A little itty bitty confession.

I cycled. I tried to cycle.

In February I started suppression - Marvelon for 21 days, and on CD14 of that cycle I started Synarel nose spray twice daily.

On my first bleed, March 7, I started injections - Bravelle (187.5iu) and Menopur (75iu). After 4 days of stims, my e2 level was in the tank - I started to get a very bad feeling about all of this.

My doses were upped: 225iu Bravelle and 150iu of Menopur. In talking to some lovely ladies I know who have been on these drugs - I was on heavy doses. Extremely high for someone of my age, weight, and AFC.

[insert bad feeling here]

On day 6 of stims, ultrasound showed that my left ovary was basically on holidays, not responding at all, and my right only had 6 follies growing. I knew the MINUTE he inserted that transducer and looked at my right side that we were FUCKED.

They'd over suppressed me. I started crying. The doctor looked at me surprised, and then I think he remembered what I did for a living - I know how to read a fucking ultrasound. I knew we were fucked at that point.

He told me flat out that it didn't look good. But he said it was worth stimming for another 2 days, see where we'd get.

Then I said I wanted to talk to my own RE. Great. My RE is on vacation. In Mexico. Fuck.My.LIFE.

2 more days of stims cost me, what, $1000? Only to go in and have another RE scan me, confirm that there is an endometrioma on my left ovary (of which I am CONVINCED the stupid cystectomy in October has something to do with), Lefty has 1 measurable follie growing with 'several under 10mm' and Righty has 5 - 6.

She tells me to continue stims until the morning and we'll scan again. Incredulously, I REMIND her that we're doing fucking PGD! We need at least 15 eggs! What's the fucking point in continuing?!

I go home. I thought, fuck this noise. I am NOT opening another box of this liquid gold. No.WAY.

So I stopped stimming myself on day 9 of stims. And you know what? Day 9 I go in for my last ultrasound and they pull the plug anyway.

My case nurse phoned me afterwards and said that she did get a hold of my RE on vacation, and he's PISSED that the other docs let me piss away my money for so long - he would have pulled the plug on day 5 or 6.

I told her that they need to be more on their toes with us - because the past is proof positive - if anything bad is going to happen during a cycle, it'll happen to us.

I want to be monitored like a fucking HAWK circling its prey next cycle.

At the prompting of a lovely friend, I requested that I be given the hCG trigger despite not going through with the cycle so that we could prompt earlier ovulation and collapse any of the remaining follicles, and hopefully be able to start my next AF sooner. (love you S!) It was a little like pulling teeth to get the injection (I guess they were worried about multiples and a natural pregnancy - but that's pretty hard to do when your husband is on the other side of the country for godsakes).

The pain was unbelievable as I ovulated those 6 or 7 eggs. God almighty, at times I thought I was dying. I can definitely see now why a rupturing cyst can be mistaken for appendicitis. It was 12 hours of agony.

And then came the crash.

Stopping such a high dose of hormones, combined with the failure of the cycle and the fact that I was alone made for a very volatile, emotionally unstable Bug Blogger. I was very depressed there for a good week or two. I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want to talk to anyone, even my husband on our nightly phone calls.

I felt like a failure. I feel like a failure.

My 2 best friends in the whole world are pregnant - one at 36 weeks, the other at 20. Together. Sharing tips and stories. Without me. My sister is pregnant at 10weeks. The three women I'm closest to in my life are fulfilling their dreams of becoming mothers.

And me? I'm left in the dust. I'm left behind still wondering if this will ever happen for us. I'm left here, watching my husband sob after watching the first 4 minutes of 'Babies' and promptly shutting it off.

I feel as though I've failed at trying to be a mother. I don't fail. I don't fail at anything. I'm a perfectionist by nature. My ovaries totally let me down. TOTALLY. Now I know in my head this is illogical - it wasn't me - it was my RE's stoopid fucking protocol for me, and the lack of monitoring, and the fact we should have pulled the plug much sooner and started fresh.

Tell that to my heart.

So now my RE is back in town, and I get to meet up with him this month to discuss what the FUCK went wrong - and how NOT to repeat it again.