The beta fell. It was 74, now it's 73.
I think we all know what this means. I'm sure someone has heard of some story of some couple whose HCG level stayed the same for a while and then grew, but it's less likely than winning the lottery. This cycle is done for. M is due to get her most painful period ever on Christmas day.
M fell apart when she got the phone call. They told her to stay on the progesterone for a few days just in case, she told them to forget it. They said she had to come back on Wed for another blod test, and she told them to forget it. The nurse had to explain the risk of ectopic, and that she absolutely had to be monitored. M couldn't speak any more and told the nurse to call me instead.
My poor wife. She was so nervous signing in to the clinic this morning that she couldn't remember our home phone number or her cell number. Her hands were shaking so much that she couldn't write her name on the log. She's such a stress case. IVF plays directly to all of her weaknesses, and none of her strengths. It's not fair.
We had planned for every contingency. We knew, from past experience, that she should not be alone when she gets the news. And that we should never be at the mercy of one of these phone calls again. We would always control the information ourselves, and we'd always know BEFORE the call. And I would always be next to her.
Well, we were naive. We never considered this outcome. We took the pee test together, it was positive. She had the beta on a Saturday so that I would be with her the whole day. We did everything right. But the god damned HCG was too low, and it all came down to ANOTHER call, on a MONDAY, when I HAD to be at work. It was like our last BFN all over again. I had to rush home to peel my wife up off the ground.
And it's not like we can just sit at home wallowing in our misery or decide to get dressed up and go out for dinner or get drunk. We have the Buggins, who at 2 doesn't give a rats ass about IVF. She wants to play, and sing, and dance. There is no time to feel bad for ourselves, we have to put on a happy face. When I arrived home, all the Buggins wanted to do was play ring around the rosy, and M was in a ball on the couch. At times like this, having a child already can make it even harder. And yet, at the same time, so much easier.
We think we might be done. M has made about 50 proclamations today, in a futile effort to feel in control. We'll see how many of them stick. But as of right now, we might be deciding to be a one child family. Which we know, despite this terrible pain, makes us very lucky.
I'm sorry for making many of you sad with this news. I am thankful for your comments and messages of hope and understanding. We are not doing well today, by any stretch. But I think we'll be OK soon.