Thoughtful Thursday: Hope

February 5, 2009

Thoughtful ThursdayWelcome to Thoughtful Thursday! Three orders of business today, each accompanied by song lyrics.

You don’t know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
–Coldplay, The Scientist

First, giving credit where credit is due. I would like to introduce a new element of Thoughtful Thursday, The Intelligentsia. People who have commented on every Thoughtful Thursday post for a given month will be added to the Intelligentsia roster and will receive some sidebar bling. For January, our esteemed members are Wiseguy from the outstanding blog Woman Anyone? and Cat B., who makes up for not having a blog by leaving lots of excellent comments on others’ blogs. I hope they will have plenty of intelligent company in the coming months — please join them, if not in The Intelligentsia then with occasional comments. (And, for those of you who are all-or-nothing types, don’t think you need to give up for the rest of the month if you miss a week — thoughtfulness is its own reward.) For the record, every Thoughtful Thursday comment is appreciated — I just wanted to give a little extra bonus for diligence.

Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start
–Coldplay, The Scientist

Second, an update on my bizarre infertility journey. I went to see Dr. Full Steam Ahead last week to establish a plan for IVF #3 — the one that I hope will be paid for by the Trick Up My Sleeve (still in the works, so no details yet). Dr. Full Steam Ahead, living up to his name, set forth an ambitious plan which involves giving me the Old Lady protocol. Even though I am “so young” (33, to be precise, and not getting any younger), I did not produce as many eggs as he would expect from the IVF #1 and #2 protocols, and even fewer “good” embryos. So he wants to try microdose Lupron plus as much FSH as the human body will tolerate to encourage my ovaries to give a burst of excellence. My husband is pretty horrified at the doses and number of daily injections, but as I always say, “in for a penny, in for a pound.” Actually I’ve never said that before in my life, but it applies here.

But, before the Trick Up My Sleeve can take effect, it is extremely likely that the new insurance company will require me to have failed 3 FSH+IUI cycles. I failed two during 2008, then stopped because Dr. Full Steam Ahead thought it was futile and I might as well move on to IVF and “save some money.” I had numerous Clomid+IUI cycles in 2003-2004, but those apparently don’t count. (FYI, all IUI cycles in 2003-2004 and 2008 were paid out of pocket. Boo.) So…

My current health insurance (the one that was my primary reason for running myself ragged by taking on New Job in addition to Old Job) pays for IUI but not IVF. Trick Up My Sleeve won’t kick in for a couple of months anyway. Therefore, I proposed that rather than waste time later, we get the FSH+IUI cycle out of the way now (since it’s paid for by New Job insurance anyway), and pave the way for Trick Up My Sleeve IVF. Dr. Full Steam Ahead agreed with my plan, so we’re all set to do FSH+IUI whenever my body decides that it’s ready. It will be injectible+IUI #3, or total IUI #7 — I think. Seriously, I can’t keep track anymore. Let’s go with #7, that sounds right.

Some people might feel guilty for “using” one insurance company to do a useless IUI merely to satisfy another insurance company’s IVF prerequisites, but I just can’t feel guilty. I wouldn’t have to play this game that if New Job’s insurance covered IVF. And plenty of people while covered by New Job-style insurance would have done a bunch of free IUI cycles instead of paying fourteen-fucking-thousand dollars out of pocket for IVF+ICSI. I’ve only cost that insurance company one hysteroscopy and one upcoming IUI (plus one flu shot) during the five months that I’ve been insured with them. If anyone is going to feel guilty here, perhaps it should be the doctor who cost me $40,000 last year (that’s my rough estimate… I haven’t had the courage to add it up yet), or the insurance company who, despite receiving over $500 per month in dues from me before I switched to New Job insurance, wouldn’t even pay for my beta when I was pregnant. Assholes.

Dr. Full Steam ahead joked, “Who knows? The IUI might actually get you pregnant! Stranger things have happened!” Ha ha, motherfucker. Just keep laughing all the way to the bank.

No, actually I’m only saying that for effect. I’m not actually bitter about the IUI, though I am bitter about plenty of other things, including the water-under-the-bridge money. I’m actually at a place of true acceptance with the IUI. First of all, this IUI was my idea. Second, I consider it simply a necessary step before the next real try, albeit a step dictated by the bureaucracy of the Bureaucracy Masters: insurance companies. I have zero expectation that the IUI will work. Honestly, it’s no different to me than any other procedure that is necessary before doing an IVF cycle, like an HSG or hysteroscopy. I believe that there’s as much chance of an IUI getting me pregnant as a hysteroscopy. Technically that’s not accurate, but I really don’t think it’s far off from the true odds.

Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
–Coldplay, The Scientist

This brings us to our third order of business, Thoughtful Thursday. This week’s theme: Hope.

Most of us have had cycles (treatment and do-it-yourself) where we were sure that it was “the one.” For me, the first cycle of doing something new has often been infused with extra hope. First year trying to conceive, first Clomid, first IUI, first FSH, first ICSI… Presumably somebody must get pregnant during a hope-filled cycle, but it’s never worked for me.

Many of us have also had cycles where were sure that it wouldn’t work. Maybe we forgot an injection or two, or we were horribly sick, or the timing of sex wasn’t optimal, or we’d just given up hoping. The upcoming IUI cycle fits into this category. Sometimes, thanks to the Murphy’s Law of Infertility, these are exactly the cycles that do work. Both of my BFPs (temporary though they were) have occurred during cycles where I had less hope than usual — miscarriage #1 was going to be the last Clomid+IUI cycle before we stopped trying for a while due to a depletion of energy and money, and miscarriage #2 occurred during IVF #1 when I should have had high hopes but just didn’t.

Unlike me, some people believe in the power of positive thinking. Some of those people even get pregnant by directing the positive energy with their thoughts (probably accompanied by sex or something… I don’t think thoughts are that powerful, at least in this universe… unless you’re one of those horrendous “I get pregnant every time my husband looks at me” fertiles). I have had many hope-filled cycles, especially early on, and it never did anything for me, but I suppose it must work for someone, right? How else would The Secret become a bestseller?

From a cosmic standpoint, I harbor a secret suspicion that positive intentions are good things. I like to imagine the soul of my baby being drawn to my irresistible good vibes, its microscopic body enveloped by my fabulous aura of love. I still think that The Secret is flim-flam, but the romantic part of me feels that hope is better for the universe than cynicism. At the same time, my soul seems to be losing the battle with reality. I have been let down so hard, so many times, that I may have used up all of my hope. Hope hasn’t gotten me anywhere so far, so now I’m substituting Guarded Almost-Optimism and Cautious Could-Be-But-Probably-Not-But-Maybe? in place of hope.

My question to you:
Do you believe that hope can actually impact your outcome? Specifically in terms of a cycle or a pregnancy, or in general if you prefer.

All of this assumes that one’s actions are the same with or without hope, and that attitude is the only variable. Obviously, if you lose hope and give up on treatments, that would likely have a different outcome than doing several more IVFs.

Oh, and after all of my talk about how I have given up on hope, you will laugh your ass off when I tell you where I’m going tomorrow. But that’s a post for another day.

30 Responses to “Thoughtful Thursday: Hope”

  1. WiseGuy Says:

    Do you believe that hope can actually impact your outcome?

    No! Yes!

    Let me recount the times that I was hopeful. The first month I went off BCPs, I was so stupidly sure that I would turn preggers. The first time I had the IUI, I was stupidly hopeful that it would work because now ‘we’ had everything pin-pointed. Then I started going downhill, and somewhere news about TB came into my medical history. I took a 6 month course of anti-TB. My fourth IUI happened after the course was over. I was hopeful again. It is obviously that all my hopes went pathetically, sobbingly, bangingly down the sanitary napkin lane. Then, came the IVF. Something entered me. I was too sure that it was going to work. Super sure, and till date, even with the lack of appropriate medical evidence (to stuff up my doc), I know that it worked.

    If all these cycles, my hope came out boppers. But I know this that I will never give up on hope or give in to my failures. So I cling to it, cycle after cycle, day after day and I hope that it lasts me enough to survive all this!

    Hoping cannot impact the outcome, but efforts and positive thinking can! Hoping is just the food of a hungry mind that seeks solace.

  2. WiseGuy Says:

    …and Thanks!

  3. I don’t think hope can affect the outcome but I believe hope or lack of can sure have a huge effect on your state of mind when you find out about the outcome, and how you deal with either the BFP or the BFN.

    I’m usually hopeless, in more ways than one (ha, ha). Its the best defence mechanism in the uter-verse. BUT… I do have cycles where I PRETEND to have no hope but secretly harbor this faint hope that my PRETENDING to have no hope will “trick” my embryos into sticking in and hanging on all the way home. I don’t usually admit this out loud for fear it will jinx something. Weird!

    I remember my second PGD cycle…I had absolutely no hope at all. After the PGD results phone call, I cried all the way to the clinic on the way to the embryo transfer (1 hour drive) and my ex-doctor looked at me and went “jesus christ, why do you look so miserable?” (motherfucker please. because I only had 2 embryos that were normal out of 8??? $%#@!) That was a lovely AND expected BFN… (thank you, red on toilet paper) and because I was expecting it, I dealt really well considering. Bounced back a couple of days later. All about the Next Cycle.

    However, my last cycle I had absolutely no hope whatsoever. I was dealing with this by thinking “I’m gonna have to start planning the next stim cycle”. Every remark from me about how I felt came with a disclaimer “its not gonna work anyway” and/or “thank fuck the next stim is covered by private health”. But we had a BFP, and a heartbeat. and miscarried rainbow baby #1. bad example I know, but its a BFP story either way. And how did I deal with the BFP? Like a lunatic, by POAS 1-2 times a day because of the sheer disbelief. And more disclaimers like “if we actually get to bring the baby HOME, and not in an urn…”

    and please!! why the heck not do an IUI? may as freaking well if its covered. “some” people may feel guilty. Not us desperate bitches! good on you! looking forward to reading about it!

  4. 'Murgdan' Says:

    Honestly. I don’t think hope has any bearing whatsoever. Just my opinion. I have hope and don’t have hope all at the same time…and in the end, whatever happens, reinforces our belief that our hope or lack thereof ‘made it happen’…or maybe this just reminds me of the old “stop trying so hard and it will happen” that I heard so much back in the ‘au natural’ days.

    Or maybe I’ve just had so many hopeless cycles that I don’t even remember anymore what that means….

  5. P.S. I have never read the Secret and never intend to. The horrid feedback from IVF-ers (the long term ones like moi and toi) was quite enough. So if I thought positive, my babies wouldn’t have died? Motherfucker please.

    (thats my phrase for tonight).


  6. Shelli Says:

    Hope has been a recurring topic in the front of my mind for years (I’ve had many, many losses in pursuit of my second child… working on a DE cycle now).

    For me, Hope has gotten me back on track after every loss. It’s a motivator, but I also understand that Hope won’t deliver me a live baby. Being hopefully doesn’t change anything for sure… it just gets me by between disappointment.

    Love your blog, btw. Lurker here, but intend to comment more. 🙂

  7. Irishlass Says:

    Do you believe that hope can actually impact your outcome? Specifically in terms of a cycle or a pregnancy, or in general if you prefer.

    I just had my first IVF cycle which ended in a BFN last week. I tried to have hope, as bad as it sounds, but I was also scared – mostly that it wasn’t going to work. My husband was the one who had more hope than I did.

    My family and friends who knew what we were going through seemed to have more hope than I did (really, to the point of where I wanted to smack them for telling me to have more hope – after all, they weren’t the ones trying to relax for 3 days after the transfer and had to stick so many needles). Do I think I had a BFN because I didn’t have enough hope? Not really. I think, as bad as this sounds, its just meant to happen when it happens. There are some things that are just not in our control whether or not we want them to be.

    Funny thing though, a few days after getting the BFN, I started to think (and build hope) in preparing and starting the next cycle. I haven’t had a chance to meet with my RE yet, but yesterday I called the nurse. She said that my RE wants me to take a break before starting IVF #2 but she wouldn’t elaborate on why until our appointment. So I felt that tiny bud of hope just wither. I guess hope isn’t what I need now, its just mostly strength and patience to get through.

    I have to add, I love reading your blog – I’ve lurked for a long time and this is the first time I’ve commented. I look forward to reading more.

  8. Danielle Says:

    Hope has never changed an outcome for me. Pregnancy or otherwise. However nice it is to hope, it has never been the Magic to produce something wonderful.

  9. Lea Says:

    I’m not sure hope does anything, but maybe the power of positive thinking does? If you are more positive (or I guess you could say hopeful) you would have less stress hormones swirling around in your body. My last acupuncturist believed in the power of positive thinking and tried to get me to love my ovaries. She said ” Think about them doing what they are intended to do. Don’t say to them ‘You’re useless and I’m going to replace you with a pair of chihuahua puppies’. Send them positive reinforcement.” This is a direct quote–she was a hoot. At any rate, my final IVF cycle failed miserably and was canceled before retrieval. Now I can tell my ovaries how I really feel because we’re not going to use them anymore! We’re moving on to donor eggs at the ripe old age of 34.

  10. Brenna Says:

    Like WiseGuy and Shalini and Murgdan have said, I don’t think hope has any effect on the outcome of a cycle. I’m pretty much all about the science, and when it’s working for us, our cycle has worked. (Says the woman with one successful IVF/ICSI under her belt, but no babies in her home.) I was hopeful as all get-out for a number of our IUI cycles. Like you said, I think introducing a new protocol always brings that glimmer of possibility: maybe Clomid is what I need! Maybe Follistim is what I need! Maybe two IUIs rather than one is what I need! Nope, turns out ICSI is what we need. So all of that hope was lost when the science wasn’t with us.

    That said, I totally agree that we can (and maybe should?) chose hope over lack of hope. Whether or not it makes any difference in the outcome of our cycles, it can certainly make a difference in our psyches! It’s kind of like choosing to have faith in the absence of definitive proof.

  11. Victoria Says:

    I try *not* to hope every cycle as it hurts so much when it doesn’t work out. Just like you, the first time I’ve tried something new I was convinced that it would work, this would be the thing. Cycles where I felt like it was just a formality and didn’t have hope didn’t work either. (And then I would think, well, maybe it will work just to show me the universe works in strange ways.) Constant disappointment. So to better manage my emotions I try to not hope, to not think about it, to see what happens. We’re on the BCP phase of IVF with ICSI and the only thing I am hoping for is that I have more than one follicle. Sad, isn’t it?

  12. Several points to address:

    1) I hate the frickin’ Secret and judge people who quote it to me or have it displayed in their homes.

    2) I technically believe that hope has no bearing on the outcome of these things. In fact, after the first year of trying was achieved, I decided that hoping for the best every time and then going through 2-3 days of depression every time my period came was getting me in serious emotional trouble. Which is why I got a referral to a fertility specialist as soon as my year was up. I didn’t have room for hope, and I needed to find out if something was wrong. I’ve known couples that have gone through 2 or 3 years of trying up and downs before visiting a specialist, and in these cases I think positive thinking is actually a waste of time.

    3) Unfortunately, we weren’t good candidates for IUI and my doctor told us after our first Clomid + IUI cycle that the chances of it working in our case were extremely low and that we should consider taking on the expense of IVF. She did one more cycle for us, but she made it clear that she wouldn’t do a third. Our doctor was very aggressive and I really appreciate that. Now.

    4) Of course the second cycle didn’t work. We talked about it beforehand and decided to go with two cycles of IVF, since neither of our insurance companies cover it. If neither cycle worked, then we decided that we would look into adoption. We’re both artists, so switching jobs for certain insurance benefits wasn’t an option.

    5) That all said, I really, really, really hoped IVF would work. I was very upfront about our situation with friends and strangers alike, and I rather romantically like to think that their “good vibes” are part of what made the first IVF cycle successful.

    6) However, what I had to work hardest at during the entire process was acceptance. I’ve talked before about how lucky I feel for my occasional bouts of depression — you know not positive thinking — and because I had to brace myself against get really, really bad when cycles didn’t work out, I inadvertently learned acceptance along the way — which I’m much more grateful for than hope.

    7) At the end of the day, there’s nothing you can do but move forward or stay where you are. I happen to be a grim trudger. I always move forward no matter what. But I don’t begrudge anyone their methods for moving forward. I hope or religion or [put whatever motivates you here] does it for you, then go with that, I think. Just do the work and keep moving forward.

  13. 8) And I forgot to say that you shouldn’t feel bad about working the insurance companies’ systems. If you need IVF for medical reasons, which most of us non-celebrities do, it should be covered by insurance. I’m taking time off to be a part-time work at home mother for the next 6-7 years, but after that I’m seriously considering transitioning into a career that would allow me to work on this issue as it has become one that is very close to my heart.

  14. Cara Says:

    A cosmic answer, not related to fertility?

    Yes – I think hope and positive thinking can only boost my chances of the “thing I want most” happening. Accompained by a lot of affirmative action of course. That said, I can think of many times in my life that Garth Brook’s lyrics in “unanswered prayers” applied too, I mean – if I had actually been able to stay in Wales and marry that sweet boy who bought me a beer while I was abroad singing with my college choir…then …well – who knows where my life would have taken me.

  15. fattykins Says:

    First, I wouldn’t feel guilty about the insurance thing…

    As for your question…I don’t think so. Particularly with my second pregnancy, I went through the whole tww alternately thinking I was/was not pg. Mostly I thought I could for sure not be for reasons you mentioned, mostly that the timing was not optimal. I was SURE I was not pg. And I was.

    Some cycles I was SURE I would ovulate. And I didn’t.

    So…just from my own experience I don’t really believe it, but it does feel better to be hopeful instead of all glum while in the tww, so I guess in that way it helps, but it doesn’t affect the outcome.

  16. shinejil Says:

    Ah, screw hope.

    The one time I was pregnant, I was absolutely devoid of hope, as I had a terrible beta and what was basically a period.

    Positive thinking is comforting in the moment, but does not a pregnancy make.

  17. Leslie Laine Says:

    At this point, I believe that the glass is half full mentality is a crock of shit. Hope feels good, it’s something to hold onto if you have it, but for me and my IF experience, we choose a harsh dose of reality.

    Your post is interesting and thought provoking as always – I’m getting ready to recount my experience at the IF shrink today. Our session was centered around this very thing.

    Also, I love the Coldplay lyrics – we saw them in Washington D.C. this summer and they surprised everyone by showing up in the crowd, singing this song.

    They were playing on our side of the stadium, just below us.

    I was (and still am) convinced it was meant just for us.

    That’s about as hopeful as I get.

  18. Megan Says:

    Too bad you can’t just hand over the money, have the doctor *say* you did the IUI and call it a day…

  19. Ana Says:

    I’ve been reading your blog for a while…i love it and think you are very insightful. I have never commented before, but this question really got me thinking, especially since I am currently in the 2ww, alternating between hopelessness and catching myself planning out when I would be on maternity leave. Sigh. I have always had a crazy deeply held paranoid belief that if I do not think about & worry about any bad outcome, it will happen. So, like Shalini said, I TRY to not have hope. I almost convince myself that I don’t have hope. Yet every month it still hits me with a shock. Do I think hope influences the outcome…logically, not at all. Its science. Its probability. Its as tied to hope as is getting a lucky hand at poker or rolling two sixes. I do believe that positive thinking is healthier for your emotional and physical well-being. I do not believe that well-being will cause you to get pregnant, however. I don’t even WANT to know what “the secret” is all about. I’m sure it would piss me off.

  20. I love your writing style…

    As for the question, I was just writing about this in the comments section of someone else’s blog. I don’t believe that hope can impact the result of a cycle. But for me, personally, I have to have it to be able to hack the injections, procedures, exams and generally feeling shitty all the time to go through it. My fresh IVF cycle ended with an ectopic rupture. When I did my FET I had to believe it was going to work, otherwise I just couldn’t put myself through it all.

    I like Megan’s idea to fake it, by the way.

    Good luck to you!

  21. No to hope.

    Yes to openness.

    I hated Hope during IF. She ripped me a new one every chance she got.

  22. Heather Says:

    I’ve been hopeful so many times that haven’t worked out, so no, I don’t think hope helps me. I do think imagery helps me though, especially from the relaxation standpoint, which helps my results during an IVF cycle.

    I also have a superstition not to test. Over this year, whenever I test at home before I get the results from the doctor, it either didn’t work or we didn’t see a proper pregnancy develop. I didn’t test at home with this last round of IVF and we’re expecting twins.

  23. Cat Says:

    Aww, thanks man. Now I wish I had a sidebar for that bling.

    As for the hope thing, I used to have it every once in a while. Usually when my cycles were on the long end of my normal range of anywhere from 26-35 days long. Then I’d POAS and it was like a siren call for my period to start within a day. These days I just try not to be completely pessimistic and cynical in case I jinx anything.

    During my last cycle I started knitting a baby blanket as a tangible expression of hope. So far so good, but I can’t honestly say the blanket had anything more to do with it than being a calming influence on me by it’s repetitiveness and sense of accomplishment as I watched it get longer and longer.

    For what it’s worth, I don’t think you should feel guilty about doing another IUI just because the insurance company is telling you to. There’s so much IF stuff that they refuse to cover, I almost think they’ve got this coming to them just to make them pay for *something*.

  24. Haley Says:

    Do I believe hope can affect the outcome?

    Yes and No. For our first IUI I was extremely hopeful and had my hope shattered. For IUI Number 2 the doctors told me that it wasn’t going to work because my progesterone was so low. The third IUI I gained back some of my hope because it felt like that one might actually work, but again had my hopes dashed. So that is where my yes and no comes from. I have been told by several people that I need to “think positive”, and so far, that hasn’t helped me too much.

    Give the IUI a shot. It couldn’t hurt right? Don’t feel guilty about the insurance company either. As much as you have paid out of pocket, they can at least pay for something, right? 🙂

    Good luck and I will be thinking about you and your husband.

  25. Can hope effect my outcome? Perhaps not, but then again maybe yes! I have fibromyalgia and if there’s one thing I learned throughout my diagnosis and recovery was just how strong the mind-body connection is.

    Don’t worry, I won’t ever say to anyone to “relax”, it just isn’t that simple. But hope is a powerful thing. It has a way of helping us tackle the most difficult of situations.

    I NEED to hope right now. I have to dig down deep in the very depths of myself and BELIEVE that in another 36 weeks I will have a baby. To think otherwise can only make everything more difficult for me. I would rather convince myself I’m still pregnant rather that search for reasons it may suddenly change.

    So while I can’t tell you if Hope will affect my outcome just yet, I will tell you that Hope carries me each day right now. Sometimes, it feels like all I have…

  26. Star Says:

    It’s tempting to believe that hope can change an outcome, and this is merely anecdotal, but my pregnancies (incl. a miscarriage) have happened during times when I was not expecting a positive outcome. In that way, they’ve all been surprises. So I guess I have the opposite belief (which is just as inaccurate, but fits my experience) that if I’m pessimistic, I’m actually more likely to have success. And honestly, that goes for most things in life, not just reproductive. But I was a born pessimist, so what can you expect. Bottom line is, pessimists can be successful, so if that’s where you’re comfortable, no reason to worry that it will inhibit your chances. Honestly, I think it’s all dumb luck.

  27. Sarah Says:

    nothing short of biology has ever gotten me pregnant. I’ve been hopeful, and hopeless–it was all mind tricks that co-incied with other events. I wish my state of mind had ever produced anything other than…a state of mind. But I do believe in being hopeful enough to carry on and take good care of myself.

  28. onepinkline Says:

    I think hope is a cruel bitch. You sort of feel damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Having never had a BFP I can’t say hope or no hope made a difference to the outcome. But the months I have had hope the BFN was harder to take. And the months I didn’t I was overcome by the feeling if only I’d had a more positive outlook/hope blah blah blah. I am alternating between hope and no hope this cycle. We’ll see what that does to the universe.

  29. Mijke Says:

    I don’t really believe that hope will have any impact on the outcome of a cycle (after all, if that were the case all of us would’ve been running after a bunch of children already). The cycles where I was really hopeful have crashed just as often as the ones where I had no hope at all. And crashing hurts a lot more if hope had lifted me up before the fall…

    However, it is almost impossible to go through IF and especially through an IVF-cycle with no hope at all. If it wasn’t for hope, I would not have been able to stick those needles in my belly, thigh or butt. I would not have willingly laid myself down on a table knowing they were going to put a giant needle inside me to suck out all my eggs (and they are not as nice in the Netherlands as they were in the USA: nothing was given beforehand to dull the pain).

    My second and last IVF had so many things working against us that my hope was faltering before we even started stims. It became harder and harder to keep going with the injections and hospital visits. I was already thinking about the next cycle, and how I might not want to do another IVF ever again. Or at least not within the next year. How the next IVF would be our last shot, our last hope, and what it would mean if that one wouldn’t work either. That I was too scared to start IVF #3 because if it failed there would be no more hope left.

    I was so convinced IVF #2 was a fluke and would not work, that when I had to go into hospital for an ultrasound 8 days after transfer because of possible hyperstimulation and did a HPT before I left (so if they would do any bloodwork and they would call me afterwards to let me know that, sorry, no pregnancy, the crash would hurt less because I’d already seen my BFN on a stick) I had almost thrown the thing into the bin without looking at it. And what do you know, my FIRST EVER BFP!!! I was so shocked I started crying and crying and crying and just couldn’t stop. I still had tears in my eyes 2 hours later when I walked into the us-room…

    So the only cycle in which I had no hope at all, I ended up pregnant with twins. And got to take them both home healthy and all, although still a little tiny after 32 weeks gestation and a 5 week NICU stay.

    Funny, because after that horrible IVF-cycle with no hope whatsoever I suddenly had all the hope in the world that I would carry them to term. Up until labour started the pregnancy was so wonderfully uneventful that I was convinced they would just stay there until someone would physicly pull them out. And there they suddenly were, 32 weeks old, tiny and helpless and living in a glass box. How’s that for hope…?

    Hope is a funny thing. It most definately won’t move mountains, but it might just help you climb them!

    ps: Don’t click on my name if you’ve just had a failed cycle or if you think you will break down crying upon seeing yet another baby that’s not your own (been there, done that), because I just posted some pictures of the kids.

  30. Mel Says:

    I just realized my old comment didn’t upload and since I am trying to become one of the Intelligentsias, let me see if I can construct it.

    The cycle that finally took was the one were all went wrong and I had the worst attitude/stress so I’m all for the opposite game.

    That said, I am such a slave to the what if, that I remain hopeful while simultaneously believing it has no effect. Because what if I found out it did?

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