Scar Tissue

I have a lot of tattoos. I started young and have accumulated 9 of them, although I wish it was more. Each one of them, for better or for worse, reminds me of a different time in my life. Some of them are beautiful. Some of them I can't believe I actually chose to put on my body. Some I have covered with new ink, and some I want to elaborate on. People who don't love tattoos don't understand why I would subject myself to intense physical pain to put a permanent mark on my body. They don't see the payoff. They have a point - technically, tattoos are scars. Occasionally, when I am in the shower or scratching an itch, I run my fingers over my tattoos, and can often feel tiny ridges of scar tissue. But mostly, when I look at my tattoos, I see the pretty and not the ugly ridges underneath.

KG has had a couple of minor surgeries to remove basal cell and suspected basal cell spots. Some scars are bigger than others, but the one on his face is barely perceptible. This tiny line that marks the spot of something that was harmful that is now gone. But, the one on his belly is considerable. It wasn't as carefully done, so it kept a purple color and rough edges. The scars are different shapes and sizes, all garnered with considerable pain. But, when I look at KG's scars, I am more grateful that they removed the cancerous cells than I am upset about them leaving such a mark.

Unfortunately, KG and I have accumulated a lot of new scars over the last couple of years. These are the kind that don't show on the surface. These scars become visible at specific times. Years of frustration, pain, sadness, and disillusionment caused the ridges to build. They have built up so much that we can't see past them. Over the last week, KG remarked to me that we are more prepared for bad news than good news. Every time the phone rang with excellent news of the retrieval, embryo reports, and the transfer date, our hearts were in our throats. We were certain the news would be bad. We knew we were going to be disappointed again. Scars.

In a few hours, we have our embryo transfer. Once again, I am up before 7am, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scars.

Do scars ever really disappear? Or do they just become less and less noticeable with time?

We are hoping one of these days we can focus on the pretty and stop running our fingers on the ridges.

"Your ovaries have great potential"

While in the stirrups yesterday, dildocam in use, this is what the technician said to me. She was peering at the screen looking at "tons" of follicles. Yup, lots of eggs. They are just developmentally challenged. After about 7 days on the shots, there weren't any measurable follicles (we need them to grow to about 15-20mm).  So, they more than doubled my dose of Gonal-F (went from 75iu per day to 112.5iu two times per day). That's right: double the shots, double the fun!

I almost giggled when she said it though. It reminded me of when I was a little kid in elementary school. I used to get comments on my report cards that said, "Not working to potential" or "Needs to give more effort." By the time I hit high school, I swung to the other side of the pendulum, and started to drive myself crazy trying to get all my assignments as perfect as possible. That's kind of the way I approach TTC too. Always preoccupied with what I could do better.

It's nice to know that my egg bags are promising, if they give more effort.