embryo transfer day. magician sits us down to deliver the bad news. we lost another one. the 4-cell hadn’t grown in 24 hours. and the 2-cell had grown to 6-cell. still a grade 3. he offered to NOT transfer it if we so wished, the pros of that being they could observe it in the lab and if it arrested (stopped growing) before day 5 we wouldn’t have to go through 2 weeks of progesterone ass shots and emotional upheaval (read: con). and then in the same breath he said it’s worth a shot to put it back in the uterus, as the uterus often is more hospitable than a lab. he freely admitted the he has seen “ugly” embryos (aka MINE) turn out to be beautiful babies. but those cases are few and far between.
we decided to go through with the transfer. after everything we’d been through, we just couldn’t quit now. we’d given everything we could give to this cycle, so stopping now just didn’t feel right. the transfer went well, no issues. and i sat there for 10 minutes afterwards, a torrential downpour of tears from my eyes. my heart has already quit. self-protection. my head knows logically this isn’t going to work. i want to jump off a pier and be swallowed up in cool water… my body weightless, floating aimlessly away from this nightmare. this can’t be happening. this is not real.
i know there is always a chance. but it is hard to remember why you started in the first place when you already feel like you’ve already lost.