How hard can it really be?

So I got mail today.

An invoice.  From the clinic.  Telling me that the payment for annual embryo storage is "DUE NOW" (yes, in block caps.  Bold, too).

To Recap:  In October last year we did a fresh cycle.  We ended up with 4 embryos.  We transferred 2 and froze 2 (had I known then what I discovered at transfer of those 2, we would have asked for them to go to blast before freezing and probably wouldn't have ended up freezing any, but that's beside the point).  We paid $800 for freezing and 1 year of storage.

2 months later, in December, following the first miscarriage, we transferred the 2 remaining kidsicles.  No more frozen.

In March, we did another fresh cycle.  Ended up with 9.  We transferred 2, froze 6, and waited for the 9th to hit blast, which it didn't.  Again, we paid $800 for freezing an 1 year of storage.

So, we currently have 6 kidsicles 'on ice', but only since March.

And now, 7 months later, and approaching the anniversary of our first loss, we're being told that if we don't pay $275 immediately we need to tell them how to dispose of them??  WTF?!

How hard is it, really, to get the fucking paperwork right?

**update**
Just got off the phone with the accounts folks at the clinic (for whom I had left a rather upset voicemail).  They will follow up with the lab, but verified with my file that we DID pay in March and that we DID NOT have any frozen left from last October.

But the question remains... the lab would have known when they thawed the 2 in December that there were none left in that 'jar', so why did they leave the account open??  This shouldn't be allowed to happen.  I didn't need a reminder right now of the loss we suffered a year ago.  I didn't need a demand for money we don't have.

Happy October?

Yeah... it's a question.  This month has 2 sad milestones... our first transfer... and the loss of those embies.  Add to that poor D's day at work yesterday.  Ok, technically September, but it's something that's going to drag on for the next 2 weeks.

D sent me a text yesterday (as he often does when he's late leaving work)... and specifically asked for a hug.  Bad sign.  I met him at the door when he got home, and he just burst into tears.  Now, you have to understand, my boy doesn't cry.  He bottles.  But yesterday was an exceptionally bad day for him.  I'm not sure of the details (because he also doesn't talk), but what I did gather was this... yesterday he had to deal with a family who were angry because items had been removed (by cemetary staff) from the crypt of their 3-year-old child.  I'm sure you can imagine the emotion involved for the family.  Bad situation in the first place... worse situation when you throw in the emotionally charged atmosphere... and worse still when you factor in that 1 year ago we were doing our first fresh IVF cycle and were full of hope that would be trampled on a short time later.  D tries to hold it together for me, but I know he's had a rough year of it, too.  Not only with all of what we've been through, but in trying to be strong for me, and seeing me fall apart over and over again.

So, I'm going to try to make myself a promise.  I'm going to let myself be as miserable as I feel the need to be this month, but October 31st is New Year's Eve, in true Celtic fashion. But... I'm also not going to beat myself to a pulp if I slip... if I have a bad day... if I break down.

I have no doubt it's going to be difficult.  There are several friends who are due in the next few months.  Our own second due date looms on the horizon.  There will doubtless be more announcements. I still don't have a job.  We are facing the very real possibility of losing our home if I don't have one by the end of January.  But I'm going to try.  I've wallowed for a year.  I don't want to be the bitter infertile any more.

Wish me luck!

3 years

Happy Anniversary!

Oh wait... perhaps not so happy. As of today, we've been 3 years hoping and praying for a child to love. Yay us. And what's this I see on the horizon? AF... yep, Mother Nature, the bane of my existence seems to have decided to add insult to injury and show up today as an anniversary present. Wench.

Birthday Girl

Here we are. Another year older. Another year childless. A few more emotional scars. A lot more experiences that give me grounds to relate to even more people.

Here's hoping the next 12 months bring something wonderful into our lives.

I don't think I like me any more

I used to be pretty happy with the person I was. I used to think I was pretty well adjusted and able to cope with most things that life threw at me.

I don't think that any more. And I don't think I like me.

Why?

Over the weekend we visited my in-laws. Now, I love most of my in-laws. I think they're awesome. I'm especially fond of DH's aunt & uncle who are his godparents and their kids. We don't get to see them too often, but were lucky enough to see them this weekend. Their oldest daughter moved up North a couple of years ago and it was really hard on her mom... they were always close... and she married the boy next door (literally... her mom was looking forward to her still being right next door). Anyway, MIL told us a few weeks back that this daughter was pregnant. First kick. Her mother, understandably, is excited that her little girl is going to have a baby... but unfortunately that meant a lot of talk about it when we saw them. Second kick. They don't know we're having problems... I can't hold it against them. Then they launched into a story about their daughter's friend who lives in the same town up North... and is pregnant with #7. Yes, that's right. #7. She's my age. 7 kids. And we can't seem to have one.

Later that same evening the topic of another of DH's cousins came up. She's pregnant with #3. The two she has are hellions. She "nearly died" with #2 (MIL's words... I don't know the story, so I can't comment on the accuracy of that) and her doctor apparently told her she was not, under any circumstances, to have another. Obviously this is a mature and responsible person. So, she can have a 3rd, and we can't have one.

Bitter. Cynical. Jaded. Jealous. These are the words that best describe me these days. Not good.

Worse? I can no longer seem to summon up congratulations for people who got pregnant. At all. Regardless of how long it took them or what they went through.

I had a great little community I was a regular poster in. I just can't seem to bring myself to post there any more. Why? Because I don't feel like I belong any more. These women are moving forward. They're getting pregnant and moving on. They have hope. I have no hope any more. All I have is dispair and bad memories, and in incredible fear that all any further attempts will do is rack up more dead babies who never got a chance because of me.

I don't like that person. She's not very nice. She doesn't have anything to offer except a cautionary tale.

An Anniversary

One year ago today, D and I found ourselves at our clinic, fighting with our original RE's secretary about who had canceled our appointment. It sure as all hell wasn't us... why would we show up for an appointment we canceled? Oh right... we wouldn't.

In the end, our RE said she'd stay a little later to meet with us.

We were there to get the results of all our testing and to find out our diagnosis and prognosis.

One year ago today we were told that our only hope was IVF. Not drugs and timed intercourse. Not IUI. Not drugs and IUI. Straight to IVF.

It's been a crazy year since then. Trying to come to terms with the diagnosis of borderline motility with high DNA fragmentation (but good morphology, go fig). Coming to terms and moving forward. Having a cycle postponed due to a cyst. Going through medication, monitoring, retrieval and transfer. Getting the wonderful call... tempered with extreme caution. Miscarrying. Going through a frozen cycle. Getting the bad news of its failure on New Years Eve. Transferring to another RE when ours left the clinic... after much angst and debate. Trying another fresh cycle, throwing everything possible at us to maximize our chances. Getting a phone call telling us the result was negative when it was only inconclusive. Making it past the point where we lost the first... only to find out that we had lost these, as well but my body hadn't clued in. Seeing countless friends, family members, and co-workers achieve what we were apparently incapable of.

And then the crowing glory... losing my job and having to put everything on hold indefinitely. Again.

Grief. Angst. Heartbreak. Hope. Sadly, progressively less of the last and more of the previous.

Another significant date past. Next up... our birthdays. Another year with no child to share them with. Then the 3 year mark.

It's going to be a rough summer... hopefully I can at least find a job so we can get the ball rolling again. C'mon Fate... throw me a bone!

June 28th...

Yesterday sucked. Actually, the whole week sucked. Rather than looking forward to June 28th with excited anticipation, I was instead reminded of how my body has failed us.

To my little ones who left before we even had a chance to know you... I love you, babies. I always will. I miss you. I miss learning your personalities. I miss knowing your smiles. I miss seeing your first steps, first words, first teeth, first everything. First breath. Yesterday was your 'estimated due date'. Not a day has passed in the past week that I haven't shed tears for lost life, lost hope, lost dreams... my little lost children.

I love you. Always.

I am eternally glad for the true friends I've met and made through this journey. Friends who made damn sure I wasn't alone last night... who offered distraction, but also let me cry. You have helped me more than you will ever know. Because of you I haven't spiralled so far down that there's no hope of coming back... and because of you, I know that when I finally do come back there will be smiling faces waiting for me.

And, to my dear husband... you have saved me. I am so sorry it's been so hard for me to talk about this, even to you. I didn't want you to be dragged back down if you had managed to find peace. I should have known I could have leaned on you anyway, Hon... thank you for reminding me... for your strength, for your courage, for your comfort... for your love. You are the world to me... I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I hope this will be a turning point... that maybe now I can start on the road back to where I used to be. Back to hope. Back to letting myself dream for us. *hugs*