If I had one wish today (aside from the obvious cuddly, beautiful infant), it would be that, just once, infertility could be a tiny bit clearer, less murky and generally more cut and dry.
Basically, I'm clamoring to get the hell out of this Funhouse.
Ultrasound results: 6 follicles - 16.5, 13, 12, 11.5, 9.5 and 9.5.
My favorite nurse actually came in on a Sunday just to talk things over with us, which brought tears to my eyes (and, no, it's not just the massive amounts of estrogen flowing through my body).
She said that in no way do any of my test results indicate perimenopause. However, this low follicle count likely means that we are always going to have less to work with in an IVF cycle as it is similar to what we had last cycle on the Lupron (long) protocol. Gulp.
In other words, we're probably never going to skip down the hall after an ultrasound basking in the glow of multitudes of follies. Not going to happen. These are the ovaries I have, and like it or not, this is what they're putting out.
So, it's a matter of rolling the dice - do we want to take the leap of faith with 4 follicles (which might be the best case scenario, given that the 9.5ers probably will not catch up in time)?
We are torn.
On one hand, we know that it takes one egg, one sperm to make an embryo. And, one embryo is all we need.
On the other hand, L. is a medical professional, and we realize that the statitstics aren't good here.
But, let's face it, things probably aren't going to get better in subsequent cycles.
The Plan: In a classic sequence of events I will have to recount later, we began Cetrotide today in an attempt to save the Big Girl (the 16.5er). Continue Menopur and Gonal-F.
Sunday night: Pray.
Monday - Pray. Pray. Pray.
Next ultrasound: Tuesday morning and Pray.
Tuesday afternoon: Deliberation/Decision Time.
Damn, IF really sucks.