When is enough enough?

So tomorrow is my blood test to check my progesterone levels and come up with a plan of action for when I “pull the trigger” in about three weeks.  I’m glad we’re being proactive about this as it may very well save an otherwise doomed pregnancy.  Of course I hope the test shows my progesterone levels are just fine, but I already know they aren’t based on my low post-ovulation temperatures (they seem to be particularly low this month, which is worrisome).

Other than last Monday’s ultrasound, which only confirmed that I had ovulated too long ago to proceed with an IUI (but they didn’t find anything weird like cysts, missing parts, or endometriosis, so I guess I should be glad about that), this blood test will be my first definitive look into my reproductive future, for reals this time.

I hope this time I ask all the questions I have to ask and don’t just shuffle out the door backwards mumbling, “ok, yes, thank you” like a turn of the century butler.  What I want to ask is, if I do have low progesterone, how low is it, and what is the best option to fix it?  Can it be fixed?  Is this common, should I be worried?  Is low progesterone an indicator that I have poor egg quality?  Is there a fix for that?  Etc etc. 

Since the beginning of this process I have asked myself what my bottom line is – how much am I willing to put my body and bank account through before I give up?  We all wish things like this to be easy and painless, but life has taught me that nothing is ever as easy as we hope.  So, where do I stop?  How many IUIs?  What fertility meds am I willing to subject myself to (if any)?  Can I afford a round of IVF if it’s my only option? 

A creepy thing happens when you want a baby and you know you’re not young and it may not be so easy.  At first you think you’ll just be all carefree and easy about it – “oh, I’ll try a couple of times and if it doesn’t work then I’ll know it just wasn’t meant to be.”  But then you think a little more about it, that moment when you’ve tried unsuccessfully to get pregnant with no medical assistance, and your doctor (or your studies on the internet) tells you that you might want to think about trying Clomid for a cycle.  Or Femara, or any one of the fertility meds out there.  And then you ask yourself, “boy, if it’s just one round of fertility meds and then a healthy baby, isn’t it worth it?  How would you feel if you stopped trying before taking further action and spent the rest of your life wondering, if only I’d tried Clomid would I have grandkids now?  I mean, this is my BABY we’re talking about.”  And the next thing you know you’re saying to yourself, sure, I’d try some meds.  I’d do injectibles.  Maybe I can take out a loan, maybe I can max out that credit card, maybe I can not pay down that debt…and what I want to know is, where does it end?  At what point does the longing for a child become unhealthy and dangerous to your mental health (and finances)?

Right now I can’t say what my “limit” is.  I have no intention of sending myself into financial ruin over this…but it’s easy to say that now.  Just one $15,000 loan for one IVF cycle and I could have a healthy baby…just one $3000 round of injectibles and I could have a healthy baby…etc etc.  Not to continually toot the “I’m glad I get to do this myself” horn, but here is another area where it helps to be alone – I get to decide when enough is enough.  I don’t have to feel pressured to do extraordinary things to my body if I really don’t want to; I don’t have to be told “that’s it, we’re done,” when I’m not done.  Like everything else on this motherhood journey, I figure the answer to the “when is enough enough?” question will be discovered as I go.  Hopefully, I won’t have to make this choice, the choice to stop.  But if I do, I hope it’s as clear for me as was the choice to start.