Saturday, August 24, 2013


Yesterday was a tough day. I went in for my baseline appointment to get an ultrasound and blood work first thing in the morning. Then I picked up the dog and we made the trip to go to work at my brother's camp.

Coda had a very rough car ride. He got sick twice, so I pulled over and held a bag for him. I almost caught it all, and just felt so awful for him. When we got to camp, Coda was extremely scared. I tied him out next to the field, but every time I walked away he barked and whined. It broke my heart, so I took him to the cabin and set up his crate. He didn't want to leave the crate all day.

While I was "working" on the field, I couldn't help but to be totally distracted. I felt like I was torn in two. My body was present, but everything else was far, far away.

I was waiting on the pharmacy to call me back and let me know when my meds were ready to pick up. I was also bracing myself for the final cost. I knew it would be expensive, and while I am tremendously grateful for my insurance, my prescription plan is a complete PITA (I have to pay 100% OOP and then get reimbursed 80% later. I am still waiting to be reimbursed for the Ovidrel from May 4th).

I got the call from the pharmacy and, gulp, the final bill for the Follistim, Cetrotide and Ovidrel comes to over $3,000. The shock is still setting in. My pregnant SIL was at the rehearsal when I got off the phone with the pharmacy, so I told her what was going on. Her jaw dropped when I told her how much the meds cost. She asked, "Is it really necessary to use the medication? What happens if you don't do it?" I told her about our piddly 2% chance of success if we tried naturally. No medical intervention is not an option.

I tried to focus on my work for the rest of the day, and the rest of the staff I'm sure knew something was going on. I haven't told them, but they've all been very respectful of my distance. I already feel sad, guilty and left out because I am not continuing with the rest of the season.

When it was finally time to go home, I packed up the car and buckled Coda in. His expression made me feel terrible. He hates the car, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd have to pull over and hold a bag for him.

We made it home, and I unpacked the car. I dinged the side of my car with Coda's crate. When I went to assess the damage, that's when I lost it. I came completely unraveled, and spent the rest of the night ugly crying my eyes out. My stress level was so high, I needed to take something off my plate.

I called my brother and told him that I wouldn't be coming back to camp. He understood immediately and told me to take care of myself. I'm certain that my emotional phone call made him uncomfortable, and all he wanted to do was fix the problem as quickly as possible. He let me off the hook without a second thought.

I spent the rest of the night talking to some of my fellow Dreamers. I would be lost without them. Then John got home from his long day of work. It felt so good to snuggle up to him and talk everything out. I love him so much.

I didn't even see this meltdown coming. I guess I have been putting up a facade for so long that I was starting to think I really was ok.

I think I feel unsettled because we don't have a solid back-up plan if this cycle doesn't work. I hope and pray that it does, but after all of the failures we have faced I can't even imagine what life will be like after we get to the other side. I feel lost and confused. I don't recognize myself anymore. I wonder if I'll ever come back when all of this is over.

I thought writing all of this out would make me feel better... but scrolling up and seeing all of that text without a conclusion makes me feel even more lost.