U*G*L*Y, You Ain't Got No Alibi, Yo' UGLY

Went for my follow-up appointment today. While in the waiting room, DH and I discussed our fertility options. He's notorious for ignoring problems until they are huge, festering wounds that only major medical intervention can set right. So, true to form, the poor, innocent man said, "I don't want to talk about adoption or alternatives because I'm just going to hope ivf #2 works." I instantly felt sorry for him because I instinctively knew our talk with the doctor would be an eye-opener for him. I've gotten used to the idea that my eggs are crap, he's still in denial.

Let me preface this information with the fact that, I Love My Doctor. He is definitely the right balance of supportive and realism. So, Dr.Realistically-Supportive (Dr.RS) told us that after scrutinizing our ivf cycle, he thought my eggs were of sub-standard quality. Sub-standard was not his term, he got the point across to me by shrugging his shoulders, raising his eyebrows and saying things like, "Well, when we see eggs like yours, we know there is a problem and (insert shrug) there is really no way to make the eggs better." Translation: Lady, your eggs are so ugly, they make onions cry.

Dr.RS is a pro, he was appropriately gentle, but the look on DH's face when he processed what was said, almost made me cry. I've disappointed him in a way that words just can't express. As an added element of self-torture, I keep having flashes of DH married to someone else, a lovely, pretty, happy, FERTILE woman who, one day, excitedly says, "We're pregnant!" And then he smiles this big, cheesy grin and they hug and cry... I hate it that he will never experience that. DH deserves that. Heck, so do I, but I can't escape the reality that I was born with these eggs. He chose to marry them a mere 6 years ago. I'm afraid, if I were him, I'd be kicking myself for marrying me. Oh, he says all the right things like, "I married you, not your ovaries." But, at the end of the day, when we got married, I didn't bring much to the table. I'm no PhD, super-model or fitness queen. Just a normal, average gal that he thought was marry-able (see, I even make up nonsense words when no one can stop me.)

So, in the end, we are taking a month off from fertility treatments. Next month we try again with different medications. I've already started googling things and found some threads of hope. I'll share them with DH in the next few days as he tries to find his way out of the funk he's in. At least he is still on my team and we'll face the dragon together.