No news from the donor today. She's stimming along... hopefully doing her best and staying positive. I continue to inject myself with Lupron and pop Estrace pills like Chickets, hoping that my womb of doom will be more accomodating this time around. After three IUIs, six IVFs and one ectopic pregnancy, it's hard to envision my uterus being a place of sunshine and roses.
I'm told that, in addition to the $8,000 donor compensation, it's customary to give a donor gift. After browsing at Tiffany & Co., I decided on an Elsa Peretti "Color by the Yard" necklace.
It arrived today. It was a bit pricey, but I bought it with the belief that this woman is making my dream come true. Someone this important deserves something beautiful. I bought one for myself, too. :)
Of course, the fear continues. I'm beginning to define what success means for myself at this point. I've never had any embryos to freeze before, so I'll be happy to have any this time. This is my donor's third cycle; both mothers in the previous cycles got pregnant, too (one has already delivered a healthy girl). I'm petrified to shatter my donor's winning ways.
There's more I could say, but I'm tired tonight. A few observations:
- I'm notorious for arriving late to every party, and that means falling in love with sitcoms midway through the show's heyday. I've discovered "The Office". I really liked it... I could even appreciate the sweetness of Pam and Jim... until I read tonight that Pam's pregnancy prompts them to marry. Am I the only person disappointed by this development? Perhaps this is old news, but it's news to me. And I'm sad. I wish Hollywood would create a show that deals with the realities of infertility ("Friends" went there, but of course the road ends with a happy twin adoption. So not real life). But I understand why Hollywood stays away: the real world likes to pretend we don't exist. Our truth is too ugly for them to fathom even in 22-minutes increments. Let's instead watch that Duggar bitch pop out her 38th kid. Oh no, here I go again...
- The fertile-frenzy of Facebook has reach epic proportions. During a five minute visit today, I was bombarded with posts about ultrasounds, burp clothes, peanut allergies, and being in "oh-soooo-much-discomfort-because-I'm-six-months-pregnant." Guess it's a consequence of my friend list, but seriously, if I ever do become pregnant, no one will know about it. Ever. Or until I can't continue physically to hide the fact. I will never be so stupid to believe that anyone on this planet cares about my fetus' every move.
That's enough for now... time to cuddle with my cat.