Throughout life its easy to pick up and drop off labels: female, sister, lover, wife, Christian, addict, femme.

Today I have a new label. Hearing the words tore my heart in two.

Diminished Ovarian Reserve (with an egg quality issue)

Simply put my ovaries are about ten years ahead chronologically. Everything else is 34 but I have the ovaries of a woman in her mid 40’s. Dr. Paisan was honest and straightforward finding the balance between total gloom and doom and ridiculous optimism. He believes my only chance is IVF because considering my crap fertilization doing IUIs may just be a waste since we have no idea if fertilization is happening.

IVF #3 has to be a “full court” press: Clomid, 8 amps of meds (either gonal-f/repronex or Bravelle/Menopur), antagonist, ICSI and AH. At this point he will push the envelope and go for maximum embryo transfer. Other than that our only option is donor egg/donor embryo. Baby Sis (not crazy Sis) thought of donating her egg BUT since what I have is probably genetic she may have questionable fertility as well. In fact while she’s only 24, she may have to think about kids now because she doesn’t have the time she thinks she has.

He wanted to do testing: ATA, Chromosome Karotyping, and Fragile X syndrome (go google I haven’t yet) so I gave up four tubes of blood with Mikey next to me. As we waited for a tech I looked at her and said: “I love you. You are enough. We can have a great life just the two of us.” Tears were shed slowly and quietly.

But the real heartbreak came on the way out: The IVF grant will not pay for this kind of protocol and we have exhausted my insurance. Even if we were up for IVF #3 we don’t have the money. We’ve avoided TTC debt and don’t want to go into debt. And we’re too proud to ask.

I am in awe at how many tears I have stored in me right now just waiting for the right time.