From the worst to one of the best days ever.

Let's just go chronologically, shall we?

This morning started off with a fresh headache from this side of hell. A few minutes later, right on schedule, AF showed. My miracle BFP cycle hopes were dashed. After 5 days+ of spotting, I figured it was coming, but it still hurt, ya know? Knowing that I was coming to night shift tonight, I decided to go to TJMaxx and return something and do a little retail therapy for CD 1 blues. It couldn't hurt, right? 

Wrong. 

 

The day before, I picked up a rental car while my car was being fixed from the great Edisto Wreck 2013. Fast forward to this morning and the low tire pressure light is on in the rental. As an omen for the rest of my day, the back driver's side tire was flat. I pumped some air in it, called Enterprise and they said my local Sears store would fix it. It's close to TJMaxx so I thought I could take it there on my way for therapy. No big deal. 

DH called and wanted me to bring him and his coworkers Dominos. In the midst of this, I was talking to my RE's office and hoping that my work schedule and RE schedule would be compatible for this cycle. But, noooooo, that would be too easy. I work 3 - 12 hour night shifts in a row. Friday would be my ideal appointment day and would be CD 4, which would work out perfectly with my work schedule. But, wouldn't you know, the RE and Missy the needle nurse won't be in the office that day. 

 She said, "How about tomorrow at 9 am?" 

I said, "I work night shift. I can't do it tomorrow unless it is reeeaaaaalll early or late." 

She said, "How about 11am?"

 I said, "In what world is 11 am really early or really late?" 

Woman, "How about 2:30?" 

Me, "How about 4 pm?" 

 This woman really needs to get a clock and learn the definition of early and late. But, whatever, one thing down. It's not my ideal, perfect appointment and it will totally screw up my sleep and maybe make me cranky at work the following night, but I can deal with it. 

 Continuing on with my wait at the tire shop, the tire boy tells me there's a nail in it and it will take 30 minutes to fix it. This messes up my time schedule to get DH's lunch, deliver it and then get to the pharmacy 30 minutes away, pick up part of my meds for this cycle and then run back home for a quick nap before night shift. Knowing that DH really wants pizza, I let tire boy fix the tire and skipped TJMaxx. I called and called Dominos and no answer. Weird, but I figured I would run by and place the order in person. No dice. The power is out. The oven's are off and by now, I am starving and DH's lunch break is almost over. We grabbed a quick bite at another place and I rushed over to the pharmacy. 

 Because I am a planner, I called Target pharmacy beforehand to make sure it was on hand. 

"Yes, the order is here," Pharm girl says. "It's for this many milligrams." 

 Wrong. "No, Ma'am. It should be a different amount." 

 Fast forward and we get it straightened out, but not before giving me another minor heart attack that something else was going to go wrong with this day and furthermore, this cycle. 

 Time doesn't stand still and I didn't make it home in time to take my nap. By this time, I my blood pressure is up and I need some stress relief. Taking advantage of a few extra minutes before I needed to get ready for work, I headed on over to my old stomping grounds and took my first ever run at my Alma Mater. It's hillier than my other favorite trails but it is also nostalgic because it brings back the college memories from 10 years ago. Plus, it gave me the opportunity to try my feet out at running on some public roads. I had a fear of it, but I wanted to conquer it and realized that I was strong and brave enough to run on the roads and run past the soccer team practice. :) 

Sacrificing my naptime was worth it as I completed Week 4, Day 1 of C25K. It steps up the workout to include two 3:00 runs and two 5:00 runs with walking between them. Considering that it was 90 degrees and blazing hell fire sun outside, I completed all but about 1 minute of the running portions, walked for a minute and then finished that missing minute. I wish I could have finished it completely, but I still felt amazing that I got that much running in under those conditions. 

 I get back in my car and see that DH is calling. He's lost his keys. This doesn't shock me. He loses them weekly and finds them pretty quickly. But, now his lost keys affect me. Now, I have to drive alllllll the way across town again to pick him up or take the extra key to him, which means I have about 20 minutes to get ready for work. Hours later, he still can't find his keys and we're looking at several hundred dollars to get replacement keys for the car and his truck, which have to be official replacement keys because of those stupid security sensors. Plus, his boss is going to be extra pissed because he has dozens of keys to school and park and rec buildings on that key ring. 

 I tell you all of this long drawn out and mundane crap because it makes sense when you consider it all together. These little things on any other day wouldn't have bothered me so badly. I would have brushed them off as bad luck and went on with my day. However, these were all little straws that were landing on the camel's back. And I am the camel.

 Watch out. They spit. (If you get that movie reference, you win a cookie.) 

 Last night, we decided that this would be our final cycle with the RE. We would declare ourselves as financially infertile after this cycle. At a cost of $1,200 for injects and IUI, we would have been eating away at our savings in big chunks. We both felt that putting ourselves in a financial bind was not the smart thing to do. We decided to make this our hail mary cycle and then go back to natural cycles. If the natural cycles didn't produce a miracle, then we would start applying for adoption. In the mean time, we were going to pad the savings for either more medicated cycles or to put towards adoption. 

 IF has taken an emotional toll on both of us. Me, probably more than DH. I sometimes feel like this is all my fault. The rational part of my brain tells me that IF is not my fault, but the other half always points to my Endo and weak O as where to blame. DH has a great sperm count. I feel broken that I can't get my body to act right. I know that I wouldn't blame him if he had sperm problems, but my head still persecutes me. 

 With that still on my mind all day knowing that this month could be the last cycle with a real chance at a BFP, I was depressed. Throw in a trip to the exact same Target store for my meds where I had the Great Breakdown Moment of 2013 in the Target Starbucks and I was sinking lower and lower. All those little interruptions in my plans today was like someone was taking jabs at my ankles and I was left with very little stability to stand on. 

 My drive to work was a battle as my eyes filled with tears and I was to the breaking point of CD 1, emotions over this cycle and the stress of the day. 

 I fought back tears as I didn't want to explain to coworkers what was wrong. I choked back emotions and signed in to my console and was ready to babysit the phone lines. 

 A few minutes into the shift, I decided to check my email. I had been busy all day (you've read this far so you can already see that) and I started shaking. 

 "Subject: Gonal F Match!!!" 

 The tears couldn't be held back any longer. I cried. I ugly cried from excitement and from relief. The donation from the IF OOP Donation Group on TB is enough for one cycle and maybe more.

 I won't know officially until tomorrow when I meet with the RE for my scan and injects protocol, but I know how huge this donation is. 

 It's the difference between one Hail Mary cycle and possibly a few cycles after that. It's the difference of me walking into the cycle scared, with very little hope of a 25% BFP chance to knowing that we have can do an IUI 3 and possibly IUI 4, if needed. 

 I know that I am not in this alone and that there are so many generous people out there who help each cycle whether it's by internet hugs, advice, support and shoulders to cry on. 

To my donor,I don't know if you read my blog or even if you know who I am on TB, but I can't thank you enough. The words aren't even appropriate to compensate for the generosity you have given me. But, I will say them anyways, "Thank you."