The dreaded cyst

Yesterday I had my baseline appointment to start an IVF cycle, my first after the last one was cancelled.

I foolishly told dh that it was going to be uneventful, as what can go wrong in a baseline appointment?

roll in the evil sarcastic laugh at my naivete...  heh heh heh

Yep, there they were, two big cysts on my left ovary that signals the end of the hope for an IVF cycle.

Cruel fucking joke.

So I started all of this very serious ART in December with the goal of having it all said and done in March.  DONE.  On to whatever was in store for me.

But NOOOOOOOOO.  Why would that plan work out for me? 

So I first had to deal with the septate uterus, which meant surgery after 20 days of some drug followed by 30 days of a really high dose of estrogen. 

This was followed by the abject failure of an IVF attempt that yielded only 3 follicles, so we did an IUI.  Which of course, did not work.

But then we were happy that we could take extremely expensive ganirelix to put off my next cycle by a week so that we could go on a long-ago schedule business trip (that I really couldn't miss).  I paid over $1,000 for those drugs...

Only to find out yesterday that I think I was mis-instructed on how to take them, as the doctor seemed surprised when I said my ganirelix start date.  I followed the nurses calendar to a T, including even doing a dissertation committee meeting by conference call while I waited for the Fed Ex to arrive with my new drugs. 

So here I sit with the dilemma of having to decide how to play out my summer.  Field work?  Remember I was adamant that I'd go no matter what?  Yeah, right.  Now that "no matter what" includes the distinct possibility that I won't have even gotten to try ONE IVF.  Fuck.  I really, really, really hate IF. 

But I love having you all here to listen and to help me lick my wounds.