Some of you may have caught a FB status from Saturday about my trip to the ER. After a late lunch with Andrew, I had very sudden onset severe epigastric pain. It was 10/10 — the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ll spare you all the gory details, but I turned gray on my way to the ER and couldn’t find my peripheral pulses, so I was pretty convinced I was hemorrhaging into my abdomen and my last few minutes on this earth would be spent whimpering in the passenger seat while Andrew drove. Glamorous.
Long story short: I didn’t die. Turns out I just have a bunch of gallstones & my gallbladder needs to come out. I know. I know. I should be grateful that’s all it is. And I should be relieved that it’s a relatively easy surgery in regards to recovery time. And I should be happy that this happened while not pregnant.
But I’m not happy. Not even a little bit. Because surgery and IVF don’t mix. Let me let you in on a little secret, since it doesn’t matter anymore. Had I gotten to go through with my IVF protocol as prescribed, and had it worked, I’d be pregnant by the end of this month. This. Month. I was due to start stimming with hormones this week, and my egg retrieval and embryo transfer were likely to be in the 3rd week of August.
Yup. I was that close to actually having a real chance at a family. That is no more. Now I have to wait until I graduate so I can get my gallbladder out. Then I have to recover, which takes 1 to 3 weeks. Then I have to start my IVF protocol from the beginning … Which means at least 30 days before even getting to the hormonal stimulation part. So that’s another two months before I get to the point where I am now.
But Gia, you say, two months isn’t that long! Time will fly by!
It might fly by. It might not. That’s not the point. The point is that sometimes in IF it feels like everything, including (and especially) your own body, is trying to sabotage you. And sometimes you just feel like you need a break. Like just once something needs to work out in your favor.
So my apologies, friends, that this post isn’t snarky & there’s no lesson in it. Or whatever. That’s what it feels like with IF sometimes — you’re left wondering what the point of it all is.