Premature Ovarian Failure doesn't leave much in the way of "options," making it difficult to blog regularly about a "journey."
So here's what I'm doing: Waiting. Waiting some more. Having cross-your-fingers-that-was-the-good-kind-of-cervical-mucus-even-though-it's-day-39-of-my-cycle sex. Cry over BFN. Occasionally get a period. Wait some more. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
I'm staring into a long, dusty, abandoned road to nowhere. There is no scenery. No side trips. No end in sight. I can't floor the gas pedal and go any faster. I can't even blow my savings getting my car souped up. I could change the destination, but I don't want to go anywhere else. Not yet anyway.
I feel very much in limbo right now. There are no last resort IUIs or IVFs (or first resort IUIs or IVFs) on the horizon. No ovary stimulating fertility meds. No fresh or frozen embryos to work with. There MIGHT be a few lonely eggs decaying and rolling around my barren desert of an ovary. Therein lies the sliver of hope and also the cruelty of POF. It's the reason we're not ready to detour to adoption or donor eggs. It's the reason we might NEVER be ready for adoption or donor eggs. When do we give up on my ovaries? What if there's one lonely fighter, just biding its time, waiting for the right moment?
Research indicates that gals with POF have a 5-10% chance of conceiving naturally. With no intervention. However, they have no clue what distinguishes the ladies who conceive from the ladies who never conceive, which is more than a little inconvenient. But they're working on it (see reference here).
So we wait. We wait for our soldier egg. And we keep waiting.