Since Richard works nights, I cook dinner around 4:00 during his workweek. This afternoon shortly after 4:00, the phone rang with a call from our fertility clinic. I guess I was distracted by the couscous I was boiling because my brain tripped up and declined the call. When I tried to call back, I got the answering service, which only forwards after-hours calls that are medical emergencies.
I waited a few minutes for a voicemail to appear, then I sent my doctor a text to see if he'd tried to call me. He replied, "Calling you in a sec," which commenced the longest four minutes I have experienced in a while. Somehow, I just knew it was bad news. It felt as if the bottom of my stomach had fallen out. Then, I reminded myself that our embryo was beautiful, so the news was probably good.
Finally, my phone rang.
"It's another high mosaic."
I was right the first time.
I talked with my doctor for a few minutes about how having two normal embryos in the freezer is actually pretty good. I told him it doesn't feel good at all, which he said he understood, but we've ultimately had relatively good results for my dismal (my word, not his) AMH level. We discussed the possibility of trying a few IUI cycles before attempting an embryo transfer, and I said I'd talk with Richard about it and let him know. Richard and I will most likely go ahead and try IUI, and we go for a scan first thing tomorrow.
I have a few people (mostly close friends and family) that I try to update about our progress before I post on social media. I can usually come up with a silver lining or at least something to say before I drop the bad news bomb, but I couldn't do it today. I'm over it. So, everyone got a variation of this message, the main variation being inclusion or exclusion of an expletive about the hole I want to crawl into.
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