A) Treat today as CD3 since I am at a baseline state due to no response, and start 200mg Clomid.
B) Treat today as CD3 and try Femara this time
The last one isn't an option due to the cost out of pocket and our outcomes with experience there- the cost would add further insult to injury if we ended up with another miscarriage.
Option B is possible, but I don't know what it would cost out of pocket and don't think I'm up to trying it this week. We decided to go with option A because of cost, timing, experience, etc... but if it fails, I will try Femara as my final attempt.
There is of course always option D- say screw it all, accept that this is something I can not change, and start saving and planning for adoption with all our resources and hearts. I don't think I'm ready to commit to adoption alone just yet- and I need to grieve this loss of biological children and pregnancy before I can. I mean truly grieve it, acknowledge it, and accept it. I hope I can get to that place in the near future. Until then, I will continue to nurture the idea in my heart, research more, plan more, try to save money, and hope that when the time is right I will be ready. No matter what now, I still hope to adopt someday... but that time just isn't quite yet.
On the way home from the doctors I cried my eyes out in the car.
Not just because hope had somehow snuck back in and been ripped out, but because I realized that this was it- or should be- the end. Three years, three miscarriages, hundreds of pills, injections, numerous procedures, surgery... and for what? To be told yet again that there is no response? To go home to my empty house and crawl into my bed- to listen to the silence night after night. I should focus on getting a full time job, I should focus on saving money for a new house and adoption, I should focus on today and plan for the coming years instead of focusing on the coming days and planning life in 2 week increments. I'm tired of having this tunnel vision. I'm tired of the tunnel getting darker and darker as the lights go out around me.
I'm feeling out of sorts and sad, and so many other things.
I better get some sleep- I worked the graveyard shift last night, and I haven't went to sleep yet. I don't know if I can sleep now though. I just... I don't know anymore.
Just like it's one thing to say three years and actually see it, it's also another to say "this is the end" and to actual see that this is the end.
Oh, and tomorrow is also the two year anniversary of my first miscarriage.
I am just a bowl of sunshine, aren't I?
I want to scream, "I don't fucking care anymore!"
but that would be a lie, because the problem isn't that I don't care, but that I care too much, and I just don't have anything left to give.