So, uh, hi.

We’re doing our first FET on July 13th or so, to try for #2.  We’re going back to Chicago, to our old clinic, to do it; mostly because the insurance works better in Illinois than it does in Tennessee.  I’ll be doing all the preliminaries at a local clinic and then we’ll be visiting Chicago and oh by the way doing IVF #7.

Obviously this blog has cobwebs on it, and that’s mostly because of Facebook.  If I can dispense witticisms and cute photos of D. from one central platform, then – as we say in TN – “Ima do that.”

But Facebook is definitely rated E for Everybody, and I’m sure not going to put how many millimeters of uterine lining I’ve grown, or whatever,  in my status line.  So I’m going to limit the cycle updates to this blog.  I don’t think anyone reads anymore, but maybe it’ll light up in some people’s Google Reader… like when ET’s heart started beating again or something.

Cycle updates does mean hearing it here first – the stick turning pink and the beta numbers and all that.   Telling the world that I am pregnant, again, at age 47 will be interesting on Facebook, since I have huge numbers of high school and college friends who know exactly how old I am.  So I’ll probably wait until at least 12 weeks.

If I get pregnant again.  We have five frozen blasts, which means five tries.  (IVF#11? please God no)  We’re not transferring more than one ever again.  Because: when there was a 6% chance of ectopic, I had one.  When there was a 5% chance my breech-turned-head-down-baby would flip up to breech again, he did.  When the chances of having an unusual reaction to the epidural was miniscule, I had one.  Statistics are not my friend.  I’m not taking a chance that we’ll have twins.  Now that I know what one baby is like, and what my version of pregnancy feels like – no way could we handle twins.

I have thoughts, about this baby #2 that might be; some deep thoughts.  Some not.  Here are some of them, in random order.  1.  Having an IVF fail: easier, because we already have one.  2.  IVF fail: worse, because time is ticking and we would know what we’ve lost.  3.  Fears of losing the pregnancy: both better, and worse, at the same time.  I guess.  4.  Taking care of a toddler while pregnant: terrifying.  5.  We tried to plan the IVF so that it would result in a due date at the right time, just like arrogant fertile people do.  But it didn’t work out, because my clinic now does cycles on the “batch” schedule.  So if IVF #7 works, the baby will be due during my husband’s last or second-to-last week of school before he comes home for the summer.  Not good.  6.  This means that the cycle will definitely work, right? 7.   I would be VBAC, but I’d have to fight for my VBAC, and I kinda don’t feel like it.  Chance of uterine rupture: [small, I don’t know the number] but see above re: statistics and me.  All that and the fact that my husband is out of town half the week means I am eyeing the “scheduled C” as in c-section.  The ironies of this can’t be overstated, and I don’t care.

8.  and this one is very important: Somehow the moon and stars and everything got flipped around, because I am so fortunate that I am embarrassed.  Even those of us who got our hands on a son or a daughter, by ways uterine- and non-, don’t necessarily have the resources to turn it around and have another.  I haven’t sunk to the depths of how bad secondary infertility feels, and I hope I don’t have to.  I used to think it was ridiculous, but now I sort of get it.  Knowing what you are missing makes it worse.

So, uh, yeah.  I guess I’ll be shooting up some hormones pretty soon and counting myself lucky to be doing it.

Here is a list of infertility abbreviations.