And then there was one

That's it, no more Petri dishes filled with our maybe-babies anymore. Now all we have is to wait and to prep for cycle number two. There is one little hope sitting frozen while we await its genetic screening results - which at my age put it at a perfect coin toss of being our first healthy embryo or the last one in the discard line from our first cycle.

The final report - leaving us with 50/50 odds that we may have just banked our first healthy embryo.

There were a few wins, enough to justify carrying on: we now know that I definitely have eggs that can be successfully fertilized and can grow to blastocyst stage. And we now know more about how my body responds that my doctor can use to better tailor the next cycle to my unique profile. If this is a numbers game, we just need more numbers, and the only way I'll be getting that is by cycling more. At the same time, it's hard not to get down on myself. Was it horribly arrogant of me at 37 years old to think I could change lanes and decide to go the bio parenting route? And how will I keep up the pace at work while walking a journey that might take the rest of this calendar year?

I'm exhausted, overwhelmed, distracted, disappointed, and very much needing to get back onto my work laptop.