Important conversations happen at the dog park

The past week has been kind of tough.  Not "crying at work" tough, although I've had that in the past.  More just like "totally bummed out and not sure it's worth it to keep going on this treatment train" tough.  Which scares me a bit, as it's the first time that I've turned my mind towards the idea of quitting this whole thing, taking my uterus and going home. 

I'd previously had quite a bit of optimism in our next cycle.  While I know DHEA isn't a magic pill, I'd really held out a lot of hope that this past three months of supplementation would be doing some good and our egg quality would be much better the next time around.  Now, it kind of feels like even if that happens (which is by no means guaranteed), I could just be throwing those embryos away by putting them into my faulty uterus.  Worse, the two-month Lupron treatment my RE is recommending feels suspiciously like a "what the fuck, why not?" kind of approach.  It's like when you're having a computer problem, and you call tech support.  They ask you a bunch of questions, shrug their shoulders, then tell you to turn off your computer and turn it back on again.  Weirdly, sometimes that solves the problem.  But other times it doesn't and you end up in the market for a new computer.  This treatment basically feels like a crap shoot, and if it doesn't work we're risking whatever precious few embryos we might manage to make.  

Throughout this infertility journey, M has usually been a few steps behind me.  I was the first to realize (based on symptoms and lab work) that I likely had DOR.  I was the first to face the facts that our first IVF cycle would likely be cancelled.  And throughout it all, he's steadfastly refused to get into any serious conversation about other options besides IVF, preferring instead to focus his attention on the situation at hand and worry about the rest as it comes.

This weekend, as we sat in the shade of a tree at the dog park watching Buddy run around, I finally got him to talk about the possibility that we might not come out of IVF with a baby.  And I asked him to start seriously thinking about whether he would be content to live child-free, or whether he felt so strongly about being a father that he would want to pursue adoption.  We're not even thinking about donor egg/embryo at this point, since if part of my problem is a lining issue then that's a non-starter.  

I admitted to M that, ever since our trip to see my niece, I'd been having a lot of thoughts about how hard parenting is and had started to doubt whether I was interested in pursuing adoption.  We talked about all the travel we could do if we stayed child-free, and the fact that we could probably retire early.  But there was no joy in this conversation.  No acceptance.  Neither one of us is there yet, and it honestly frightens me that we might get to this point sooner rather than later.  It feels especially hypocritical in light of my recent cheerleading post, but I know at some point it's possible that we'll be questioning whether we have it in us to go through this anymore.  I'm already kind of starting to do that, at least for myself.

That said, IVF #3 will quickly be upon us.  Since it's a well-established scientific fact that my uterus is an asshole, it looks like AF will arrive sometime this weekend or early next week while I'm sitting on a beach in Maine with M and his parents.  I've already done some legwork and found myself a clinic in Portland that will run my CD3 bloodwork, but my baseline ultrasound will have to wait until I get back.  

In the meantime, I'm looking for recommendations for beach reading that will totally take my mind off infertility.  Nothing too light and chic-lit-y, but nothing too deep either.  Help a sister out and leave your suggestions in the comments!