Tomorrow we’ll start our third round of IVF.
The drugs are ready. The injecting tutorial is being rewatched. My nerves aren’t here. My positive outlook is making appearances when it can. I’ve got used feelings of being relaxed and defeated at the same time. Is that possible?
I know for some women here that might read as selfish or like I shouldn’t be doing it if I’m not 100% in to it; but I’m convinced this is the way my body protects itself from it all going wrong again.
It’ll be exactly one year to the day we start again. We could pass through the one year anniversary of the devastating Manchester terrorist attacks on the one year anniversary of our BFP.
Mr Emu is the strongest I know. We’ll have our transfer about 4 weeks into his mums chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. I’m not sure this is the best timed cycle. But when is? Another month later? And at risk of Mr Emu being made redundant, it feels like no time is ever a good time.
I desperate for this to work. But, I’m desperate to have my life back. Our life back. That’s all we want really...a life we crave or a life we know.
Big hugs to you all. Especially our warrior donor. She rocks. I’ll apologise now for the crazy posts over the next 6 weeks! x