Appointments just keep coming

I keep thinking that I'm approaching a (small) break in my insane appointment schedule, and then I get set up with a whole new set of appointments.  Today I had fertility, and then at the last minute was scheduled to meet with the cancer counselor.  I am also scheduled for fertility again on Saturday, counseling again on Thursday, and chemotherapy "teach" session on Thursday.

So what did I learn today?  Well it looks like I may have fewer eggs for harvest than originally believed.  I'm trying not to think about this as anything since we are creating these embryos for a reason.  It isn't a bad thing if we "have" to use them.  They counted 9 eggs today, which is significantly fewer than the 16 on Tuesday, and the 18 last week.  I guess at certain points of your cycle your eggs and blood vessels look very much the same, so it can be a little hard to tell. We really won't know until the harvest anyhow.  Really- we only need one, and it would be nice to have maybe 5 viable embryos "just in case".  So even with 9 clear eggs, that shouldn't be a problem.  Most importantly we think that the harvest will occur on Tuesday of next week.  So we are getting close!

We have also officially scheduled the start of chemotherapy.  I will begin treatment on Monday, March 21st.  So those of you who do energy work, pray, meditate, whatever, at 8:30 am on Monday the 21st, send it my way!  See the Chemo seeking out those cancer cells (and only those cancer cells) and destroying them.  Productive poison. =)

I'm still struggling with the emotions of this whole process.  It really isn't something anyone could prepare you for, and I'm sure everyone is a little different in how they feel and respond to the situation.  With that said it is definitely a roller coaster.  One day it is fear of dying and leaving my family.  The next day it is about my hair and appearance and all things vain to go along with that.  The next is just the entire lack of clarity about what it means to be "a survivor".  Today I described living with the diagnosis like having a bubble around your entire body.  You are still physically capable of doing everything that you usually do, nothing has really changed, but you feel as though you are slightly detached from the rest of the world and if you hit something just hard enough, or catch just the right edge- you could pop.  Probably a strange description, but it is the best I've got so far. =)  I'm sure it will change along the way.

And on a happy note- here is a photo of my sweet baby girl.  The true light of my life.  Nick is my rock, and Bella is the sunshine on my face.  =)