Well; if you’re an avid follower of the trials and tribulations of Mr and Mrs Emu (Mr Emu being the funnier of the two)... you’ll have noticed it’s been a bit quiet since Mr Emu’s experience in the sample room on Monday. We’re still in Cyprus! We’re still here. We had 6 eggs collected and 4 fertilised.
But I’d be a fraud to myself if I only ever shared the lighter part of the IVF journey. It’s important to me that I share it all. But I’ve struggled to even form the words to myself, let alone Mr Emu and definitely couldn’t have found the words to write. On Monday evening one lonely tear dropped down my face which started like a big old thunderstorm you know... when there’s one drop and then another... and soon you’re in a whole storm waiting for it to pass...
“I can’t go through with it” I muttered. “I don’t want the transfer”. For Mr Emu this was totally out of the blue. But it’s been coming for weeks. All those posh dinners, travels with work, late nights, early mornings, relaxing baths... they’ve all come with a distant stare and at some point me laying at night wondering what the hell I’m doing.
What if it works? What if I get a BFP? And then it goes wrong? We are unlikely to try again after this and I’ve not fully recognised what it’ll mean if it doesn’t work. I don’t want to go through the pain. I don’t want to go through it again without acknowledging how I’ll cope if it doesn’t work.
Now; I need to stop here and say... I appreciate that some of you may be reading this and thinking I’m selfish. Ungrateful. A drama queen. I’ve felt it myself over the last 48 hours. Especially as the news comes in and we know a decision about freezing or transferring will come. I know that some of you would never even imagine feeling this way; bloody hell... neither did I! I am the most calm and collected person I know! Or I was!
My co-ordinater team at the clinic have been amazing. They prescribed me a glass of wine last night. Which: I had. And Mr Emu and me researched our next holiday. With words of support that meant it didn’t matter if we went home and came back I was able to just relax by body and come to my own conclusion.
We’ll transfer two embryos tomorrow at 7.50am UK time.
I won’t lie; I’m nervous. Not because it might not work or the embryos might drop on the floor or I might cough them out... but because I might hurt. And I never ever want to feel that pain again.
And I want my life back. Hands up all those women who have said “yes! I love living in limbo!”
And I’m exhausted. And I’ve said it one hundred million times before - you women who do this more than once in a year are my heroes.
So tonight we’re going to hobble to the old town for dinner. Mr Emu will beg me not to cry because “it’s about £10 a tear with my MAC makeup” and tomorrow we’ll try again.
Who knows what will happen. But I know I have the support around me to cope. There are three lovely women on here who have checked in on me daily (more than daily!) regardless of their own situation. Without them I’d be lost. But already I know that below, in the comments, will flow so much support for me which without... I’d be lost. So thank you xx