So! Cycle 50… something? 53? I think it’s 53. Let’s say it’s cycle 53 of May and H’s Baby Quest of Doom.
[Awww. The Triumph of Hope over Experience. It’s quite inspiring, really – Positive Thinking Fairy]
[Oh my God, woman, this isn’t the Triumph of Hope over Experience, this is the Triumph of Bloody-Minded Yet Completely Mindless Biological-Impulse Driven Arseholery over Every Single Form of Common Sense and Decency – Bitter McTwisted]
H and I are composing an email to Doctor Expensive, to ask him if he a) has the biopsy results, and b) has formulated A Plan for us, and finally c) is this Plan batshit crazy or doable?
I am not interested in taking drugs like Humira or Nupogen, which have severe side-effects up to and including cancer, and have no real research behind them to back up their effectiveness in preventing miscarriage caused by auto-immune issues. Anyhow, if my endometrium is not riddled with killer cells, then this class of drugs would be – hahahaha – overkill.
I am prepared to do LIT, despite the lack of randomised double-blind placebo-controlled studies, as the side-effects are not nearly so scary, and the risks therefore acceptable. Also, H is keen on the idea, as he appreciates the logic of trying to get my immune system to recognise his DNA as very foreign and therefore extending it uterine diplomatic immunity. And I am happy to make H happy.
I am not only prepared but very eager to use Intralipids, steroids and progesterone support. My immune system is clearly pissed off and needs placating, and my luteal phase has always been a tad short.
I am not prepared to take Clomid again, and I may lose it and bite Dr Expensive if he suggests it again (but see Clomid Chronicles in sidebar, there).
I am prepared to do, say, up to three natural (all the fun of the fair in your own bedroom!) cycles, medicated with the above.
If the stress of au naturel becomes, eh, this is awkward, too stressful for timely matrimonial activity during these three putative cycles, I shall, oh, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Lose my freakin’ mind, I suppose. Threaten H with a testicular biopsy. Run screaming down the street stark naked. Join a nunnery. All three at once.
And then, IVF. On intralipids and steroids, top-up LIT, perhaps. Progesterone support would be mandatory, of course.
If Dr Expensive has other ideas, he’d better be damn convincing. I am sick of passively obeying doctors and telling my gut instinct it doesn’t have medical training so it should be quiet. Look where doing that has got me.
(P.S. – I’m getting a fair few ‘click overs’ to my blog from Facebook. I am exceedingly curious as to who is mentioning me over there and in what context. Anyone care to enlighten me? Please?)