Got my blood test back. I am, unfortunately, not pregnant as of this time.
Yes, I am sad. My husband is faring worse than me. The doctor remains optimistic. There’s only a 60% chance that it would succeed, after all, and I have enough embryos to try again. I’m just sad that I went through all the painful shots for two weeks for nothing so far. Oh well. Five more times until I run out, right? Although if I keep on trying and it just ain’t happening maybe at some point I’ll reassess. But now is definitely not that time. It’s only my first try after all.
So the current plan is to stop all meds until I have my period again. And on the first day of my period I call my doctor and I guess we just do the whole shebang once more and hope for the best? So it’ll be at least two weeks before anything happens – enough time for my super bruised and sore buttock muscles to recover, at least (only to be jabbed more later but, I digress). I read it takes an average of three tries to get pregnant this way, so, hope?
I’m not feeling great today but I’m sure I’ll feel better soon. It just means that I have to do the procedures again and again until it sticks (and, * sigh *, more Covid testing). Like I wrote yesterday, it’s mostly out of my hands, so spending too much energy being sad doesn’t help. Better conserve it for the next chance. Meanwhile I will think and post about happier things, like books I’m reading. (Oh hey, I finally started reading books and finishing them again. Wow. Been years since I’ve done so.) So yeah, it’s not all anxiety and gloom on the horizon.
But maybe just a little bit, today.