Monday, December 8, 2008

Oh, the conversations we weave

When first we think we might conceive.

Early days
DH: Should we take a break until after the holidays?
Me: Why?
DH: Seems like we have a lot going on right now.
Me: I don't think we can bank on something happening right away. There will always be something going on. And at 38, I am not getting any younger.
DH: Right. No break, then.
Me: Right.

Six months in
Me: Great news! The OB says our chemical pregnancy confirms that everything's working properly. Said it was probably just some fluke-y "bad sperm" or something. Ha! She says to use a fertility monitor and call her with a positive HPT in the next couple of months.
DH: How much does the fertility monitor cost?
Me: It's kind of expensive, but I think it's worth it.

One year in
Me: I'll be traveling during my fertile window this cycle.
DH: We can try before you leave town.
Me: Might as well. Sperm can potentially live up to 5 days.

Two years in
Me: The RE said your sperm is 100% misshapen and most of it dies overnight. He recommends more tests for both of us.
DH: More tests . . . expensive?
Me: Expensive.

Two and a half years in
DH: I need to be gone for 3 weeks next month. When are you ovulating?
Me: You know I can't predict that now.
DH: Could you make up a calendar that outlines the likeliest 2 or 3 scenarios? I can pick travel dates accordingly.
Me: Hokay. Worth a shot.

Two years and seven months in
Me: Whew, we got you home in time. Lucky those long trips don't pop up very often.
DH: Actually, I'm going to be traveling like this for the foreseeable future. That calendar you made . . . can you do one that covers the rest of the year?
Me: Are you serious?
DH: Yes.

Three and a half years in
RE: My partners won't agree to us cycling you with your eggs unless you're prepared to start in 3 days. You're too old, literally, starting later this month.
DH: You have age criteria . . . explain to me why we've spent thousands of dollars this past year only to be hearing this news TODAY.
RE: I'm sorry. I can have my donor egg coordinator call you Monday. And there are several good adoption agencies in town.
DH: So another $350 for your thoughts, right? We'll leave a check on the way out.

Me (in the car): It's over.
DH: We'll get a second opinion.
Me: It's too late. We wasted too much time with that RE.
DH: We'll keep trying.

Me (later that night): Remember that home-insemination product I told you about? I'm too old for the clinical trial they're doing, but they still need people to give feedback on the instructions.
DH: We can do whatever you want.
Me: You'd get to wear a condom.
DH: Sounds smart. Maybe they're onto something.
Me: It's for collection purposes only.
DH: "Collection purposes." Great.

Four years in
Me: The new RE thinks we have a chance with IVF. Not a great one, but not NO chance.
DH: How much is IVF going to cost at her clinic?
Me: A lot.
DH: We'll do it once. For closure.
Me: Agreed. I'm going to need surgery first.
DH: Let's get moving.

Four and a half years in

Me: That IVF didn't really count.
DH: Why not? It failed. Now we know.
Me: But we didn't retrieve anything and so didn't find out if your sperm and my eggs can make nice. That was the "closure" we were looking for. I think.
DH: What's our savings look like these days?
Me: Smaller than before. But we're okay.
DH: Let me know when I need to be in town.

Four years and seven months in
Me: I got a positive test.
DH: (Silence)
Me: Are you there?
DH: This is good. (More silence)
Me: Hello???
DH: I'm in the car with some clients. We're heading out to dinner.
Me: Call me later?
DH: Love you.

Four years and ten months in
DH: Well, IVF worked last time, to a degree. Should we try again?
Me: You're asking ME?

Five years and one month in
Me: I just took a test: 2 lines.
DH (barely looking up from organizing his underwear drawer): Okay.
Me (after a 10-second delay): Wow. "Okay"? That's all you've got? Way to feign excitement, sweetie.
DH (trapping me into a hug): Look, I thought we already thought you were pregnant. And it's not like we know how things will go yet.
Me: You're right, it's not like that.

Last week
Me (walking to the car after the first ultrasound): If something bad is going to happen, I hope it happens soon.
DH: Sooner is better.
Me: Aren't we the happy parents-to-be.

DH (calling from the road): Still pregnant?
Me: So far. The spotting started up again late today.
DH: Oh no.
Me: It's just brown, but I still hate it.
DH: Can you just lay low tonight?
Me: In a little bit. I'm trying to finish some work first.
DH: I thought you had till the end of the week for that.
Me: I do. I just want to stay ahead of things in case . . .
DH: In case?
Me: In case. I'm working with the same clients as when we miscarried in June, and I'd prefer to not have to share any bad news this time. Last thing I need is a rep as the girl who cries miscarriage every time there's an important deadline.
DH: This has always been an uphill battle. But it ain't over.
Me: I haven't given up. It's hard to visualize success — but I still have hope.
DH: Me too.
Me: Where do you think we get it?
DH: The "stupid" genes I like to think we'll pass on.
Me: Ah, the "stupid" genes. Those are the sweet ones, aren't they? "Hope you got 'em, little baby."


The preceding text constitutes an interpretive paraphrasing of several select real-life conversations DH and I have had since late 2003. Any resemblance to random conversations starring other infertile couples is purely probable.


Beautiful Mess said...

It has been an uphill road for you 2, but you're there for each other and that's whats important!
I'm thinking about you and sending you lots of good JUJU!!!!

2roads said...

Still hanging on!! What a wild ride. I'm still hoping for the dream come true ending you two.

Opus #6 said...

I love those stupid genes. They give hope to the hopeless. They give calm during the storm. They give peace in a troubled world.

Tara said...

I am still pulling for you. What an heartbreaking battle. I am so glad that yall have let you make this stronger as a couple.

Hang in there butter bean - we need you to stick for about 7 more months!!!

Evil Stepmonster said...

Hahaha that's funny. Its tragic how cynical we become, but great that we (well most of us) can still see the funny side. I truly hope the stupid genes are strong in this one, and it keeps hanging on.

Joonie said...

Hang in there sweetie! Hope is all we have and in its own way it's a wonderful thing!

Lisa said...

Hm. Is stupidity what leads us to keep hoping? If so, count me in the stupid club. I'm hoping for a lot of things, one of which is for you and your little one. You're in my thoughts tomorrow.

Ms Heathen said...

These fragments of conversation give only the smallest hint of all that you've been through over the past few years, Lisa.

I'm glad that you and your husband are still there for each other, and am holding out every hope that you are able to pass on your 'stupid' gene to this little one.