Marisa Hope.

Cycle Day One for us IVF-ers means that you've just finished your prescribed duration of birth control pills and you should be beginning a very doctor controlled few weeks.  You move to Day Two and beyond only if Day One tests go well.  For H and I, Day One was on Saturday. 

We arrived at SGF at 7am to a waiting room full of women, couples, and not too many smiles.  It is a little strange to sit in a room full of strangers, but at the same time know something very personal about all of them - they are having trouble getting pregnant.  I pondered just how many of us in the world are quietly affected by infertility as H and I waited.  About 20 minutes later I was called back for blood work.  They draw blood so they can check my hormone levels.  They also always check my weight, which always irritates me, especially in the winter.  Isn't everyone 5 lbs heavier in January (post Christmas and wearing multiple layers)?!  They measure my height too.  Still 5'8".  Not shrinking, so that's a relief.

Next up was the ultrasound.  H hadn't seen one of these yet, so he came into the room with me.  The tech entered and began poking around in search of my ovaries.   I knew ahead of time that the one thing we didn't want to see in this episode of Poltergeist was a cyst.  Cysts are like pregnancy obstacles; they get in the way and can wreak havoc in a place where I need things very controlled.  After getting the all clear on the right ovary, the tech spent a few seconds looking around for the left one.  When she found it, she also found a cyst.  Unlike all the other times I looked at that little screen, this time I saw an image loud and clear.  The cyst comes across like a big, fuzzy, black smudge.  As soon as she pointed it out, I looked at H.  "That's not good," I said.  The tech, hearing my premature conclusion, began trying to ease my worst fears (a delayed protocol and/or yet another procedure to drain the cyst).  She measured it to convince me that it was small (that didn't help).  She explained something about estrogen vs non estrogen cysts (estrogen spewing ones are bad).  She patted my leg and told me not to cry.  But, it was too late.  The tears were already there.  They began to form the second I saw the smudge.  I was upset because I keep wishing that for once, my body would cooperate and do what it is supposed to- the FIRST time.  The longer this process lasts, the more I realize that I have really no control over what my insides do.  I can take my pills at the same time every day, eat well, drink lots of water, be a health nut, you name it - and it might not make a difference to my ovaries.  I have to let time take care of things.   The lessons on patience are endless.  On her way out the door, the tech reminded us that we'd get a call from the nurse later that day.  The nurse would give us our instructions:  Continue to Cycle Day 2 or wait out the cyst.

Once we were alone, I got dressed, walked over to H, gave him a hug and said, "Well, I guess we're not pregnant."  He laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement, but also knew I was probably, just a little, secretly wishing the ultrasound would reveal that kind of miracle.  "You're a hopeful young lady," he said.  "It's my middle name!" I exclaimed.  We laughed again.  I do work very hard to manage my expectations, because as Saturday further evidenced, anything can pop up and possibly throw things askew.  But even a midst all the twists and turns, part of me does hang on to hope.  Something has to keep me in this crazy game, so hoping for us to be parents is never far from my mind.  I'll take a miracle whenever and however it comes; big ones or small ones.  I left the office knowing I had a cyst, but hoping it wouldn't be the protocol disrupting kind.

We stayed fairly busy on Saturday.  Based on history, I expected a call around 4pm.  No such luck.  At 5:30pm I was beginning to panic... not knowing what kind of cyst I had, or if I should keep taking the birth control pill, or if I should proceed with the protocol.  So many questions.  H convinced me to call the after hours number.  I didn't want to because it is supposed to be for emergencies (was this an emergency?).  But, as he correctly pointed out - SGF had a job to do (call me with results) and they hadn't, so I didn't need to feel guilty for paging a doctor.  As I started dialing the number, the SGF digits popped onto my screen.  Phew!  The nurse told us that my doctor had reviewed all the lab work and determined it was safe to start my meds on Tuesday, as planned. My cyst was the non-estrogen kind.  Crisis averted.  A little joy filled my heart.   Hope won; I'm going to keep it around for a while.