Yesterday (Friday) was our visit to the clinic. The misses had to have a small op to assist in the IVF/ICSI process and to pick up her daily injections which started yesterday.
Whilst we were waiting to go into the pre op area in the main reception a young girl was crawling around. I was not in the feckin mood to talk to anyone least of all a baby. The child (inevitably) crawled up to me smiled and tried to climb my leg. Despite my snarl and general non interest body language, the child (we later established her name was Mary) really wanted to get on my lap.
Not that it mattered but the child had downs syndrome and her smile was warm enough to make my day. I picked her up and she sat quite contently then played the get down get back up game until we were called into the pre op area.
The Misses was questioned by the anaesthetist checking to ensure that there would be no sign that her teeth would fall out or uncontrollable vomiting if he got the dose wrong. Thankfully the routine op (chargeable of course) went without a hitch and 30 minutes later she was in the recovery area checking the heart rate monitor attached to her finger every 2 minutes. It kept me amused for awhile at least this time after being knocked out and doped up she refrained from attempting to repeatedly hug the nurse.
Whilst she was in the recovery room I was summoned for my SA. The humiliation room was restocked with different reading material than before. Dignity stripped I want back and sat with the misses until she was felling a bit more normal.
Before we left to go home the doc wanted to have a ‘chat’ with us.
The SA showed a massive improvement on the count 14 million up from 3 million in August when we tried for the first time.
Brilliant, the non drinking, healthy eating, vitamin popping, exercise taking lifestyle had paid off. Had it bollocks.
Turns out the mortality rate and abnormality rates were worse. In fact the doc said there was nothing alive. Cue mental and emotional breakdown along with the collapse of remaining self belief and ability to think straight.
Get me the fcuk out of here. “there is no feckin point taking the injections” was all it could mumble before shaking the docs and rejecting any attempt of anyone trying to comfort me.
On the journey home the silence was only broken by a call from the doc saying he had spoken with the embryologist and they thought we should proceed with the treatment,
Cheeky bastards want the money and don’t give a shit about giving us false hope – was all I could think.
I had just been beaten up emotionally again and I just wanted to put the car in the river.
Given a bit of time and a subsequent conversation with the doc once I got home, I realised that they were professionals and if there was no chance of it happening then they would not let us continue.
We still have a small chance but I am still in no mood to think that even a flicker of hope is enough for it to work.
Bollocks to it. Lets go through the motions and see what happens. Can’t possibly feel any worse than it does now can it?
"When you say it's gonna happen "now"
Well, when exactly do you mean ?
See, i've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone"
– The Smiths, How soon is now?