Paddling My Own Canoe
I must be mad or benighted or just plain cuckoo.
Just as I finally get back on a long stretch of being normal (who am I kidding?), I decide we are going to cycle in South Africa again.
My friends from across the pond unfortunately cancelled their trip to visit us in August so suddenly I had a lot of holidays earmarked and nothing to do. What else would I decide to do?? Put myself through the DE wringer again, of course.
The truth is that I am more excited to return to Cape Town than I am about another cycle. The weather, the scenery, the people, the food, the wine...all fabulous. I booked the flights as I got a great price for October. It will be my 42nd birthday when we are out there. I cannot wait to take high tea at Kirstenbosch gardens, jazz brunch on Sunday, eyeball the penguins at Boulder Beach, meet up with the gorgeous and divine one again, wake up each morning to that divine view. Whatever horror stories you hear about SA, it is an amazing country to experience at least once in your life.
After I booked our flights (and horrified my donor co-ordinator as that is not the way you are supposed to do it), I picked a donor licketysplit too. You are supposed to pick a donor, she gets her medical exam and once the tests are complete, your dates and cycle plan are sent to you via e-mail THEN you book your flights. Ooops*.
Luckily my wonderful co-ordinator saw the funny side. Mind you, it was a done deal with KLM by then so there was not much else to do really. Thankfully everyone down there bends over backward to be accommodating and helpful and since we are planning this cycle for October, there should be lots of room for leeway (crosses fingers, spits over left shoulder and 3 muttered verses of Shang-A-Lang).
Last year, I hemmed and hawed, considering family history, resemblance to me, hair and eye colours, the whole gamut. This time, I was just "Is she a proven donor????".
Yes, 3 times with two cycles resulting in twins**.
I don't give two hoots for much else. How blase one becomes about this whole process. It makes me feel more mercenary about the whole thing as all I am interested in is a good number of eggs and a solid track record. Ugh.
What I find most ironic is that I rejected this particular donor last year as she was unproven at that time. She has since then become a rockstar donor. Sigh, never mind.
My donor last year was proven, in that she had donated previously but no positive result. Since we were the second couple to receive a donation, it could have just been bad luck. Either way, even if she had been available this year, I was still intent on a new donor.
I am afraid that I don't have the stomach for this any more. I like the even keel, the lack of emotional undertow even if it is pharmaceutically provided. I can even contemplate the whole giving up and staying childless notion now without hysteria and sobbing. If this cycle fails, I am 99.9% ready to close the door. If I won the lottery, maybe not but who knows? This will be my 3rd DE cycle and I am battle-weary.
* A word to the wise....never get between a Scottish lady and a long-haul flight bargain. It can get ugly. Just saying.
** Not that it automatically means that it will work for my deathstar uterus but you know, hope springs eternal, no matter how long she spends trapped in a wardrobe.