Thank you, everyone, for your kind words yesterday. Or maybe it was the day before. Time gets meaningless, doesn’t it?

Had a CD3 monitoring check this morning. Another $200 out of our pockets, just like that. At least everything was clear.

I asked my RE to say something optimistic to me. (Yeah, I’m a pretty annoying patient. Stupid emotions.) He sort of did. I mean, he gave it the ol’ college try.

I have noticed that the only person I would actually like to be optimistic – who actually knows anything about my case and is not just somebody who wants me to stop acting so sad all the time damn it – is my RE. And it just so happens, he does not have an awful lot of optimistic things to tell me. Here at the intersection of Shit Creek and No Canoe, I have to take massive amounts of drugs to get any eggs out, and those massive amounts of drugs are hurting egg quality. Therein lies the problem that science does not know how to overcome.

The most cheerful thought I could eke from him was that he thinks that waiting (and waiting, and waiting, and waiting) for a cycle before the FET was a really good decision. He says that this clinic has found substantial benefit to letting the body recover from the stims.

So it’s still down to the eggs.

What’s the price of a miracle these days?