Bittersweet

Last weekend, a friend of mine from HighSchool days had a baby girl.  They struggled for a long time before their miracle pregnancy (apparently there's some truth to the whole "coming off the pill whiplash" thing).  We haven't talked much during her pregnancy, though.  I said when I saw her 12w u/s "She has your chin"!  Turns out I was right with the gender prediction (they didn't find out until delivery).  I'm very happy for her, but again, sad for me.

Last night, a good friend had her baby.  This was a true miracle baby... after 2 years of trying, on a cycle that was med-free and right before moving on to IVF.  She's had a rough go of it, and I'm not sure she ever really 100% believed it was real (although there's no denying it now!)... and I felt bad for that, because I think part of her disbelief may have had something to do with me.  I was pregnant 2 weeks before her.  She was officially due mid-December, and I was due Dec. 1 (yup, tomorrow's going to suck).  Obviously, mind didn't stick.  We didn't talk much about her pregnancy, but we talked.  I went to her baby shower a few weeks ago (heck, I organized and shopped for a group gift... her happiness and good fortune mostly eclipsed my own sadness).  She had some health concerns that meant that she was told she'd be induced at 38 weeks... and she absolutely stunned me by saying that she was going to do her best not to have it happen on December 1st.  I told her she was silly, that some things are more important... but I was incredibly touched that she even thought of it.  We had some pretty frank discussions... I even told her that I want to meet him ASAP and I'll try not to drown him, but I can't promise not to cry.  She's awesome.

So last night her little boy made his appearance, and I honestly can't wait to meet him.  I already love this little guy, and I've never met him.  He's not a relative.  I hope I don't freak her out *laugh*

But it's still bittersweet.  I hope it'll get more sweet and less bitter as time goes by.

Congratulations S & G!!!

Now... off to look up a recipe for something I can make and bring that can make for an easy meal for them while they focus on little D.

A non-IF post

Ok... so this post has nothing to do with infertility, I just felt that I should post something here because it's been too long, and figured I'd make it this because I wanted it to be a little less 'public' (for all that this is a public blog).

So here goes.

Why do some people think that it's mature and acceptable to accuse someone of impropriety, or bad behaviour, or certain actions, by direct words or implications, and then take steps to ensure that person has no opportunity to address the accuser directly on the subject?

5 years ago, I was a member of an online forum.  There was a situation that I felt was silly.  On another forum, belonging to a friend, and with restricted membership (but sadly, not private at the time), I stated that I thought the situation was pathetic.  Not the people involved... the situation.  Well... it got reported back to the first forum as "Mums called all the members here pathetic".  I was also accused of doing things that I'd have to have been pretty farking stupid to do, and which were technically impossible.  And then I was banned, preventing me from defending myself from the slander.  Whatever, did I really want to be part of a group of people who'd believe the worst based on hearsay without looking to hear my side of the story?  Nope.  (now if only they'd stop talking about me... 5 years later *laugh*)

Anyway... while I don't miss the people who chose to bad-mouth me, the events do rankle.  So now I'm torn between pissed off and highly amused by events that came about yesterday.

I moderate a large online forum.  However, I've been taking a break from it for the past few weeks (as much as possible) because I have enough other stress in my life and don't need the petty behaviour that's been going on.  I mean, initially it was coming up to the end of October... then it was because I was being personally attacked (oddly enough, also accused of impropriety)... then it was just because I needed time away from silly arguments and wanted to see if the other moderators would step up or live up to the perception that there's only one active mod.

Unfortunately, I can't get away from it completely, because the email addy on file with them is the same one I have to check daily due to my job search.  So I see that I have private messages waiting for me, and I see the "notify moderator" messages going on and know what kind of pettiness is happening.  And that nobody else is stepping in.

Anyway.  Last night someone who was part of my friends list on facebook overstepped, and another member hit "notify moderator", so I know what was said.  But by the time I saw the message, she had been banned.  I have no idea who banned her.  I don't much care.  She was out of line and knew better.

Anyway, as part of a FB thread with several friends, I stated that I couldn't be sure why she was banned, but imagined it had to do with certain terms that she used.  And in her responses to me, the implication was made that I was blowing smoke and knew exactly why she'd been banned because I did it.  Nice.

But even better?  This same person then removed me as a friend.

1/  a note for people on message boards with a 'notify moderator' function.  Be aware that if you start using the feature a lot with the appearance of targetting one or two specific people, chances are decent that your own behaviour is also going to come under microscopic examination.  Particularly when there have been accusations of favouritism.

2/  Just because you remove someone as a friend, doesn't mean that they can't see your responses to a group thread they're already part of.

3/  It's fairly immature to make an accusation (direct or implied) and then dissallow for direct and private rebuttal.

4/  Do not make accusations or implications of impropriety about me and expect me to be ok with it.

5/  Believe me... If I banned you, I'd be more than happy to discuss why it was done and justify my actions or reverse them as appropriate based on that conversation.  I would own the action and would not say I didn't know the specifics if I had done it.

6/  I'm also happy to hold a grudge if I feel I've been maligned, abused, or treated badly.  People who undertake such actions are not worth my time and energy and will not be missed.

Ah... feels good to get that out.

A sad anniversary... and a new year

I posted the first part of this yesterday in a forum I frequent, so apologies to those who've already read it.  I wanted to record my thoughts here, too.

One year ago we got confirmation that we were
miscarrying after our first IVF. I was a basket case. Actually
collapsed in tears after the news (I always thought that was just
melodrama that you see on TV... apparently not). We had pinned so much
hope on the procedure. We had been so excited when we thought it had
worked. But one short week later to have that snatched away was
devastating. I miss our little boys so much (I can't say why I'm sure
that both implanted... or why I'm sure both were boys... but in my
heart, I'm sure).

So today I'm remembering, and honouring their
memory. The memory of the time we had with them. The memories of all
the 'firsts' we've missed this year.... first breaths, first cries,
first smiles, first steps, first summer, first autumn, first halloween.

I'm
choosing to take comfort in the fact that today is also the anniversary
of the loss of my paternal grandmother. One of the strongest women I've
ever known, with a wicked sense of humour, and a very grounded view of
life. The youngest 80-year-old I ever knew. And I trust that somewhere
she's taking care of her great-granchildren.

Unfortunately, the day continuted yesterday after I wrote that... and it got a lot less philosophical and a lot more raw.

My mother called... to remind me that it was the anniversary of my grandmother's death and I should call my father.  Thanks Mom... I actually remember that it's my grandparent's anniversary... why can't you remember that it's your grandchild's?  True, they never 'met' the ones we lost, but were they not excited at the prospect of being grandparents?  Were they not upset to have that prospect snatched away?  I guess not.

I spent the day trying to keep busy... it didn't work so well.  Several soggy interludes.  When D came home, we had some shared soggy time.  We snuggled the teddy bear we bought for them when we first knew I was pregnant.  We talked of how much we loved and missed the ones who didn't stay... the ones who never had a chance to live.  My sense of failure.  Wondered what we'd done to piss off the Universe so much.  Wondered if we'd ever have a child of our own to hold (he assures me that it WILL happen).

And how tired I am of picking up the pieces when all I want is to pick up our child. *sigh*

But... true Celt that I am... today begins a New Year.  A year that will not be devoid of painful reminders and days that plainly suck, but a year that will hopefully also contain days of pure joy, and I hope, the ability to rejoice in my friends' good luck without being sucked into our own bad luck.

I'm hoping for a karmic pay-out ;)

How hard can it really be?

So I got mail today.

An invoice.  From the clinic.  Telling me that the payment for annual embryo storage is "DUE NOW" (yes, in block caps.  Bold, too).

To Recap:  In October last year we did a fresh cycle.  We ended up with 4 embryos.  We transferred 2 and froze 2 (had I known then what I discovered at transfer of those 2, we would have asked for them to go to blast before freezing and probably wouldn't have ended up freezing any, but that's beside the point).  We paid $800 for freezing and 1 year of storage.

2 months later, in December, following the first miscarriage, we transferred the 2 remaining kidsicles.  No more frozen.

In March, we did another fresh cycle.  Ended up with 9.  We transferred 2, froze 6, and waited for the 9th to hit blast, which it didn't.  Again, we paid $800 for freezing an 1 year of storage.

So, we currently have 6 kidsicles 'on ice', but only since March.

And now, 7 months later, and approaching the anniversary of our first loss, we're being told that if we don't pay $275 immediately we need to tell them how to dispose of them??  WTF?!

How hard is it, really, to get the fucking paperwork right?

**update**
Just got off the phone with the accounts folks at the clinic (for whom I had left a rather upset voicemail).  They will follow up with the lab, but verified with my file that we DID pay in March and that we DID NOT have any frozen left from last October.

But the question remains... the lab would have known when they thawed the 2 in December that there were none left in that 'jar', so why did they leave the account open??  This shouldn't be allowed to happen.  I didn't need a reminder right now of the loss we suffered a year ago.  I didn't need a demand for money we don't have.

Happy October?

Yeah... it's a question.  This month has 2 sad milestones... our first transfer... and the loss of those embies.  Add to that poor D's day at work yesterday.  Ok, technically September, but it's something that's going to drag on for the next 2 weeks.

D sent me a text yesterday (as he often does when he's late leaving work)... and specifically asked for a hug.  Bad sign.  I met him at the door when he got home, and he just burst into tears.  Now, you have to understand, my boy doesn't cry.  He bottles.  But yesterday was an exceptionally bad day for him.  I'm not sure of the details (because he also doesn't talk), but what I did gather was this... yesterday he had to deal with a family who were angry because items had been removed (by cemetary staff) from the crypt of their 3-year-old child.  I'm sure you can imagine the emotion involved for the family.  Bad situation in the first place... worse situation when you throw in the emotionally charged atmosphere... and worse still when you factor in that 1 year ago we were doing our first fresh IVF cycle and were full of hope that would be trampled on a short time later.  D tries to hold it together for me, but I know he's had a rough year of it, too.  Not only with all of what we've been through, but in trying to be strong for me, and seeing me fall apart over and over again.

So, I'm going to try to make myself a promise.  I'm going to let myself be as miserable as I feel the need to be this month, but October 31st is New Year's Eve, in true Celtic fashion. But... I'm also not going to beat myself to a pulp if I slip... if I have a bad day... if I break down.

I have no doubt it's going to be difficult.  There are several friends who are due in the next few months.  Our own second due date looms on the horizon.  There will doubtless be more announcements. I still don't have a job.  We are facing the very real possibility of losing our home if I don't have one by the end of January.  But I'm going to try.  I've wallowed for a year.  I don't want to be the bitter infertile any more.

Wish me luck!

3 years

Happy Anniversary!

Oh wait... perhaps not so happy. As of today, we've been 3 years hoping and praying for a child to love. Yay us. And what's this I see on the horizon? AF... yep, Mother Nature, the bane of my existence seems to have decided to add insult to injury and show up today as an anniversary present. Wench.

Birthday Girl

Here we are. Another year older. Another year childless. A few more emotional scars. A lot more experiences that give me grounds to relate to even more people.

Here's hoping the next 12 months bring something wonderful into our lives.

I don't think I like me any more

I used to be pretty happy with the person I was. I used to think I was pretty well adjusted and able to cope with most things that life threw at me.

I don't think that any more. And I don't think I like me.

Why?

Over the weekend we visited my in-laws. Now, I love most of my in-laws. I think they're awesome. I'm especially fond of DH's aunt & uncle who are his godparents and their kids. We don't get to see them too often, but were lucky enough to see them this weekend. Their oldest daughter moved up North a couple of years ago and it was really hard on her mom... they were always close... and she married the boy next door (literally... her mom was looking forward to her still being right next door). Anyway, MIL told us a few weeks back that this daughter was pregnant. First kick. Her mother, understandably, is excited that her little girl is going to have a baby... but unfortunately that meant a lot of talk about it when we saw them. Second kick. They don't know we're having problems... I can't hold it against them. Then they launched into a story about their daughter's friend who lives in the same town up North... and is pregnant with #7. Yes, that's right. #7. She's my age. 7 kids. And we can't seem to have one.

Later that same evening the topic of another of DH's cousins came up. She's pregnant with #3. The two she has are hellions. She "nearly died" with #2 (MIL's words... I don't know the story, so I can't comment on the accuracy of that) and her doctor apparently told her she was not, under any circumstances, to have another. Obviously this is a mature and responsible person. So, she can have a 3rd, and we can't have one.

Bitter. Cynical. Jaded. Jealous. These are the words that best describe me these days. Not good.

Worse? I can no longer seem to summon up congratulations for people who got pregnant. At all. Regardless of how long it took them or what they went through.

I had a great little community I was a regular poster in. I just can't seem to bring myself to post there any more. Why? Because I don't feel like I belong any more. These women are moving forward. They're getting pregnant and moving on. They have hope. I have no hope any more. All I have is dispair and bad memories, and in incredible fear that all any further attempts will do is rack up more dead babies who never got a chance because of me.

I don't like that person. She's not very nice. She doesn't have anything to offer except a cautionary tale.

An Anniversary

One year ago today, D and I found ourselves at our clinic, fighting with our original RE's secretary about who had canceled our appointment. It sure as all hell wasn't us... why would we show up for an appointment we canceled? Oh right... we wouldn't.

In the end, our RE said she'd stay a little later to meet with us.

We were there to get the results of all our testing and to find out our diagnosis and prognosis.

One year ago today we were told that our only hope was IVF. Not drugs and timed intercourse. Not IUI. Not drugs and IUI. Straight to IVF.

It's been a crazy year since then. Trying to come to terms with the diagnosis of borderline motility with high DNA fragmentation (but good morphology, go fig). Coming to terms and moving forward. Having a cycle postponed due to a cyst. Going through medication, monitoring, retrieval and transfer. Getting the wonderful call... tempered with extreme caution. Miscarrying. Going through a frozen cycle. Getting the bad news of its failure on New Years Eve. Transferring to another RE when ours left the clinic... after much angst and debate. Trying another fresh cycle, throwing everything possible at us to maximize our chances. Getting a phone call telling us the result was negative when it was only inconclusive. Making it past the point where we lost the first... only to find out that we had lost these, as well but my body hadn't clued in. Seeing countless friends, family members, and co-workers achieve what we were apparently incapable of.

And then the crowing glory... losing my job and having to put everything on hold indefinitely. Again.

Grief. Angst. Heartbreak. Hope. Sadly, progressively less of the last and more of the previous.

Another significant date past. Next up... our birthdays. Another year with no child to share them with. Then the 3 year mark.

It's going to be a rough summer... hopefully I can at least find a job so we can get the ball rolling again. C'mon Fate... throw me a bone!

June 28th...

Yesterday sucked. Actually, the whole week sucked. Rather than looking forward to June 28th with excited anticipation, I was instead reminded of how my body has failed us.

To my little ones who left before we even had a chance to know you... I love you, babies. I always will. I miss you. I miss learning your personalities. I miss knowing your smiles. I miss seeing your first steps, first words, first teeth, first everything. First breath. Yesterday was your 'estimated due date'. Not a day has passed in the past week that I haven't shed tears for lost life, lost hope, lost dreams... my little lost children.

I love you. Always.

I am eternally glad for the true friends I've met and made through this journey. Friends who made damn sure I wasn't alone last night... who offered distraction, but also let me cry. You have helped me more than you will ever know. Because of you I haven't spiralled so far down that there's no hope of coming back... and because of you, I know that when I finally do come back there will be smiling faces waiting for me.

And, to my dear husband... you have saved me. I am so sorry it's been so hard for me to talk about this, even to you. I didn't want you to be dragged back down if you had managed to find peace. I should have known I could have leaned on you anyway, Hon... thank you for reminding me... for your strength, for your courage, for your comfort... for your love. You are the world to me... I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I hope this will be a turning point... that maybe now I can start on the road back to where I used to be. Back to hope. Back to letting myself dream for us. *hugs*

It's official... I'm a horrible person

Yep, that's right. I'm going to brutally honest... I'm horrible. Why do I say I'm a horrible person? Because so many of my friends who have struggled along with me are either currently pregnant or about to start IVF which will probably work... and although I'm thrilled for them to be "living the dream", I can't stop feeling abandoned and jealous and pissed off that we can't even try again until fall at the earliest (employment dependant). I'm a horrible person. I'm sorry, ladies. I don't want to feel this way. I want to just be purely happy for you... and lord knows I'm going to do my damndest to make sure I don't drag any of you down with me... I don't want you to feel awkward around me... I don't want you to not share the little happinesses with me... I just wish it was me.

Things aren't great right now. I'm wondering if I'm doomed to get positives but no babies for the rest of my life. I'm miserable because of being "laid off". I'm worried about my mom, who, in the space of a month broke her foot, and then fell off a ladder breaking a few ribs and her knee. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know where to turn. I have no idea what to do now. And I can't seem to stop crying.

Just for another kick in the teeth... a guy I was in gradeschool with who got married in January '07 just had his first kid (first grandchild for a woman who was like a second mom to me)... and I just discovered his brother (who got married last November) and his wife are expecting. Around November. A few weeks before we should have been having ours.

I'm sure it doesn't help that next Saturday was our EDD for our first loss.

So... there's your update. Not a great one, I'm afraid. *sigh*

I'm baaaaaaaack

Hi all.

I'm back from Alaska. Eventually I might post some pics. The trip was awesome.

Coming back sucked in more ways than one.

My second day back at work, I got laid off. Re-structured right out the door. After 10 years. No warning. No notice. Buh-bye.

So now I'm unemployed. This throws a bit of a wrench in the works. The original plan was to try a FET in June or July. The unemployment, however, means we'll have to postpone at least until I have another job, and probably until I've been there for 3 months (or however long probation is). I'd have to take time off around the transfer if I got a job. And if I didn't have a job yet when we did the transfer Murphy says it'd work, which then makes me a poor candidate for employment, I'm thinking.

Damn.

3!

Yup... finally got the call at about 4 p.m. yesterday from the clinic with yesterday's beta results. 3. It's finally over. And as an added bonus, the bleeding seems to have finally stopped!

I know, it's bad that I'm happy with that news, and don't get me wrong... I'm still very sad about the loss of our children... but being trapped in limbo really sucked and I'm glad that we can finally move on and start to heal.

So now we think and discuss... when do we try again with an FET? Do we try on my next cycle? Do we hold off a few months? So many questions.

Luckily, we've got a whole week in the Great White Northwest to ponder and discuss and try to figure it out. We head to the airport tonight (staying at the hotel there) for our flight tomorrow morning... and by dinner time tomorrow we'll be in Alaska. I say by dinnertime we'll be in Alaska rather than on the ship because our flight is due into Anchorage at 2:30 p.m. But that's going to feel like 6:30 (dinner-time) to us. Then it's another 90 minutes or so to the port to check in and go through all the rigemarole to get on-board. And then we wait for our luggage... which will probably be late because it's being processed in the forward hold, and we were just moved to an aft cabin. Such fun!

BUT WE'RE GOING TO ALASKA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :)

Have a great week...

Yesterday kinda sucked.

Yup... yesterday kinda sucked. Although, I think the build-up was worse than the day ended up being.

I've spent the past couple of weeks crying every time I saw or heard an ad for Mother's Day. Couldn't deal. Not even a little.

In a way, I was lucky yesterday. My mother is currently in China on vacation (and thankfully unaffected by the earthquake they had!)... so a quick text message on Saturday evening (which was Sunday morning for them) sufficed. I plan to buy a nice bouquet to greet her when they get home on Friday night. Ma-in-law is currently on the road with Pa-in-law driving out to Vancouver to hop a plane to Anchorage to take the same cruise we're heading out for on Saturday. D sent her an email (I'm assuming... I left it up to him). So there was no festivities to try to wriggle out of. D himself was summoned to work, so there was no chance of 'forgetting' and finding ourselves in a crowded restaurant surrounded by happy families.

I decided the best way for me to deal with the day was to pretend it wasn't happening. Probably not the healthiest, I realize. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy for all my friends and aquaintances who had reason to celebrate yesterday... I just didn't feel much like celebrating.

So I had a nice relaxing shower, noted happily that the m/c fall-out seems to be tapering off, painted my nails for the first time in about 3 years (black... like my soul ;) ), and dove head-first into some much needed cleaning in the house. By the time D got home, I BBQ'd dinner, and we parked ourselves in front of the idiot box for the Survivor finale (what a train wreck!) I was exhausted and nearly all the Mother's Day ads were gone from the airwaves.

And today is another day. A day that is happy for having muddled through yesterday. A day that is happy for having finally gotten around to a much needed under-garment fitting session (good grief was I ever wearing the wrong size... by far!!! Thank god the place I went isn't much more expensive than a department store). A day that is happy for having seen a Peregrine Falcon and a pair of Swans flying over my train station this morning (yes... actual wildlife in what is still technically the city! ;) ). A day that is one step closer to a very much needed vacation.

Hope all my bloggy friends are keeping well! And that those who celebrated yesterday had wonderful days!

Another week down... and still not done

So... the good news of the day is that the clinic blood tech managed to find a vein in my arm this morning! Unfortunately, my GP's blood tech was not so lucky 2 hours later and I ended up with a punctured hand anyway ;)

Yup... two blood draws today. The first was yet another beta... the second was to check my thyroid function.

For the beta, today's result was 65 (down a little less than 500)... I go back in a week and hope to hell it's not stalling.

The thyroid was at my request. Why? Well, when I went to the hospital to have the methotrexate, they took my temp... it seemed kind of low for me (I generally run a post-O basal temp of 36.6... it was 36.2... since I was still technically pregnant at that point, and had been up and about for several hours by then, I would have expected it to be at least 36.6. Of course, I haven't remembered to actually take my temp on waking in the 2.5 weeks since to check)... and since it's been a year (give or take a month or so) since my last check, I asked to have it checked before getting a scrip renewal. Of course, Dr. Know-it-all-but-can't-give-a-decent-level-of-care looked at the previous 2.5 years of tests and said that he expects it'll be in range, so he'd rather just write the scrip and call me if the results come back out of whack. What??? You mean you DON'T want to bill the provincial health care folks for another visit for no good reason??? Are you feeling ok? That's so unlike you! But... I took the scrip ;) Then headed off to their lab to have my blood drawn to check it anyway. Of course, the guy 4 ahead of me had passed out, so there was a backlog and delay... guess it's a good thing that my appointment was short and ahead of schedule in starting :)

So... still waiting, just waiting on more, now. Still bleeding, but it's been a different "character" of bleed for the past couple of days. More like a regular period. I'm choosing to take that as a good sign. I just want it to be over by next Thursday so I don't have to devote precious suitcase space to FHPs (Feminine Hygeine Products... D hates the term, and would rather be cryptic about these things, so... FHPs).

Here's hoping!

Mixed feelings

Had another beta this morning (I've lost count). Took them 10 minutes to find a vein in my hand (yes... 10 minutes, and they didn't even look in my arm). Hurt like none of them have every hurt before, too. Le Sigh.

But... the number today was 539. That's down 1510 from Tuesday, which was down just under 1000 from the previous Thursday.

I go back again in 5 - 7 days (whenever works for me).

I have mixed feelings about this. I mean, yes, it's good that the drugs did what they were supposed to do... but it's still a falling number... a miscarriage... another lost child.

It hurts to think about. It hurts more than usual at the moment because next Sunday is Mother's Day. I thought I'd be 7.5 months for Mother's Day. Nope. I thought I'd be about 11 weeks for Mother's Day. Nope on that score too. And D has been told by his employer that he's working next Sunday (in addition to Saturday). I guess they figure he doesn't have kids so he won't mind. I hate that about his employers.... if you don't have kids, you don't have a family. I need him.... precisely BECAUSE we don't have kids. But they'll never understand.

On the up side, if I'm lucky, next week's beta will be the last... and hopefully things will be back to "relatively normal" before we go on vacation (the 17th).

The non-update

I'd love to be able to post an update saying my hCG dropped or that I have to go for a second dose... but sadly, the freakin' clinic never called me yesterday with the stupid freakin' results, so I have no update to share.

Still spotting really really lightly. So, 36 hours of light bleeding and other than that it's just been spotting for a week and a half before & after those 36 hours.

I'm getting really tired of being in limbo... the wallpaper sucks.

Are we there yet?

Ah yes... the roller-coaster ride continues.

TMI alert. This will be pretty graphic and may offend more sensitive readers. You've been warned.

Got up yesterday morning and discovered that after days and days of intermittent light spotting (by 'light' I mean it never made it to a liner) there was finally a sign that the methotrexate had kicked in (or perhaps that the progesterone had left the building... or maybe a combination of the two). Bad cramps.

So, after sending my manager an email saying I would be working from home, I headed off to the clinic for my first follow-up beta. Many cramps. Much blood. At least they only had to poke me once to get their sample.

Drove home. Got home and made a mad dash to the washroom to find that the 'gush' I had felt had accompanied some large clots (well, I had just spent 45 minutes sitting in my car... preceded by 45 minutes sitting in my car, effectively... since it was about 15 minutes from the time I got my parking ticket to the time I left the parking garage and that includes the walk from WCH to the clinic, the blood draw, and the walk back) and some grey matter. I'm glad I was home when that happened. It wasn't a surprise to me this time (not like in October when I saw that and freaked)... it did look significantly different from October. Back then, it looked like a ruptured sack. This looked more like a short section of thin grey rope. (I did warn you it would be graphic and TMI)

Once that had passed, everything got lighter. The bleeding got lighter. The cramps got less and weren't constant. Of course, I also developed a headache, but I think that's a fair trade off.

But... to keep things interesting, I got my call in the afternoon from the clinic with my beta results:

nurse: "I'm calling from Dr. L's office. I have your results. It looks good, the numbers are up again to just under 3,000" (bear in mind, 6 days previously the number had been 1980 and since then I had had the stupid methotrexate injections)
me: "But it's not supposed to be up. I had methotrexate last Saturday."
nurse: {pause} "oh. Well, then we'll just stick with the plan Dr. L laid out and you'll come back in about 5 days for another test. You know, it's not unusual for the number to go up before it comes down again."
me: Yes... but that's why they wait 4 - 6 days before the first follow-up, isn't it?? "Fine, ok... so that's what, Tuesday?"

Yup... still no clue what's going on with that, and it'll be at least Tuesday before I know if they want me to go for another shot or have another u/s or what. Blah. Sucks. Just plain sucks.

And, in addition to all this fun, I've been having cramps in my thighs in the evenings since Sunday (both quads and hamstrings), I've got a blinding headache that comes and goes (but when it shows up it's literally blinding), and my ankles are swollen. My ankles don't swell. I've been on 8 hour flights and not had my ankles swell... my hand, yes, but not my ankles. No other part of me is swollen, just my ankles. Le Sigh.

So... that's the current update. I don't expect there will be much to say until Tuesday, but I might surprise us all ;)

What the....?

Dear Mother Nature,

I realize you have a lot to do every day, but could you please stop toying with me for your own twisted enjoyment?

Thanks
-->Mums_the_Word

So... yesterday afternoon (around 3:00 p.m.) I started spotting. Pink. Good sign, I figure. Several hours later.... still spotting. Awesome, maybe things are going to start moving and I can get some closure. Several hours later... no big dramatic moment, but still spotting. Noon today... no more spotting. None. Not even a little. Not even a faint hint of colour. Nothing.

STOP PLAYING MIND GAMES WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, just had to get that out of my system.

And now I can move on to feeling bad because a co-worker just asked me flat-out if I was off at the end of last week because I'm pregnant and I answered (just as flat-out) that no, I was off because of a miscarriage... the second in 6 months. Poor girl didn't know what to do with herself. And of course, that led to feelings of remorse for being so blunt.

But on the other hand... who the hell asks that question bluntly any more? Bah.

Call me Snoopy

Oh yeah... when we were in one of our many 'waiting' phases on Saturday, we happened to be left alone with my file... so I snooped for specs on our embies.

We transferred 1 8-cell and 1 9-cell... both grade 1 (top of the line).

We have 2 8-cell grade 1's frozen, along with 4 5-6 cell grade 1's. I'm a little concerned about the 5-6 cell ones... isn't that kinda small for having had 3 days to grow before freezing? Does that mean we really only have 1 more realistic kick at the can here?

Dang. Maybe I should have kept my nose out and just asked the doc... be something about having to tell him every frickin' time that I miscarried in October, too (sometimes I have to tell him more than once in a session... hell, I had to tell him at our transfer, in spite of it being written at the top of the page he was looking at!!) just makes me think he might be a little too distracted to give me a straight answer. Le Sigh.

Still waiting...

I was given the impression that after this stupid shot (well, ok, shots since there's so much of me) that things would get moving pretty darn quick.

Well, fatigue, muscle weakness, and dizzy spells all hit pretty quickly (and intermittently... I'm not sure it's entirely the meds). And there's been some cramping, but other than that, Mother Nature is just insisting on toying with me.

The shots were administered at roughly 1:20 Saturday afternoon. Yesterday morning I had some fairly significant spotting first thing in the morning (a nice dark pink). It gave me hope that the end might be in sight. But no. It had vanished within the hour. The barest brown streak first thing this morning... it too has gone back into hiding.

I just want this over, now. I'm tired of being held in limbo. I just want to be able to move on. To pick up the pieces, put them back together, get out the duct tape to hold them together, and get started on trying to heal. But can I? No. Because Mother Nature doesn't seem to think it's bad enough making me feel like I'm actively killing our kids this time around (yes, the logical part of my brain knows that there wasn't anything to kill by the time I got the shots... but logic has no place in my reality at the moment).... no, she feels the need to taunt me, to torment me with floods of CM, but nothing that might give me the start of closure.

And, of course, it's also leading me to stray down paths of thought best avoided. Like "what if the beta on Thursday is still up?" or "what if this doesn't work... I mean, it's supposed to act on 'fast multiplying cells'... except that if anything, the mass in my tube was shrinking, not growing, so there AREN'T any fast multiplying cells"

I'm back at work today, and still unable to focus, because I'm still in limbo, just like the first part of last week... just like the last 2 weeks.

Excuse me while I run down the hall screaming.

Waiting

Today, much like the rest of the past 2 weeks, was all about waiting.

We got up and had breakfast before heading out at about 7:15 to head to the clinic. Got there at 8:00. Waited for bloodwork. Waited for them to find a vein. Waited for them to find another vein because the first one collapsed.

Waited to see the doc.

Waited for an u/s. Nothing in the uterus today, apparently. Mass in the tube has not grown... if anything, it shrank slightly. Diameter roughly 1 cm. No fetal pole, no heartbeat. Teeny tiny hope that the toxic drugs might not be necessary... I mean, if it's not growing, the risk of rupture is practically non-existant, right?

Beta results weren't ready yet, so... you guessed it... waited until the beta results came back.

9:30-ish, back in the u/s room with the doc. Beta number rose about 50% from Thursday. Not a good sign. Doc ordered methotrexate. Called over to the local ER to let them know we were coming.

Waited while the doc tried to find something official looking to write a 'nutshell' version of our situation.

Headed over to the ER.

Waited for a triage nurse. Waited while they took temp (36.2... a little low for me, I usually run closer to 36.6... I should probably get my thyroid checked again). Waited while they took my blood pressure (a little high... not really surprising, though... "White Coat Syndrome" plus, you know, having to get toxic drugs).

Waited while they created a file for me.

Waited in the ER in "the red chair" (no kidding... it's a red chair... has a sign on the wall directing people to "the red chair", even). Waited while they took blood. First poke, no go... needle was too big. Second poke, no go... vein collapsed. Third poke (in the hand, near where buddy collapsed the first vein this morning)... BINGO! We have 4 vials! (what they checked, I'm not sure. CBC, I imagine... I was told kidney & liver function).

The joy of being weighed and measured (I felt like a prize catch). Thankfully, they weighed me in kg, so I have no idea what hideous number came back. I'm a big girl... tall, and not likely to blow away in a strong wind. Essential numbers for getting the "right" dose, though.

Went down the hall to change into a hospital gown and... yep... wait. First gown only had one sleeve. Sent D down the hall to ask for another gown. Changed. Waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Eventually the gyne on call showed up. Again, another person who had no clue who we were (I'm so glad the doc called ahead to say we were coming... I just wish I knew who he called, because nobody we encountered knew who we were). She was in the room all of about 90 seconds. Long enough to say "you know why we're giving you this injection, right?" and to answer a quick question about the location of a vending machine or other source of food (it was after noon... breakfast was a long time ago and D's tummy was talking... loudly ;) ). She said she'd double check with my RE about follow-up (whether the clinic would do it, or the hospital) and order the shot from the pharmacy.

D went off to find food. I waited. He eventually came back with 2 chocolate bars. Surprisingly, one of them was an Oh! Henry... I didn't expect to find peanuts for sale in a hospital. Oh well.

We waited. And waited.

Shortly before 1:30 (having gotten to the hospital at 10:00 I suppose that wasn't bad, all things considered), a nurse showed up and poked me in the butt... once on each side. Bringing the total number of punctures for the day to 7 (right arm twice, right hand twice, left hand once, each butt cheek once).

And now we wait again... for the drugs to work their toxic magic and end this roller-coaster ride.

Cautions: no aspirin, no advil, no folic acid or folate. Increase red meat/iron intake. Expect heavy bleeding (come back in if changing pad more than every 30 minutes). Expect pain and cramping. Return to the clinic Thursday for another beta to see if it's dropping. Then likely once a week until 0.


Waiting Sucks.

Why?

Why... the question that keeps coming back.

Why did this happen? We did everything except put me on bedrest for 3 months to stack the deck in our favour. And yet, now we're sitting at 3 strikes. 6 dead embryos.

What's to say that we won't go through the same heartache with the kid-sicles? Nothing. So why should we bother? Because we have to.

Why are they thinking a possible ectopic? How is it possible? Because I'm a freak when it comes to most things medical. Ok, yeah... so ectopics with IVF are fairly rare (more common than regular, perhaps, but still only about 5%)... and IVF ectopics in the upper tube are damn near impossible. But that's what they think they're seeing.

Why?

Why does this keep happening?

Why do we keep losing our children?

Why do we have to go through so much just to end up heartbroken?

Why can't this just be as easy as it is for the folks who try for 6 months (OMG... it's been 6 months... this is taking forever! Don't go there)

Why can't I have the joy of going through a pregnancy a the same time as my friends?

Why do I have to deal with the anguish of conflicting feelings and causing friends discomfort because they managed to keep their children while I lost mine? I don't begrudge them their success... I revel in it... it gives me hope. But it stings at the same time. Why does the joy have to be tainted?

It all keeps coming back to "why".

But... DH and I are doing a bit better today than yesterday... and several bits better than we were on Tuesday when we first got the suggestion of bad news. And day by day things will get better... less raw... and eventually we'll pull through and move on and probably try again. Which is sad on a whole other level that I hope nobody reading this ever has to understand.

We're fighters. We're strong. We'll pull through. We'll have a few more scars, but scar tissue is tough, and at the rate we're going in our lives we'll be damn near invulnerable soon *wry smile*.

I might be quiet for a bit. We're doing things a little out of order, but I think we're through depression and denial (mostly) and are firmly seated in anger... there's no bargaining to be done, so once the anger has passed, we should be on to acceptance... or as close to acceptance as anyone who's lost a child can ever get.

Dark Days

beta #9: 1310 (last one, 2 days ago, was 1267)
"abnormal sac" in the uterus
"mass" at the ovary end of my right tube (which the doc doesn't understand at all, since this was an IVF pregnancy)

I go back again on Saturday to see if the beta levels start to fall on their own or if I get to experience the joy of methotrexate.

Why can't I just die and end this misery of killing our children two by two?

And here I thought we'd have some answers...

So.... went for the u/s this morning.

U/S tech says: ectopic (high in the right tube)
Doc says: no bleeding, no pain, too high for an IVF ectopic, that doesn't make any sense... but this here in the uterus might be a gestational sac, so it might be a missed miscarriage. But it's good news that you got pregnant. (really? I'm supposed to be happy that I'm looking at my second miscarriage in 6 months?)
DH says: Medical anomaly, just like everything else to deal with either of our healths.
I say: Stop the world, please, I want to get off.

So... we did another beta and we see what that says, and I go back again on Thursday.

Right now, I feel thoroughly beat up inside, emotionally, and physically (good god they were rough with that u/s wand... TWICE!)

Please excuse the bitter tone... it's just because I'm bitter.

Update: So.. the beta came back 1267. The nurse who called with the results said the doc wants me to do another beta on Thursday, but when I asked if he still wants to see me Thursday too, she said no.

I hate this. I don't know what's going on and I can't get a simple answer. It doesn't help that I seem to be confusing "the experts". Do I see the doc on Thursday anyway? Do I go for an u/s on Thursday anyway? Do I see the doc, but not sign up for an u/s and see what he says? Do I wait for the beta results and go from there? My mind's going a zillion directions at once... I feel like I'm spinning out of control and headed for disaster. :( Right now I'm just praying that it's not ectopic and hopefully I can get through the worst case scenario without drugs.

Limbo...

So... today is a limbo day. No bloodwork scheduled. Not time for the u/s yet. But someone's definitely trying to send me signs.

Yesterday was a revisiting day. As in, everything I ate revisited at least a little. Blah. Burping like crazy... and lots of burps with 'prizes'... but I managed to not puke. The 'prizes' started overnight on Saturday night, when one actually woke me up and set me scrambling for the "puke bucket" that DH was kind enough to put beside the bet "just in case".

Last night... yet another dream about our child. No sign of the babe in person, but yet another reference to a little girl. Oddly enough, in a card from my paternal grandmother who's been dead for over 11 years (actually, the first miscarriage was confirmed on the 11th anniversary of her death). Very odd. DH has taken to asking me first thing in the morning if I've had another baby dream... this is 4 nights running... and all of them indicate a girl. I think he's laughing at me. I, on the other hand, am starting to get a little freaked out by it... I blame my wacky Irish blood and a maternal side of the family rife with strange co-incidences, visions, and the like. Here's hoping it's all good signs.

This morning I woke up and felt decent, in spite of having been awake for a half hour at about 1:15 a.m.... until I rolled over and immediately had to roll back and dive for the bucket. Le Sigh. No spew, thankfully, but it was touch and go for a while. Even once it passed I discovered I had to stay verticle or things took a turn back again (my poor cat looked so confused 'cuz I bent over to kiss his head as I normally do in the morning and immediately shot right back up again and made some very odd noises... and he didn't get his peck on the head... likewise putting on socks went badly on the first attempt).

I'm nervous about tomorrow morning. I mean, I'm excited because it SHOULD give us some indication of what's going on, which'll be nice for the brain... but I'm nervous that it won't show us what we hope... that it'll show some kind of problem. Yup... still paranoid.

Colour me confused

Ok... so Friday sucked. No question. Number only climbed 94 points in 4 days. Not a good sign, we figured.

So... we expected bad news from this morning's beta and did our best to prepare for the worst. This was NOT helped by a sudden increase in my symptoms (sore boobs, queasiness, heartburn, fatigue, forgetfulness, interrupted sleep, thirst, waking up in the middle of the night feeling like I'm going to hurl...) or 2 more nights of dreams involving a small person belonging to us (more on that in a minute).

So... up this morning bright and early and off to the clinic we went. And then we waited. And waited. And I think DH now has a greater appreciation of the insanity that has been my life every other beta day. Today's result? 1019. OK... still not doubling, but a hell of a lot better than climbing 94... that's 224, I think (If my math is right... which it might not be). So now I'm just confused.

We've got an u/s on Tuesday morning (7w), which will hopefully make things clearer.

Ok... about these dreams. So, Thursday night as I think I mentioned I had a dream where I had a cesarean... and a little girl, contrary to my waking instincts. Well, Friday night I had another dream... our baby was being hooked up to all kinds of monitors in a hospital and there was some concern. Suddenly there was a heartbeat (115) and all was good. Again... a little girl. Last night we were at a party with a toddler who seemed to belong to su... again, a little girl. I'm starting to see a theme.....

So now we wait... and drive ourselves nuts... and hope against hope that Tuesday makes things clearer AND brings good news.

Let the madness begin…

Dreams, that is.

Last night I had a cesarean. Never mind that I’m only 6.5 weeks pregnant, last night my brain told me I was having a cesarean.

So when I woke up, I told D. His reaction? “Huh. Interesting. Boy or Girl?”

Not quite what I expected. But… girl. Which is doubly odd because every instinct I have is telling me this is a boy. Of course, the “yeah, but…” side of me is screaming at me that that probably guarantees it’ll be a girl, ‘cuz look how right I haven’t been about anything else *laugh*

And then there’s the “where did I leave my brain and why did I forget to pack it this morning” moments.

Like this one. My darling hubby is at home today. I got email from him. It was not from his work email account. It was not a continuation of the email chain from yesterday. When I left the house this morning, I left him curled up in a nice warm comfy bed, snoozing gently. So what do I ask him? Did he get wet on the walk from the car to the office. I’m an idiot. There was no walk from the car to the office… he’s at home. The email addy, subject line, and remembering the sleeping hubby should have clued me in to that, but nope… completely forgot it.

I'll update this afternoon with the results of Beta #6. Right now I'm nursing the holes in the backs of both hands (yes... both hands. Obviously the ease with which they've managed to retrieve the last 3 samples was a fluke and we're back to 'normal' now) and waiting for the phone to ring.

UPDATE: Not good. 795. That's up 94 in 4 days... so far from double, I don't even want to contemplate it. I have to go back on Sunday. Please, please, please, please, please let it be a fluke. Please don't let me lose this one too. Please?

Ultrasound envy...

So. I'm part of an online forum for all things baby-related (from just thinking about starting to try right through to school age). So, I chatter with gals at the same stage as me, as well as women who've been there, and women who've yet to get there. There's a group for gals with due dates in a particular month. We chatter about symptoms (what few there are yet) and plans and such.

Well... first I was experiencing beta number jealousy because everyone else's numbers were so much higher than mine. Now I've moved on to Ultrasound Envy.

Why?

Let's see... I have a friend who's beta number just quadrupled on her third beta... she's got her viability/dating ultrasound booked. About a half-dozen others who're having viability/dating ultrasounds had 2 betas and then got booked for their ultrasound.

Me? I'm looking at beta #6 tomorrow and still no mention of an ultrasound. I'm hoping when they call with tomorrow's number it'll include info about an u/s. If not, I might just have to throw a spoiled-small-child-type hissy fit! *laugh* The only thing I can think of is that it's because my numbers were on the low end and my doubling rate slowed down. Either that or they think I'm a week earlier than I am (glorious thing about IVF... I know exactly when I got pregnant... 'cuz there was an audience!)... I say that because my friend, at 4w5d has a number that I didn't get until about 5w6d. Le Sigh.

Ah well... ranting now is moot. I guess we'll see what the next 24 hours or so bring (and please, please, please let them call me early tomorrow and not make me wait 'til 3:00!)

6w1d

Odd... apparently 6w was a mini milestone for me that I wasn't even aware of. Having managed to get through yesterday without any spotting (although I'm still checking every time I go to the washroom like a paranoid freak :p ), it's like someone flipped the 'excitement' switch in my head.

Not that I'm not still paranoid (see previous spotting checking). Not that there isn't still a voice in my head saying "Don't get your hopes up... you're not out of the woods yet!". But yesterday evening and today I'm actually starting to get a bit excited about this prospective parenthood thing.

Now if only I had a clue when they'd bring me in for a viability & placement ultrasound!

I've got another beta on Friday morning... I'm hoping it'll be over 1400 and I'm also hoping that at that point they'll tell me "come in for an u/s on this date". I'd really like to get at least Goal #2 under my belt before I relax too much!

In other news... DH and I are hoping to go to the "Baby Time" show on Sunday here in T.O.... we've been wanting to get to this show for the past 2 years and something always comes up (in fall it was our post-miscarriage trip to St. Lucia that got in the way... in retrospect, I almost think the show might have been the lesser of two evils there *laugh*)... but now we're pregnant (admittedly barely) and don't have other plans already for the weekend (other than him working on Saturday)... and the November show might be pushing our luck, so we're going.

Also... morning sickness hasn't really kicked in... and I'm hoping it doesn't (oh to be the lucky 15% for something!). That said, I did have wicked heart burn last night (note to self...no more super-greasy pizza... stick to the moderately greasy ones! ;) ) and had a moment of nearly spewing. Not fun.

And... fatigue. Oh. My. Gawd. I don't sleep in public. I don't sleep on buses, on trains, on planes... I just don't do it. It's a mental block, or a control freak side-effect or something. Well, yesterday I fell asleep on the train twice on the way TO work... twice on the way HOME from work... and 3 times this morning on the way in. And I'm battling the sleepies at my desk right now. This I could do without.

I'm routinely drinking about 3L of water during the day these days. Which of course means I'm making bathroom runs every 20 minutes.

And I have a craving for... of all things... Coke. I used to drink a couple of cokes a day. Brought it down to at most 1 per day once we were at the clinic. Cut it out entirely during all our procedures. Haven't had one since early February... but for the last week I've been craving one. Bad. Very bad. Lots of chemicals and evil caffeine. Bad. Must resist. Maybe I'll cave on the hankering for grilled cheese and poutine and see if that helps? *laugh*

Good grief... only 6 weeks in and already I'm losing my mind ;) But... almost half-way through the first trimester... which means almost half-way to "relax and enjoy this for a few months", right?

Slowing down, but still climbing

Today was beta #5: 701.

This was a little disappointing, and caused me a minute or two of worry until I worked out the doubling rate (well, ok... I went to the calculators at allaboutsurrogacy.com and had them work out the double rate ;) )... 62.3 hours. So although considerably slower than the original 28.4 hours, or even last time's 33 hours, it's still in the 48-72 hour window that's considered "ideal". Still... it's also below what the folks in the know say the minimum should be for 6w (which is tomorrow)... which apparently should be 1080.

So... I get to go for beta #6 on Friday. And spend the rest of the week the way I've spent every day since March 28th... checking for spotting every time I trek to the bathroom and hoping like crazy that this works out. Le Sigh.

On the up side, we told DH's parents on Friday night. Very cute. We had bought these towels way back when we thought we might be able to do a surprise announcement (read, about 2 years ago when we were still in our first year of trying and not nearly as cynical ;) )... they're like a cross between an apron and a towel, so you can stay relatively splash-free while bathing the little one and then not have to fuss so much trying to get them wrapped up after the bath. Anyway, so they've been sitting gathering dust for 2 years... we brought one with us on Friday night. Ma-in-law asked D "So what's new, different, or exciting?", as usual. D threw her the towel. Which has the company name on it (something like babywrapperz). So she looked at the towel, looked at DH, looked at the towel, looked at pa-in-law, looked at DH and said "Is this an announcement?" And then promptly banned me from doing anything to help with anything all weekend *laugh* I was banned from helping set tables or prepare meals... basically I was confined to the couch unless I was sitting at the dinner table, in bed, or running to/from the bathroom. I'm not used to that... it rankled a bit... but I know she means well because she knows what we've been through to get here.

So... now we wait... and see what Friday brings, I guess.

5w3d...

Here we are... the day it all went wrong last time. It's a very odd day.

Parts of me are feeling far more positive than I expected... I'm almost getting a glimmer of 'excited'. But parts of me are also prompting me to check for spotting every 20 minutes.

It probably doesn't help that we're going out to see the in-laws tonight to let them in on our little secret. It's almost as if part of my brain thinks that'll jinx us.

Bah. There are days I really hate being insane ;)

Beta #4 - 5w2d

The good news and then the paranoia, I think....

Today's beta: 241. For those of you keeping track that's triple, triple, and less than triple, but more than double. Or a doubling rate of 28.4, 30, and now 33. So it's slowing down, but still "better" than the "48 - 72 hours" that the folks in the know look for.

Next beta: Monday. Apparently the clinic are happy enough with these numbers (even though they're pretty darn low) to feel safe not having me back in 48 hours, but waiting 96 instead.

Target for Monday's beta: at least 964.. oh yeah, and not having to go back early

which brings me nicely to... the paranoia.

Last time the numbers went triple, triple, double... then they said "Come back in 4 days" and I ended up back there 2 days later because of spotting (at 5w3d and 5w4d) and the number had plummeted. This is all feeling a little too familiar for me to be comfortable and complacent yet. I hate that... this is supposed to be the time when I'm deleriously happy, not nervous beyond words and trapped in bad memories. Le Sigh.

But... not a whole lot I can do either way, other than take it easy and not be too stupid. So... we're off to visit D's parents for the weekend and let them know that we did another round of IVF (yes, that's right... they don't know. After the frequent questions with our FET, and the m/c before that, D didn't want to tell them and have to deal with questions and comments again).... and that it worked... so far.

And now I get to bite my nails for another 4 days *laugh*

Tripling???

So... finally at 3:00 p.m. my clinic got around to calling me with the results of this morning's beta.

But before I get into that, on a slight tangent and as an illustration of how insane and paranoid I am, I'd like to share a story of how my day started today.

Today is 5w, officially. Today was beta #3. Because I'm paranoid (and a little curious), I decided I'd test this morning... so I pulled out what we lovingly call "an internet cheapie" (the low-rent cousin of the pregnancy test you pay $13+ for at the drug store.. it's stripped down... it costs about $0.40 if you buy it online from somewhere like saveontests.com ... hence... internet cheapie). Peed in a cup ('cuz my aim sucks at 5:00 a.m. and peeing on my hands is not a nice way to start the day)... dipped according to the instructions... waited. And waited. And waited... and no second line. Cue start of panic. Cue made dive for the last of the 'good' tests (thank goodness for 2-packs!)... cue dipping of test #2... cue beautiful plus-sign in less than 60 seconds. Cue relief. Note to self: never expect an accurate result from the low-rent cousin of any test. But I'm awake now!

So... off I trek to the clinic. Get called in by the blood tech... much poking and prodding of elbows... still ended up getting the blood drawn from the back of my hand. Now I've got bruises on the back of both of them and another blood draw on Thursday morning... should be entertaining.

Anyway... the results. 88. That's roughly triple what Sunday's result was... which was roughly triple what Friday's result was. So I'm seeing tripling where they look for doubling... I guess someone's trying to make up for lost ground with the low start? ;)

Here's hoping Thursday's higher again... and getting past Friday means passing Goal #1, so we'll keep our fingers crossed for that, while I try to get through this week without losing my mind.

You know what'd be nice?

It'd be really nice to not be scared stiff. It'd be really nice not to have to wait for hours after every clinic session to know if the numbers go up or down. It'd be really nice to just be able to return to the days of innocence lost, to live in the happy ignorance of those women who have had no problems getting pregnant, and no reason to think they will have any difficulty staying pregnant.

Alas, it's not to be. Today is technically 4w6d. We lost the last one at 5w3d, so I'm going to be a basket case at least until Friday. That's goal #1... hang on to this beyond 5w3d. Goal #2 is to hold on until the hCG number is high enough for an early u/s. Goal #3 is to make it to T2.

Impeding easy progress to these goals? First of all, blood work. Dragging myself into a clinic that seems to be increasingly overrun with small children to have a blood tech poke and prod at me for 10 or 15 minutes trying to find a vein (at all... one that won't collapse is then the second challenge)... heading in to work... trying to focus while I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait until my phone rings with a "private number"... then trying to ask the questions I want/need to ask knowing full well that my entire side of the conversation can be heard by anyone nearby (there's no semblance of privacy here). Then waiting to repeat it all over again 2 days later, hopefully.

Next impediment... well, the numbers starting out so darn low. I know, I know... it's not the number, it's the doubling that matters. And that seems to be off to a rip-roaring start. Seems to be. But I can't help remember last time, when the numbers tripled, tripled, then merely doubled, and then dropped.

A nice little memory wipe... that's what I need. Restore those happy days of yore when I believed that nothing in the world was easier than procreating.

Bah... I think it's going to be one of those weeks. You know the ones... when you try so hard to focus on the positive, but the more you try to focus on the positive, the more the negative seems to obscure it? Forgive my ramblings... I just need to let it out. It's a frustration thing.

You know what else sucks? Knowing that so many friends who've travelled this road before and with me will be caused pain by this sticking. Sure... they might be happy for me. Hell, I've had so many people tell me I "deserve" this to work (I'm no more deserving than anyone else, and a heck of a lot less 'deserving' than some)... people I didn't even know knew my story. Anyway, they might be happy for me, but there's a tarnish on the glow... I know it stings at the very least. And yes, it might grow to be hope because it shows that it can work... but that'll be a ways down the road. I know this, 'cuz I've been there. I've felt the sting... and then felt horrible for being stung by the success of another woman on this road.

I don't want to cause that kind of conflict and pain in anyone else.

A little bit more...

Today's beta number was much better.... 29. More than triple Friday's... that's a doubling rate of 28.4 hours.

For anyone who might be reading and has no idea what I'm talking about... the quantitative blood pregnancy test is a beta hCG test (beta, for short)... they test to see how much hCG is present. For a viable pregnancy (not miscarrying and not ectopic), they look for this number to roughly double every 48-72 hours.

So... officially, we're pregnant! 4w5d. But... we're gonna be cautious with this. Last time the numbers tripled for the first few betas, then doubled, then dropped and I miscarried at 5w3d. And the numbers are starting lower this time than they did then, too.

And just to confuse things, most of my 'symptoms' have gone, apart from being tired and feeling constantly either hungry, gassy, or queasy (my tummy's not happy... but I'll take it!)

Next beta is on Tuesday, and they'll probably have me in every couple of days until the number's high enough for them to think they might see something on an u/s (should be around 6.5 weeks, give or take)... or until the number goes backwards.

Keeping everything crossed!

A little bit pregnant?

Remember the days when you lived in happy ignorance and believed there was no such thing as "a little bit pregnant"? Oh to live in those days again.

Went for my beta yesterday morning. Having decided as soon as I woke up that there was no way in hell I was going to be remotely productive at work, I called in sick. Lucked out in that they were able to find a vein in my hand pretty quickly for once (as usual, no luck in my arm). In and out of the clinic in about 15 minutes... not, however a short enough time to avoid all the pictures of happy babies... nor, indeed all the babies and toddlers who were there. Le Sigh.

Anyway... nerve wracking day until 2:00 when the phone rang. Aw, who am I kidding... the phone didn't end the nerve wracking-ness of the day. Why not? Because the number was 9.

Here's the breakdown. Less than 5 is negative. 10 or above is positive. Anything in between is that no-man's-land of "a little bit pregnant". So yet again I get past beta day without any definitive answers (last time the number was 18 on beta day #1). So I get to go back again tomorrow (Sunday) for another beta and hope against hope that the number goes up instead of down (which is the direction the nurse's voice says I should expect).

I'm seriously bummed right now. I have no idea how I'm going to get through tomorrow... especially if the result is negative.

Keep your fingers crossed for me? Please?

One more day... just one more day...

Yup... tomorrow's Beta Day. Should be entertaining when I go in tomorrow morning. They have a hard time finding my veins on the best of days, and if anything, this damn Fragmin has made them even harder to find.

Anybody know what they try if they can't find one in either arm or hand? Because usualy they have to resort to a hand for me, and I'm not entirely sure that's going to work tomorrow... so I need to dress appropriately ;)

I have to say... most of me is pretty sure it's going to be bad news tomorrow. I say most of me, because there's a tiny little voice in my head that's listening to DH who is equally sure it'll be good news... and another tiny little voice in my head is pointing out that although I can choose to write off most of what I'm going through to the meds, the increased sesitivity to scents and the associated increase from queasy to nauseous doesn't really fit.

So, in a nutshell... who knows? Le Sigh.

On the plus side... after 13 Fragmin injections, I've managed to get away with only 5 bruises on my tummy, and one unexplained bruise elsewhere (I probably hit something and didn't notice at the time). I think that's a pretty good record!

Focus on the positive, right?

Amazing the things we'll share with relative strangers...

Yup... I was just re-reading some previous posts. I remember being a very shy and reserved person. Heck, for most things I still am. What is it about infertility treatments that takes everything associated with them outside the realm of normal personality restraints and makes us want to share every tiny little detail? Is it the habit of dropping our drawers whenever we see a white coat... like Pavlovian training... we see the coat, we strip from the waist down? Is it a desperation to understand everything we're being put through and hopefully find someone else out there in the ether who knows what we're talking about? Is it a desenitization to such details as cervical mucous, nipple and breast tenderness, ovarian and uterine position, "cooter cams", etc.?

And why the hell am I wondering this? Oh wait... that's right... because I've given this URL to a few people who might not particularly want to know all those tiny little details. To them I say this... don't read any more... just take me out, but me a Second Cup white hot chocolate, and ask me what's going on. I'm much better and censoring myself when I'm actually talking instead of typing ;) Plus, this blog I started primarily for me... because I don't journal well... because I needed an outlet that I could use in those moments when I can't exactly pull out a notebook and start scribbling madly.

like now. It's Tuesday. I've got my beta on Friday. I've spent a week and a half telling myself that all the insanity is just "side effects" of all the varied meds I'm on (estrogen, progesterone, blood thinners, steroids... ). And I just about manage to convince myself, but then I get a new one that I just can't chalk up to it... but then the Mood Swing Express pulls in again and I swing from that vague hope to an absolute certainty that it didn't work this time... and what are we going to do now, because we did everything we should to have it work this time... the embies even looked better than either of the previous 2 transfers and one of those worked (ended badly, but worked)... and then I wonder should I just POAS and then I'd know... except that I wouldn't. Remember last time... + beta, but no + HPT until 5 days later... HPTs just aren't as sensitive, and they're yes/no... there's no grey area... there's no "well, it's over 10, but under 50, so it's positive but low, try again in 2 days and we'll see where the numbers go".

Gah... I wish it was Friday afternoon already so I'd know one way or the other. This waiting is driving me crazy.

In other news, I haven't had a good solid night's sleep since Tuesday of last week, so I'm a wee bit cranky... and tired... and queasy... and tired... and did I mention tired... and wobbly... and klutzy... and tired... and queasy... and tired.... and I'm repeating myself, aren't I?

Le Sigh.

Blah. 10dp3dt

I have no idea what's going on with me. None. No clue.

- haven't slept through the night in about a week
- tired all the time (but that might be a side effect of the first point)
- waves of heat while I try to sleep (but that might be a combination of things... like the cats... or the duvet... or the blast furnace that is my husband... or the meds... or...)
- low grade queasiness almost constantly (but again, that might be the lack of sleep)
- some days when I just can't get enough to drink... and others when I find it challenging to choke down 2L over the course of the day
- definite hankerings... but for things that are bad for me that I've been trying to cut down or out of the intake (like Coca-Cola and chocolate)... and definite "Umm... no thanks" items, but I wouldn't go so far as to call any of those "aversions"
- gassy. Let's just leave it at that. But that could just as easily be a product of the Progesterone injections
- the Mood Swing Express has definitely put our house on it's "frequent service" list. But again, that could be a feature of the lack of sleep
- klutzy beyond belief, and wobbly (I wouldn't go so far as to say "dizzy spells", but definitely moments when the world seems to take a tilt)... but again, that whole sleep thing.
- my nose is going nuts. I'm sneezing all over the place (but don't have a cold or other allergy symptoms)... and I keep smelling things DH can't (although I'm not entirely convinced I'm not having scent hallucinations, either)

DH is convinced that all these things add up to me being pregnant. But I'm just not feeling all that "positive". For one, and I'll admit it's silly, but my boobs just don't hurt. My boobs always hurt in the 2ww... and last time we got a positive my nipples were extremely sensitive and painful... not so much right now (and, in the spirit of doing all things insane, I keep checking *laugh*).

Gah! Why can't it be Friday already????

Are you sure humans don't hibernate???

Good gawd I'm tired. No, "tired" doesn't even really cover it. I'm exhausted. Dead on my feet. Wiped out.

I was kind of tired before, but once about noon yesterday hit I was just crushed under a wave of exhaustion. Could barely keep my eyes open at my desk... didn't relish the thought of walking to the GO Station to find my way home because it meant moving. And moving was NOT something I wanted to do. To much energy required to move. I managed to hang in there until 9:00 last night before surrendering to the exhaustion and heading to bed. But do you think I could get to sleep? No. Of course not. And when I finaly DID get to sleep, do you think I could STAY asleep. Nope. Not a chance. My personal favourite was when my bladder woke me up a mere hour before the alarm was set to go off. And then the cats followed me into the bathroom to tell me (loudly) how happy they were I was finally up. Not very helpful for my plan of making the trip in a sleepy haze of not-really-fully-awakeness so I could still get most of that last hour asleep. So when the alarm finally went off I would quite happily have rolled over and gone back to sleep... for at least the next week... possibly a few months. Le Sigh.

And now, of course, I feel like crap, and I can't tell if it's "side effects of the meds" or being freakin' exhausted that's making me want to hurl, fall over, or drop stuff. Oh yeah... we can add those three things to my list... 'cuz I want to hurl (not seriously run-to-the-bathroom-don't-get-in-my-way hurl, but that feeling in the back of your throat that any second now you might get to revisit breakfast a little bit), if I close my eyes or turn my head too fast I want to fall over, and I'm dropping stuff left, right, and centre. Good Times!

In other news... got the call from the clinic yesterday with the update on our remaining embie. On Transfer Day they had said that they'd freeze 6, but there was a 7th that was growing slowly and they wanted to give it a few more days to see if it reached blast before freezing it. It didn't make it. So... while we didn't really expect it would, and 6 is a better number in terms of 2-embie transfers, and 6 is still an awesome number to have on-ice (3 times what we had last time!), I'm a little sad. Another of our kids didn't make it. :(

d5p3dt - I spoke too soon...

.. about not bruising from the Fragmin. Silly me forgot that yesterday was my first day wearing regular pants AND sitting in a regular chair all day... silly me also forgot that said regular pants (or jeans, or the belt I wear with my work pants) create certain abdominal pressure points... silly me also forgot that these pressure points line up with my preferred local for these injections... just below the belly button all the way across. Le Sigh. So... I am now the proud owner of one large-ish and one small very black bruises.

In other fun... I apparently nicked a blood vessle when jabbing myself for my progesterone shot last night and illustrated that yes, the blood thinners are actually working. I said to DH as I lifted the alcohol swap after about 10 seconds of post-injection pressure "looks like I've got a gusher"... and sure enough, he slapped a band-aid on (we often do that if it's an active bleeder just to save my sanity... and my clothes) and it was soaked through in about 3 seconds. Yup... when I said gusher... I meant gusher. So he sprinted for a tissue which I held over the band-aid and I lay down on my tummy on the bed while he sorted out finding a bigger bain-aid. Of course, after about 90 seconds of additional pressure and lying down, by the time he had the old band-aid off and the new one un-wrapped it had stopped bleeding. I do, however, expect a pretty bruise there, too.

And tonight he's not home, so I get to do my own progesterone injection. Luckily it's on my right side tonight and I'm right-handed, so it should be easy enough (all things considered).

4dp3dt – that’s 4 days post 3-day transfer for the uninitiated

So… 4 days down… 10 days to go! Good grief that sounds like a long time. Le Sigh.

So. Good things:

• I seem to be holding my own with the meds. DH is helping with the PIO (still just pushing the plunger and I do the rest, but that’s all I need right now).
• Not bruising much (so far, 2 very small bruises from the Fragmin injections… both on the same side, oddly enough).
  
  Not so wonderful things:
• the Fragmin injection seems to have a mild “shock” effect on my system. Meaning after I “shoot up” with the blood thinner, I have to sit down and have something to eat. Not a huge deal, but something to keep an eye on.
• The progesterone “side effects” have started. At least, I’m choosing to tell myself it’s the meds, for the sake of my sanity. For the next 2 weeks, everything is a side-effect of the progesterone *laugh* So far we’ve got: gassiness, increased appetite, increased thirst, fatigue, sore nips and peeing every freakin’ hour. I expect increased scent sensitivity will kick in any day now, followed by nausea/queasiness and possibly food aversions. I had those even in December when we got the BFN (Big Fat Negative, again, for the uninitiated).
  
  Such fun!
  
  A big huge “shout out” to all my friends in the 2ww, or staring down the barrel of the IVF gun in the next little while. Especially big hugs heading out to ‘M’ on the West Coast, ‘cuz right now I just want to wrap her up in a big huge hug and try to make it all better…. Hon, we’ve been there, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me and I’m more than happy to listen.
  
  That’s enough obsession for one day, I think… I’m trying to pretend the next 10 days aren’t really happening, so if I’m sporadic, that’s why *laugh*
  
  Take care, all!

Transfer complete!

Ok... I should have updated yesterday afternoon, but I was both too excited and too tired.. so I'm updating now instead.

Our transfer was scheduled for 11:30 yesterday, but didn't end up happening until shortly after 1:00... on the plus side, I got to go to the washroom many times in that extra 90 minutes, and it meant we were the last procedure of the day and I could "recover" on the table instead of having to move back to our ultra-luxurious cubby hole *laugh* What that means, for those who might be reading and don't know, is that for the 15-20 minutes post-transfer when I was supposed to rest and let things settle before finally going pee I was able to stay lying down instead of standing up to get back to my chair and then sitting for the time. Let me tell you, it's much easier to hold it for that extra time when gravity's not working against you! So DH and I stayed in the dimly lit OR and chatted :)

Yes... DH managed to brave the OR this time, and I'm so glad he did! Because our embies this time looked so gorgeous... so much better than the previous transfers... much rounder and more complex looking :) Even the lab techs chimed in telling us they looked beautiful :) Lots of positivity in the OR yesterday... which was a nice change from before when it was really only Dr. D's restrained positivity. Yesterday we had positive vibes coming at us from the lab techs, the u/s tech, 2 nurses, and Dr. L!! It actually helped a lot with my outlook on this whole thing... I actually have hope now (although that's a bit of a double-edged sword, because if it doesn't end up working I'll be even worse)

We were given the option of transferring 2 or 3. I'm not really all that keen on the notion of a 'selective reduction', though, and I'd have to agree to that in order for them to transfer 3, so I said 2. Of the 9 they reported on Wednesday, 8 of them grew like gangbusters ("excellent excellent embryos" says Dr. L ), and one of them was a little slow. So we transferred 2, froze 6, and that last one will stay in the lab for another day or two to see if it reaches blast. If it does, it'll join its siblings in the nitrogen tank... if it doesn't, we've still got a few more chances on ice and are miles ahead of where we were after the last retrieval. Personally, knowing that our FET transferred a 6-cell and an 8-cell, I think the first time they should have let the remaining 2 grow to blast before freezing and possibly saved us the money, but that's just me being pessimistic in hindsight. *shrug*

And, although we discovered that there aren't any options they're willing to give us for the castor oil progesterone transit medium (there are other options, but they want to avoid seed-based oils in case there's an allergic reaction, apparently), DH has stepped up and in spite of the fact that needles make him light-headed, is giving me a helping hand for my progesterone injections (I'm still doing the Fragmin ones on my own)! Well, he heard the nurse bascially tell me that the only other option was to come to the clinic every day, and that's not really feasible. So now I jab myself, and he pushes the plunger, and I remove the needle, because really it's not the injection so much as the fact that I can't get enough pressure on the plunger at that angle with such a stubbornly thick oil (even when I heat it... it's crazy!). He's a super-star!

He's very cute... he had to work today, but he wants me to stay in bed, so he packed me a lunch and put the cats on "guard duty"... they have to keep an eye on me and take care of me. And since they're both very vocal and prone to yelling at us when they're mad, it might just work *laugh*

Two irritations from yesterday:

1 - although Dr. L had my chart in front of him and could glean from it my age, he apparently missed his own notes indicating that yes, we've done this before, and it ended in an early miscarriage, so I had to share that info with the room in general. Ok for me, but DH is still pretty raw on the subject :(

2 - while I was getting into my gown with the curtain closed on our cubby, one of the "new" nurses came in to chat with the other "new" nurse (they're both early to mid 20's), and in spite of the big sign on the wall saying that "patients are recovering behind the curtains" (read: there are fertility patients in these cubbies... if the curtain is closed, assume the room is occupied), she started off with "my gawd, if you thought cancer patients were high maintenance, they've got nothing on fertility patients" (or words to that effect). She stopped mid tirade, so obviously her friend had kicked her and motioned to our cubby. At the time DH and I were laughing, but in retrospect it pisses me off. Especially when she followed up with an attempt to backpedal that basically said she meant that fertility patients ask too many questions. WTF???? It's a highly emotionally charged diagnosis and a pretty invasive testing and treatment process... damn freakin' skippy I'm gonna ask questions and be as "high maintenance" as I damn well please to make sure I understand what I'm taking and putting myself and my husband through and why. Gah! I'm debating saying something to the head nurse about it... that kind of insensitivity, lack of tact and discretion, and lack of compassion really has no place in a fertility clinic setting... especially not in the IVF suite! But should I report her?

Ouch... enough of this crap...

Ok... so last night was progesterone injection #2. As I described it to DH last night, Castor Oil (as a delivery medium) has roughly the consistancy of warm-ish honey. Meaning it doesn't flow so much as ooze. This makes it a little difficult to depress the plunger in the syringe. This makes it damn near impossible for someone like me... because DH can't deal with the sight of needles and I'm consequently stuck giving them to myself. The Lupron was no problem (it goes in the gut)... the stims were no problem (so far, I'm able to twist far enough to inject things into my own butt).... I expect the Fragmin will be easy peasy (again... gut shots)... and while the progesterone in seasme oil was a bit of a pain the last 2 times, it was doable. Castor oil just isn't. I can't do it and not end up jiggling the damn needle in my butt... which of course results in pretty red stuff leaking from the injection site as soon as I remove the needle.

Not cool.

I like my blood... I'm very attached to it. Just ask the blood techs who can never find a vein *laugh* I don't like it flowing from injection sites.

So... I think tomorrow when I'm getting instruction on my Fragmin, I'm going to ask if they have any other alternatives to Sesame other than Castor oil... maybe grapeseed? Grapeseed would be good... it's nice and thin....

UPDATE! We have the initial report...

Ok... before I spill the beans... let me flash back to our first round of IVF. Back in October '07 the stats were thus:
retrieved: 15
mature: 8
fertilized: 4
which gave us roughly 27% of the eggies they harvested to pin our hopes to. That's a lot to ask of such a small creature!

So this time the numbers are:
retrieved: 15 (again)
ICSI'd: 10 (I knew some of them would be too small, and after my last u/s was only expecting there to be 10 retrieved!)
fertilized: drum roll please.... 9!!!!!

That's 60% of what they retrieved... and 90% of what I expected! :) I'm positively giddy right now! Those numbers are WAY better than last time (I'm not sure if it's the doc, the meds, or the supplements DH has been taking... but at this point, I don't really care!)

They'll call tomorrow and let me know what time the transfer will be scheduled for *happy dance* Hopefully they all grade out nicely :)

2 p.m. is really far too late for breakfast….

Well… the retrieval’s done! Finally!!

Here’s an idea how our Tuesday played out after my last post.

I woke DH up at about 7:30 because my mother was kind enough to drive us and was picking us up at 9:15. He ate… I looked longingly at his bagel. I told my stomach to shut up. This was something that happened frequently on Tuesday… me telling my stomach to shut up.

Mom picked us up and we headed off downtown. DH and I were supposed to be in the IVF suite for 10:45, but we got there at 10:30. We were shown into a room with a door (instead of the curtained cubicles we’ve been in before) and I changed into my gowns and checked out the new heated massage recliner they just bought a whole slew of (good to see that my fees are being put to good use *laugh* Although… it was a very comfortable chair after the retrieval was finally done).

DH went off to party with his little cup and the nurse came in to give me my IV. Luckily, she didn’t have too much difficulty finding a vein… unfortunately it still hurts, and I expect to have a bruise to match the one from Saturday’s blood draw. Oh well… at least my hands will match. Oddly appropriate to have wounded hands coming up to Easter, I suppose *laugh* (I’m going straight to hell for that one, I’m sure ;) )

Anyway… they finally brought me into the OR (thank goodness, I was mere seconds away from pouncing on the plate of nibbles that was waiting for me)… got me up on the ‘table’ and hooked me up to the oxygen meter and blood pressure. Took my blood pressure 3 times before the nurse saw numbers she was happy with (I have a bit of the “white coat syndrome”… I don’t trust doctors, so medical situations tend to make me a wee bit stressed). They gave me the first dose of the loopy juice. I think it was a different cocktail this time than last time… I felt sleepy pretty quickly, but was coming back around when they gave me dose #2. Of course, I was wide awake at 12:15 when the doc still wasn’t there yet. Le Sigh. So… when he showed up, they knocked me down pretty hard. I have no idea how much I got this time, but I’m pretty darn sure it was more than last time. I only remember snippets of the retrieval.

I remember 3 nurses, the doc, and the u/s tech clustered around me and thinking “Damn, it’s a good thing DH decided not to be in the OR for this… there’s nowhere for him!”

I remember a few stabs of pain

I remember looking at the screen at one point to see the eggs and seeing a wash of red. And then another. And then it cleared.

And I remember hearing “there were 2 in that one!”

Once they were done, I was helped out to our recovery room and plunked in the wonder-chair… hot water bottle clutched to my belly… covered in a blanket… chair turned on. I think I dozed for a bit, but I’m not 100% sure (see previous comment about how much loopy juice I got this time!). Finally felt up to having some food… 8 saltines, 2 “bear paw” cookies, and a Del Monte fruit punch pouch later I was feeling almost human again. So my IV and I went for a trip to the washroom to “try to pee”. Success! So they unhooked my IV (1.5 L of fluids after they started it… I guess I was “thirsty” *laugh*) and sent me on my merry way.

Our final count was 15… so either I had a few ‘doubles’, or some were hiding at my last u/s on Sunday, because there sure weren’t 15 then! *laugh*

I felt bad for the folks who were sitting waiting for their own procedures… we didn’t get out of there until 2:00, so even if I spent an hour in recovery things were already stacked up pretty far behind me :(

I was feeling pretty battered inside, and was moving very carefully. Thank goodness I came prepared for spotting, too (pure fluke I had a pad in my purse), because that wash of red was still making its way out. Blah.

We stopped at Wendy’s on the way home… Mmmm… grilled chicken sandwhich… breakfast of champions. But really, 2:00 p.m. is too late for breakfast.

I fell asleep in the car again about half-way home, and I was looking more corpse-like than usual by the time I made my way upstairs at 3:00 to crawl into bed for 3 hours sleep (give or take). Had an early night, too… and this morning I’m feeling almost “normal” again.

Now I wait for the clinic to call and tell me how many fertilized and other such fun.

retrieval in a few LONG hours....

So... my clock tells me it's 6:48 a.m. I'm up. I'm showered. I'm contemplating what to wear that'll be most comfortable and yet still weather appropriate (something tells me just going in my robe might be frowned upon *laugh*)... and I'm freakin' STARVING!

Why is it that on the average day I could probably manage 'til about 11:00 without breakfast with no issues, but as soon as I know I'm not ALLOWED to eat I'm famished? And, of course, I woke up this morning feeling parched and I'm not allowed to drink anything, either (not even water). Le Sigh.

So... today is retrieval day. DH is still asleep (I figure he has to deal with seeing me unable to move under my own power... the least I can do is let him get a little more sleep to help him cope *laugh*). The cats are shunning me (that's nothing new... they don't expect me to be here... and I'm not in bed)... I expect they'll think all their birthdays came at once later today when they have full access to a sleeping person in bed in the middle of the day, though. Silly kittens. Because, yep... that's my plan... ignore the rumbling and gurgling in my tummy... go get punctured a lot by a giant-assed needle... get hopped up on loopy juice (oh wait... that happens before the giant needle)... scarf some "free" snacks (yeah... "free"... 'cuz I'm not paying an arm and 3 legs for this whole IVF thing. Yeesh!)... stumble to the car... stumble from the car... crawl back into bed and sleep for 3 or 4 hours :) And then drive myself mental waiting for the phone call tomorrow telling me how many eggies they got and how many fertilized. I see tomorrow and Thursday at work being almost as productive as yesterday was... I was just a wee bit distracted. Ah well. I'm taking me an extra long weekend, so hopefully my brain will be a bit more focused next week *laugh*

6:56.... 8 minutes closer to the 10:45 retrieval....

Retrieval set!

Here we go… tomorrow is retrieval day!

But first, let me tell you about my weekend….

Saturday – Got up at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. to be out of the house by 6:30 to be at the clinic close to 7:00 in the snow … only to realize when I got there at 7:25 that the weekend hours don’t start ‘til 8:00. Blah.

Being unfamiliar with the process when the doc wants to do the u/s, but knowing that the u/s sign-in chart is what the gals on the desk use to pull patient files, I signed up there (noting that the doc was going to do the u/s), then signed the doc’s list, then signed up for bloodwork. So an u/s tech calls my name… and the proceeds to bitch at me because I shouldn’t have signed up on her list because that’s just for the u/s techs. Nice. I go back over to the blood waiting area and my book.

Blood tech comes in early (yay), and calls my name, since I’m first on the list. I go in and tell him that if he can’t find a vein in my arm, he needs to use the smallest syringe he’s got because I have really small veins and the butterfly won’t work (because it hadn’t worked the 3 times prior to Saturday). Does he believe me? No. He INSISTS on using the butterfly. Let’s just say that I still had a lump on the back of my hand 12 hours later and now have a bruise the size of a $2 coin. Joy. And the pain! OMG, I’ve never had that much pain from a blood draw before, and that includes the times they’ve had to dig to find a vein or double-punctured.

Go over to the u/s waiting area and get put in a room for the doc. All good. He seems really happy about the follies he’s seeing, but mentions that he thinks my left ovary was “on strike”. Sure enough, there’s between 7 & 10 follies on the right ovary (I could see the nice cluster), but only 3 small-ish ones on the left. All follies on Saturday measured between 1.3 (left side) – 2.3, with the majority being 2.0 – 2.3 cm. Got my morning shot and my take-home package for my evening shot and was told to be back Sunday morning. I was out of there by 8:10!

Joy… did I mention we were expected to get pounded by yet another winter storm on Saturday? Yup. And it was well under way on my way home (heck, it was well underway on my way TO the clinic, but it took a bit of a break while I was there, which I thought was nice of it *laugh*).

Then home… an hour of snow shoveling at about 11 a.m. during another lull… by the time the storm was over we’d gotten about another 30 cm where we are… plus blow-in. DH shoveled 4 times, plus my 1, just to keep it tamed.

Sunday… back at the clinic. Early again, because I allowed myself more time than needed to get there. Good thing I did, too… while most of the main streets had been plowed at some point, none of them had been salted, so driving was a mix of polished ice and 2 inch snowy-slush. My car went dancing on the way home… it was quite entertaining. But anyway… got to the clinic early, signed the requisite lists (not the u/s list this time so I wouldn’t get yelled at). Started off my day with the blood tech being late. Then I had to tell him off about the fiasco of Saturday. He asked if I wanted to wait for his co-worker, so I said, no… but that if he couldn’t find a vein in my arm that he was going to use the smallest needled syringe he had and that was that. So, of course, he found a vein in my arm *laugh* First time in weeks that’s happened! Doesn’t help the massive bruise on my hand that I can’t hide, but that’s life.

Had my u/s and was told that things were “really cooking”. Apparently most of the follies from Saturday had grown another 3 – 4 mm over 24 hours! So… retrieval was set for Tuesday March 11th. Which makes transfer Friday March 14th!

Got my morning shot… the last stim injection of the cycle! Got my hCG and instructions to trigger… at 12:30 Sunday night (technically this morning)… and to do my final Lupron dose at the same time. Great! Of course, we get up at 5:00 a.m. for work, so I’m functioning (barely) on about 4 hours of sleep today, but I get to be needle free today! Yesterday we started our Doxycycline (1 pill each twice daily for 3 days). I’m still doing the baby-Aspirin and Prednisone (which I finally learned is supposed to help with implantation). I got my Progesterone in Oil (Castor this time, since most people apparently develop a mild allergy to the Sesame after a couple of cycles… which explains a lot about the itching with our FET cycle). Also got all our consent forms to sign. And instructions on when to start the Estrace etc. Retrieval is set for 10:45 tomorrow morning.

I also got Fragmin to inject… but no instructions… so I’ve got a call in to the clinic on that one. It’s an anti-coagulant/anti-thrombosis med… same family as Heparin. So now I’m wondering why. I mean, I know I tested positive for some antibody or other, but when I asked Dr. D about clotting issues a few months ago she said that wasn’t a problem. Being put on this drug would suggest otherwise, I think. Guess we’ll find out.

Not sure when I’ll update again… it might be after the retrieval… it might not be until after the transfer. I expect I’ll be going mental between the 14th and the 28th, though… something about an IVF 2ww just seems so much nuttier.