Game Over

So. After further checks it would appear that none of our four frosties are viable for transfer. None. Game over.

I didn't think it would affect me this much. I realise that's an incredibly naive thing to say, really I do, but there you go. It's been over a week now and I'm still crying at the drop of a hat, drinking too much vodka and only really wanting to eat pizza. Which is not a good thing - I put on half a stone in five days on the IVF meds and I struggle to lose weight at the best of times. But hey ho.

"Why don't we just do another round?" I hear you cry. A lot of other people have asked the same question. It's an easy answer to be honest - cost. We borrowed £10,000 from the bank to fund this round, we spent £9,500 of that getting this far. We simply can't afford to do it again. Even though now I know I could go through it, I was worried I wouldn't be able to but it would appear that I can. The irony is not lost on me.

I keep questioning everything. Did they just get a bad batch of eggs out of me that particular month? If we'd done it the month before or the month after would we have got a different outcome? Did I react badly to the drugs and did that affect egg quality? Was it my eggs or his sperm? Or both?! Are we just not compatible? Hubby has a lot of inheritable serious illness in his family, whilst the clinic tested for motility and shape there is no way of knowing if they carry any abnormalities which have made things unviable. I guess the most likely reason though is my age - I am 41 this year. Egg quality goes down with age, all the science says so. So maybe I am taking this so badly because I am blaming myself. Or, more likely, I realise that we have now waved goodbye to any chance of me ever getting pregnant. Adoption is still on the cards so there is still a chance we'll be parents, but there is now a very very real chance I will never be pregnant. We'd even talked about using our frosties with a gestational surrogate if the first couple didn't stick in me. All of this stuff we'd talked about that will never need to be said again. When will the questions end? When will the nightmare end?

Very sweetly, both sets of parents also gave us some money to go towards treatment (this would have paid for the meds and other associated costs of our first transfer, subsequent transfers we were going to fund ourselves) and they do not want that money back - we did offer as we felt bad. So we're using that for five nights in New York next month. We both love the city but haven't been for a few years. I'm not even looking forward to it at the moment, although I'm sure I will. At least I hope I will. Right now I just can't look past this. This failure. This, what seems like at least, finality of our journey.