get there.”
I don’t think that any statement could be more accurate to describe where we are at right now. We had our “wtf” appointment with the Dr. yesterday, and we have more questions than we did walking in. Our Dr. is nice and supposed to be one of the best, but that certainly does not include her style of delivering information. She reviewed our notes AFTER we sat down with her (I am not even sure if she knew the transfer failed until she read it on her computer screen.) She tells us that we have PGS tested embryos, that I have a perfectly good uterus, and the transfer was timed to the minute according to my previous ERA test. There is no explanation as to why it did not work. She tried to joke with us and say that maybe it was the fault of the Dr. who performed the transfer, but Jeff and I were lacking our sense of humor on this day and could not find one ounce of humor in this situation. When asked about my updated blood tests and if she could compare it to last years, she said, “Last year seems like just yesterday.” I had to correct her and say that to us, it felt like eternity. Once again, my numbers looked great. In fact, my AMH (Anti-Mullerian Hormone) went up from .78 last year to 1.27 now. Which means that if I were walking into the clinic today with that number, I would not have been given a diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve! How is that for a mind f***?! If that is not our issue, then what is?!
She informs us that she will be putting our name on the list to be “reviewed by the Doctors” this month, and she is going to Denver next week for the American Society for Reproductive Medicine conference and “might learn something new.” The “game plan,” that has been laid out for us, is to leave and wait for the phone call from the nurses in the next few weeks, to find out if she has any new information to share with us.
That. Is. It.
That is all the hope we have to comfort us and hold on to until the next time we transfer. I am not quite sure if that is enough to sustain our faith over the next few months, but I guess we don’t have a choice.
I have “Learning to Fly” on repeat every time I get into my car. I watched Tom Petty in an interview where he talks about the meaning of this song, and how it is becoming a philosophy of his. “You can lay down and let the tragedy overwhelm you or you can fly above it and I think that is sort of what I am trying to say in that song. I don’t say that I can fly, I’m learning.” I think that is all that we can do. We are learning to fly around infertility and figure out how to maintain a sense of sanity in the process. Some days are hard, and other days are impossible. We are doing the best we can and for now, we have to accept that.
“I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings.
Coming down is the hardest thing
Well the good ol’ days may not return
And the rocks might melt and the sea may burn
Well some say life will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I’ve started out for God knows where
I guess I’ll know when I get there”
Learning to Fly by Tom Petty
breakdown and rally 