Scrambled Eggs Seasoned With Holy Water

by
5
Apr

It’s hard to be a competitive person, and be subpar egg creator.  But that’s what I am.  I am basically a dilapidated hen.  You can give me all the stim drugs and I will make follicles like nobody’s business, but I won’t make enough eggs for even a small omelet.  I usually make 1 extra egg to make egg plural.   I felt like I was getting a participants’ ribbon in the game of life.  No trophy, no medal, no baby, just bruises and laundry detergent bottles filled with old needles.  

I never thought that was going to happen.  My levels weren’t complete garbage, I started doing paleo months earlier and had dropped 30 plus pounds, I was taking high doses of stim drugs, I did weekly acupuncture, I went on leisurely walks, listened to fertility meditations on Spotify, all I needed was this little push and all this work, effort, time, tears, and money would pay off.  

It didn’t.  

I was 2 IVF cycles in, resulting in a combined total of 4 mature eggs.  All my eggs were meh quality.  You wouldn’t send them back to the kitchen, but you know you have had better.  None of my embryos were sticking.  All of my hopes were as meh as my eggs.

The money I had scrounged up from driving for Uber and schlepping the occasional pantsless man around Indianapolis plus the cash I had acquired from refinancing my house was running out.  It was a dark time with a very small night light at the end of the tunnel.  

After my 2nd failed cycle I had my WTF call with Dr. Kiltz.  We had a quick, compassionate, straight shooter talk about the state of the union.  We decided to take a less is more approach and give my eggs one last try.  Fewer meds, hopefully, better quality.  I also decided to throw myself all in on his Keto plan.  One meal a day at dinner.  Beef, butter, bacon, and eggs.  I figured I can’t completely control the meh-ness of my old eggs, but I can control my feeding regimen.  It’s amazing how much time you free up when you are only eating once a day.  I all but Marie Kondoed everything in my world.  I also decided to add c0-q10 into the mix.  

In a moment of realism with myself and my bank account, this was probably fiscally and emotionally the last cycle I had in me for now and possibly forever.  

With that in mind, I received an amazing gift from a dear friend.  My good friend since high school had embryos on ice.  The Cadillac of embryos is what I called them.  All high quality, and ready to drive off the lot into my empty womb.  She offered these supped up Caddies to me.  She not only offered them, but she and her husband also jumped through all the hoops and paperwork needed to make them available to transfer from Florida to NY.  Accepting this offer wasn’t necessarily a no-brainer.  I was worried about my friends, their kids, me, and the baby I might have with their embryos.  Is this a gift they can truly give and one I can fully accept?  After lots of talks and visiting a therapist the answer for us was yes.  It was both stressful and comforting to know that I had this state-of-the-art high-quality safety net waiting in the wings.  

I began cycle 3 in a headspace of optimism splashed with mindfully low expectations.  I knew to go in we were expecting fewer follicles and fewer eggs.  Knowing this helped me.  I continued my usual prep of acupuncture and walks with the added features of carnivore Keto.  It was a pretty similar scenario as my 2 prior attempts, but something was…different.

I was thinking of those differences one night as I was taking my evening walk and a bird went on my head.  Someone told me this is a sign of good luck.  It felt more like bird shit in my hair.

I was thinking of those differences again when I went in for my follicle monitoring ultrasound, and it looked as if my uterus was smiling at me.  Almost like it knew something I didn’t.  A friend told me my ultrasound looked like a mere cat.  In a side by side comparison, it did indeed look like a mere cat.

If this wasn’t going to be my best cycle it was going to be my funniest.  

Following the mere cat ultrasound, I was told it was time to head to Syracuse.  Armed with my best friend from 1st grade and a bottle of holy water her mom gave her for long car trips, we set off from Indy.  

Our visit to CNY went smoothly.  We sat in the waiting room splashing holy water like I was about to have an exorcism priority retrieval.  When I woke up, I was told they retrieved 2 eggs.  One egg enough to make it plural.  I ate a ginormous Burger King cheeseburger and milkshake and slept and waited.  

The CNY report call came the next morning while I was in the shower attempting to smuggle high-value Marriott shampoo into empty water bottles.  

Both eggs mature, both fertilized.  It was awesome news, but the news I had heard before.

I returned home with my moderate optimism, my carefully kept expectations, a ½ used Dasani bottle of holy water, and 6 ounces of stolen hotel shampoo and conditioner.  

I returned home to wait for my period, to wait for my 40th birthday, and to wait for my final transfer.

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