The fun, it never ends (not for the squeamish)

We went to the RE's this morning so Pili could have a follow-up wanding with Nurse Tall and Brusque (TAB), who incidentally, I am really beginning to dislike. (Is it too much to ask that you give us the information we need to come to our conclusions and make our own decisions? What are you seeing in there, anyway?) For a minute I saw something that I imagined (heart leaping into chest, stomach turning over with emotion) was a fetus on the u/s screen, but apparently it was the uterine lining. I think sonographers really missed their calling as critics of modern art.

Nurse TAB, after much prodding on her point (oops! sorry! just trying to find your right ovary) and much prodding on my point, conceeded that there were still some clots in there, but that the sac had been passed. This was good, but Pili should come back next week again so that we can see if we need to take further steps. D'you mean a D&C, Pili asked. Um, yeah, further steps. Let me just go talk to Dr. SBS for a minute. And she ducked out the door.

This state of affairs jibes with Pili's experience, which is that first there was blood, lots of it. And then not so much. And then more. And then not so much. For basically the past two weeks. And of a somewhat unusual color and consistency.

So we are to come back next week for further scanning and poking. How utterly anti-climatic this feels. We're waiting for there to be nothing.

Last night, Pili suggested that we donate the four remaining embryos to stem cell research. She's sick and tired of being poked and prodded. She feels sick to her stomach when she sees the tasteful furniture of the RE's office and the tasteful smiles of the receptionists. I am... torn.

On the one hand, I want to see this through to the end. I want to know that we did everything we could, and it didn't work. I have no compunctions about saying that adoption is a Plan B for us. When we have our child we will love him or her with one hundred percent Plan A love, but it's not the scenario we had originally imagined. I still love the idea of Pili carrying our child, my egg & mystery man's sperm.

On the other hand, I respect Pili and her right to control what happens to her body. If she's worn out by this process and what it's doing to her, how can I compel her to keep going?

Either way, we're agreed, the adoption goes forward. Because the other piece of it is that neither one of us has a whole lot of confidence that we will a) get pregnant again, or b) stay pregnant again.

Blech.