That’s it, I’m giving in to positivity.

I’m a pretty positive person but in the past few days, I’ve realised my positivity doesn’t quite cover IVF as it should. Much the same as I tell myself when I wake up to my husband, hidden under a mound of duvet, my feet icy cold… IVF very much needs a separate blanket.

Last month our hopes were dashed whilst I breathed a sigh of relief as a pesky/helpful cyst (a natural and normal IVF barrier) stopped us from starting treatment. This morning, a month later, my scan showed all was well and the answer to IVF starting this month was a resounding yes.

Cue messages from friends and phone calls from family to say ‘What great news!’ and ‘That’s exciting!’ and ‘Bet you’re happy you can get going now!’

Although I replied yes, my head responded differently with thoughts of, ‘Well it’s not that great, it means I have to start injections again’ and, ‘No, I’m not excited to get started, it’s actually the last thing I want to do right now, in fact it’s not in the least bit exciting. More an enormous emotional ordeal that I’m entering into with a heavy heart and tentative expectations.’

Yeah.. I can be a right emo sometimes, it’s my teen angst years still hiding in there somewhere, holding on with black painted fingernails and multiple Counting Crows albums. Actually, I make no apologies for Counting Crows – Live from Across a Wire will forever be a favourite.

But emo or not, the truth is that IVF becomes ‘exciting’ for me when we get a positive test at the end. Then that excitement will swiftly be replaced a second later with the fear of whether it will last. So actually, once I’ve had a 12 week scan… Then I’ll be excited.

That’s the bugger with IVF. It makes you scared to hope, scared to be positive. It’s like a fate temptation type of worry and I’m so susceptible to those. As much as I try to retrain my thoughts there’s a tug back to the ‘don’t dare to hope camp’, like an overstretched elastic band preventing me from throwing full positive vibes at the situation. Because if I do, and it doesn’t work again….well then that means positive thinking doesn’t work, and I don’t want to find that out. It’s about the only thing I have control over in this process. That, and eating ample vegetables whilst staying off the wine.

However…

As I believe that mindset effects an awful lot, I am doing my utmost to feel confident and positive about this cycle. Regardless of the outcome, regardless of a doctor telling me I don’t have many eggs and should, therefore, consider immune therapy, and regardless of how shitty I’ll feel if it doesn’t work.

In the meantime, it feels better to be positive. So. I will look forward to the injections, I will get excited about hearing my egg count and I’ll embrace the situation. I will class the journey as a roller coaster rather than a shitty situation and I’ll be keen to add a little more hormone into the mix each day rather than counting each one down. At least as much as I possibly can.

It’s our lot and many people have it much worse, so it makes sense to be happy we have the opportunity and welcome it with open arms rather than begrudge it. Sometimes it’s not always easy to remember that but I’m making a pact with myself to remember it more.

One injection down and many to go. Sorry, let me rephrase that, one injection in and many to add.

Whether this is the cycle that works or one of the ones in between, it’s part of our journey and it will take us somewhere. Hey, people pay to go to Thorpe Park Right?! Statistics suggest that with this game, the more you do, the more likely you end up with a positive outcome. So we may as well start racking them up.

Onto Round 2.

Photo credit: It’s not totally relevant, but it was taken on my wedding day with my wonderful friend Jo, by the talented Alan Law. It makes me smile every time I look at it.

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