Officially freaking out

I have tried everything to distract myself. I slept in for as long as possible this morning, gave myself a manicure, changed the sheets and doona covers, packed the dishwasher, unpacked the dishwasher and then repacked the dishwasher again! I have baked butterfly cakes (which are very yummy by the way), wrapped up four gifts for birthdays in the coming months, and caught up on reading the latest goss from Perez. It got so bad that I actually asked Murray if he wanted to catch the late movie at the cinema. Usually he has to practically beg me to go.

What the **** is going on with me!

I can't get tomorrow out of my head. I have so many questions that I want to know the answers to. Like is the success rate lower with IVM because people produce less eggs therefore leading to a lower percentage of embryo transfers taking place? Is it to do with the eggs having to be matured and therefore their makeup altered? And if it is the former, does that mean our chances are now the same as a normal IVF couple? I would much rather take the 55% that was offered with normal IVF than the 25-30% offered with IVM.

There are other questions, like how long could we physically, emotionally and financially go on for if necessary. How much can a person really deal with? So many of my IVF support people have been on this rollercoaster for years- am I going to be one of those people? Or will I be the newbie IVF barbie that got pregnant first time round. Promise there will be no baby dust...

Then there are the other thoughts that creep in. What's worse than thinking that it might not work, is thinking that it just might. I've been finding myself drifting off, debating the merits of different hospitals, obstetricians and maternity wards. About special ways to tell the parents and other family, whether green and pink are good nursery colours, and the best time to start maternity leave. I have said previously that hope is good. I take it all back. Hope is a bitch. It makes you excited even though logically you know you shouldn't be. It builds you up to potentially break you down. You know the deal, the higher up you are, the further to fall. But at the same time, what if I didn't climb that high? Could I really survive without emotionally attaching myself to this little embryo that is about to be inside me? I'm not sure that I am capable of that either.

Okay, that is it, I am not allowing myself to freak out anymore. At least not tonight. Or at least the next ten minutes.