This time last year was the culmination of the most difficult phase of my life so far. A year ago I posted about how surreal infertility is. I was in the thick of an IVF treatment and at my wit's end after all the TTC, the failed IVF cycle earlier that spring, the cyst, and the miscarriage.
Last year, on June 10th we got bad news about our impending IVF cycle (attempt #2). I only had one follicle after injecting a ridiculous amount of extremely expensive drugs into my belly. The monitoring appointment where we learned this was, of course, the day we took off from work to belatedly celebrate our 6-year anniversary. I was devastated. I knew then that I had to give up or I'd lose my mind. I hated my body, I hated the situation, I hated that nothing we did had any effect on fixing or altering the situation. I cried really hard for about an hour after we left the doctor's office. And then I stopped crying. I hit that cold emotional state when you realize that you've cried all you can about that issue. It was time to move on.
But to add to the surreal-ness of the situation, we saw our regular and much-loved RE a day or two later. There was one big follicle and two smaller ones by that time and she recommended that we go ahead with IVF anyway. She said that even though there were only a few follicles they might be really good ones and we should go forward in order to see how my body would respond.
And so we did. We decided that since we were so far into the process we should at least follow this one all the way through even though it looked grim.
I want to quote myself here. This is from my post on June 14, 2010, "what a crazy crazy world... if I actually get a baby out of this it would make some sense. Nothing I do ever happens without some "wonky" involved. I sure hope we are passed the worst part of it though."
And the craziness of it all? We were. We were past the worst part of it. My wonderful Madsy was one of those two smaller follicles, one of only two that fertilized, one of only two that were transferred back to me two days later, the one who implanted, the one who survived all of my fear and a CVS test. She was the one who made it all the way to her birth and now to being 3 months old.
That surreal mind frame continues though. Despite the fact that I have gotten up every night for the last 91 nights to nurse Mads, and had some nights that never contained anything that even remotely resembled "going to bed" for me, I still look at her in amazement that she's mine. She's this little stranger who has come into my life. A little stranger that has shown me that mothering her is even better than I had dreamed it would be or dared to let myself fantasize.
It is cliche to say this, but I stand in awe of the last year and how much things have changed. It really is surreal.
Thank you all for the love and support. Thank you for understanding my shout-out for help the other day. I really appreciate all the suggestions and empathy. I have now instigated Feel-Good-Fridays. Last week I had a massage on Friday afternoon and this coming Friday I am getting a mani-pedi (and I think I'll paint my finger nails a color even though Dh hates it). I have done a few bouts of modest exercise, made myself some good food to eat, and am motivated to take care of me as well as taking care of M. I want her to be super good to herself. What better way than to show her by example? I owe it to this wonderful little creature who has brought me so much peace and happiness. I owe it to that sweet little follicle who beat the odds.
Showing posts with label IVF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IVF. Show all posts
Monday, June 13, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
The cup
I've written before about not really knowing what to put into a birth plan. All I really want is to make it through safely and have a healthy baby to take home. Otherwise, I'm really flexible. I mean think about it, after you completely give up on a romantic passionate evening with the love of your life being the moment-of-conception memory that you hold forever for your child, do the birth details really matter either?
But I realized that there is one thing that I do care about. A physical object that has come to represent quite a lot to me.
And it's a big plastic cup.
On June 11, 2010, Dh and I had a monitoring appointment as we went into our second IVF attempt. We had planned to take the day off from work to celebrate our anniversary, so this monitoring appointment was supposed to be something relatively positive on the baby-front that we did early in the morning before heading to the zoo to watch the monkeys.
But this monitoring appointment did not go well. In fact, it was terrible. We were told that we only had one follicle after all the injections and surgery and cyst and waiting, etc. etc. We were both upset but I was pretty devastated. That was rock bottom and I was ready to give up. If we weren't already so invested by that time, and already paid close to $25,000 on this baby project, I would have given up and walked away. Licked my wounds. Tried to pretend none of this every happened, that I didn't really want to have a child.
We went to the zoo as planned and ended up napping in front of the monkeys, just absorbing the news and not really talking about it. We managed to have a really nice day that ended with margaritas at a wonderful mexican restaurant.
But the strange thing was that that one follicle turned into three, and one of those was the golden egg that is now little M. My little M who is due TOMORROW.
We shared a drink that day at the zoo, one that came in a big plastic cup with a lid and straw and a giraffe on it. One of those cups meant to be kept and used over and over.
I started using this cup at work to help me keep track of how much water I was drinking over the last 9 months.
It reminds me of that day at the zoo, the day I pretty much gave up hope. And it reminds me of how wrong I was.
I brought that cup home with me when I left school the other day. I want to use it during labor to keep hydrated. I want it to be there to remind me how far we've come, how wrong I was that day, this crazy path we've taken to little M, and all of my blogsisters who have traveled this path before me and who will follow in my shoes hopefully very, very soon.
So my birth plan? Perspective, gratefulness, and a take-home baby.
But I realized that there is one thing that I do care about. A physical object that has come to represent quite a lot to me.
And it's a big plastic cup.
On June 11, 2010, Dh and I had a monitoring appointment as we went into our second IVF attempt. We had planned to take the day off from work to celebrate our anniversary, so this monitoring appointment was supposed to be something relatively positive on the baby-front that we did early in the morning before heading to the zoo to watch the monkeys.
But this monitoring appointment did not go well. In fact, it was terrible. We were told that we only had one follicle after all the injections and surgery and cyst and waiting, etc. etc. We were both upset but I was pretty devastated. That was rock bottom and I was ready to give up. If we weren't already so invested by that time, and already paid close to $25,000 on this baby project, I would have given up and walked away. Licked my wounds. Tried to pretend none of this every happened, that I didn't really want to have a child.
We went to the zoo as planned and ended up napping in front of the monkeys, just absorbing the news and not really talking about it. We managed to have a really nice day that ended with margaritas at a wonderful mexican restaurant.
But the strange thing was that that one follicle turned into three, and one of those was the golden egg that is now little M. My little M who is due TOMORROW.
We shared a drink that day at the zoo, one that came in a big plastic cup with a lid and straw and a giraffe on it. One of those cups meant to be kept and used over and over.
I started using this cup at work to help me keep track of how much water I was drinking over the last 9 months.
It reminds me of that day at the zoo, the day I pretty much gave up hope. And it reminds me of how wrong I was.
I brought that cup home with me when I left school the other day. I want to use it during labor to keep hydrated. I want it to be there to remind me how far we've come, how wrong I was that day, this crazy path we've taken to little M, and all of my blogsisters who have traveled this path before me and who will follow in my shoes hopefully very, very soon.
So my birth plan? Perspective, gratefulness, and a take-home baby.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Grateful
I am over the top happy that the Nobel Prize for medicine went to Robert G. Edwards. I smiled a lot on Monday after I heard, and am so pleased that there was so much media coverage of the positive impact that IVF has made on the western world. Over one million children are the result of his amazing success in the laboratory, and my little one is one of them! Thank you Dr. Edwards.
I am also very happy that the Nobel committee decided, whether intentionally or not, to validate infertility as a disease by awarding the prize in medicine to IVF. This is a major step in the right direction.
I am not grateful that the NYTimes decided to interview this doctor as the expert on infertility. He says the main problem is that women are waiting too long before having children, and that the solution is for women to have babies in their 20s. I wonder if he had children in his 20s, or did he marry a 20 year old when he was 50 with an established career and financial security?
The reason so many women delay child bearing is financial career stability. Had I had significant resources to help with childcare I just might have had a kid earlier in my life. I seriously day dreamed about having a baby before graduate school, but the financial reality of my $18,000 a year job made that seem very irresponsible. If people want fertility trends to change in this country, the country needs to prioritize childcare subsidies. Otherwise, stop criticizing women for waiting until they can afford children before having them. Nothing quite like a little financial security to make sure that child won't end up on being a paycheck away from living on the streets.
I am grateful for the Heartbeats at Home people. I tried to have faith that all was going ok with my pregnancy, but when my ob appointment was delayed for more than a week, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I rented one of Heartbeats at Home's dopplers. It came last night and I got to hear her heartbeat... it was really sweet.
I am also very happy that the Nobel committee decided, whether intentionally or not, to validate infertility as a disease by awarding the prize in medicine to IVF. This is a major step in the right direction.
I am not grateful that the NYTimes decided to interview this doctor as the expert on infertility. He says the main problem is that women are waiting too long before having children, and that the solution is for women to have babies in their 20s. I wonder if he had children in his 20s, or did he marry a 20 year old when he was 50 with an established career and financial security?
The reason so many women delay child bearing is financial career stability. Had I had significant resources to help with childcare I just might have had a kid earlier in my life. I seriously day dreamed about having a baby before graduate school, but the financial reality of my $18,000 a year job made that seem very irresponsible. If people want fertility trends to change in this country, the country needs to prioritize childcare subsidies. Otherwise, stop criticizing women for waiting until they can afford children before having them. Nothing quite like a little financial security to make sure that child won't end up on being a paycheck away from living on the streets.
I am grateful for the Heartbeats at Home people. I tried to have faith that all was going ok with my pregnancy, but when my ob appointment was delayed for more than a week, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I rented one of Heartbeats at Home's dopplers. It came last night and I got to hear her heartbeat... it was really sweet.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
the RE angel
My RE was out of town all last week, which is why I had to see the other guy last Monday who I wasn't entirely keen on.
I got to see my Dr. today, as the nurse made a special appointment for me. I was kind of blown away b/c there was no one else in the clinic, as I think they are mostly just open on that floor for early morning monitoring appointments, and my apt was at 12.30pm.
Of course I got there early, as I'm pathological like that for all of this IF stuff. I got to go in early, and was so excited to see my RE! I just gushed all kinds of thanks and then laid back for the wand treatment. She was wonderful, talked me through all kinds of stuff she could see and what it meant... from the heartbeat of 153 and how they measure it, the crown-rump length of 12mm (twice the size from monday!), to where it had implanted in my uterus (the part she refurbished for me), and also pointed out this white ring that encircles the sac. Apparently when miscarriages are starting, that circle often starts to disintegrate beforehand. I need to look into the biology on this, but she pointed out that mine looks really good. I have never been so relieved in my entire life. I could have cried (but didn't).
She then asked if I had an ob yet, and I said that I technically did but I wanted to change b/c of the bad memories with the miscarriage. She then recommended two people closer to where I live who she thinks are really caring and will do me good. I could have jumped up and down if I still did activities like that (I'm still in the I-might-break-if-I'm-not-careful phase). I've been so loath to search for an ob, as I live in an area where it is kind of hard to get into a practice, and then to know who is good and who isn't.
I couldn't have asked for more today.
Apparently I'm now officially kicked out of the IVF clinic, sent off with a hug and a "please keep in touch!"
I gave her a gift, which I was a little unsure of but am so glad that I did. Just a pretty basket from where I do fieldwork with some fruit from my backyard. Nothing special, but I really felt like I needed to do something for this woman who did this miraculous thing for me.
Even if something goes wrong, I feel so good about the whole IVF process. My RE and her clinic made this whole horrible experience as minimally horrible as it can be, and never made us feel uncomfortable about our ages or life choices. In fact, it was kind of cool that I relatively frequently ran into lesbian couples at workshops and in the waiting room. And when my girlfriend went with me to my uterus surgery, the nurse assumed she was my partner & not just a friend. That's a sign of a pretty non-judgmental place. Amazing.
My father-in-law is home and doing well. Yesterday he was complaining about politics and the ruin of the country (as seems to be a pretty common habit for the elderly), when he proclaimed that it would be a terrible time to start a family. Dh had to text me that one; too funny. His parents don't know, and we won't tell them until things are much much more progressed. They are going to freak out since Dh is rapidly approaching 60...
Dh will likely leave for home tomorrow evening, stay in a hotel on the road and get back on Monday. I'll miss him though, as I head to visit my parents and some other family early tomorrow morning. Very bad timing for our reunion, but this week ended wonderfully on all counts, so we'll survive a couple more weeks until we can hold each other and breathe a big sigh of relief.
Well, I feel good for today, and hopefully for tomorrow and a couple more days. I was rather nauseous this morning and couldn't have been happier. I'm so, so lucky to have been on the very lucky side of bad statistics this time around. Now, I just hope that the good luck stays with us for about 8 more months and finds all of my blog sisters too!!!
love you all! - inB
I got to see my Dr. today, as the nurse made a special appointment for me. I was kind of blown away b/c there was no one else in the clinic, as I think they are mostly just open on that floor for early morning monitoring appointments, and my apt was at 12.30pm.
Of course I got there early, as I'm pathological like that for all of this IF stuff. I got to go in early, and was so excited to see my RE! I just gushed all kinds of thanks and then laid back for the wand treatment. She was wonderful, talked me through all kinds of stuff she could see and what it meant... from the heartbeat of 153 and how they measure it, the crown-rump length of 12mm (twice the size from monday!), to where it had implanted in my uterus (the part she refurbished for me), and also pointed out this white ring that encircles the sac. Apparently when miscarriages are starting, that circle often starts to disintegrate beforehand. I need to look into the biology on this, but she pointed out that mine looks really good. I have never been so relieved in my entire life. I could have cried (but didn't).
She then asked if I had an ob yet, and I said that I technically did but I wanted to change b/c of the bad memories with the miscarriage. She then recommended two people closer to where I live who she thinks are really caring and will do me good. I could have jumped up and down if I still did activities like that (I'm still in the I-might-break-if-I'm-not-careful phase). I've been so loath to search for an ob, as I live in an area where it is kind of hard to get into a practice, and then to know who is good and who isn't.
I couldn't have asked for more today.
Apparently I'm now officially kicked out of the IVF clinic, sent off with a hug and a "please keep in touch!"
I gave her a gift, which I was a little unsure of but am so glad that I did. Just a pretty basket from where I do fieldwork with some fruit from my backyard. Nothing special, but I really felt like I needed to do something for this woman who did this miraculous thing for me.
Even if something goes wrong, I feel so good about the whole IVF process. My RE and her clinic made this whole horrible experience as minimally horrible as it can be, and never made us feel uncomfortable about our ages or life choices. In fact, it was kind of cool that I relatively frequently ran into lesbian couples at workshops and in the waiting room. And when my girlfriend went with me to my uterus surgery, the nurse assumed she was my partner & not just a friend. That's a sign of a pretty non-judgmental place. Amazing.
My father-in-law is home and doing well. Yesterday he was complaining about politics and the ruin of the country (as seems to be a pretty common habit for the elderly), when he proclaimed that it would be a terrible time to start a family. Dh had to text me that one; too funny. His parents don't know, and we won't tell them until things are much much more progressed. They are going to freak out since Dh is rapidly approaching 60...
Dh will likely leave for home tomorrow evening, stay in a hotel on the road and get back on Monday. I'll miss him though, as I head to visit my parents and some other family early tomorrow morning. Very bad timing for our reunion, but this week ended wonderfully on all counts, so we'll survive a couple more weeks until we can hold each other and breathe a big sigh of relief.
Well, I feel good for today, and hopefully for tomorrow and a couple more days. I was rather nauseous this morning and couldn't have been happier. I'm so, so lucky to have been on the very lucky side of bad statistics this time around. Now, I just hope that the good luck stays with us for about 8 more months and finds all of my blog sisters too!!!
love you all! - inB
Friday, July 2, 2010
Gut feelings ain't worth shit
I started writing today's post a few days ago, trying to come up with the perfect combination of sad about the missed opportunity and staying positive about what I do have to look forward to, which is a lot, childless or not.
Dh has almost gotten mad at me for my bad attitude. He kept saying it's bad for the babies.
So, yep. That very, very sure "I'm not pregnant feeling" was, apparently, entirely wrong.
My beta came in at 314 today.
Can you say, OMG?!!! Add a few curse words there if you of the ilk... I did.
*** by the way -- I LOVE YOU ALL. Thanks for being here for me. And for being here for me on Tuesday when we get the next news. Whatever happens, I am eternally grateful to have blog sisters through it all. I know you will make another miscarriage nowhere near as painful as the first. ***
Dh has almost gotten mad at me for my bad attitude. He kept saying it's bad for the babies.
So, yep. That very, very sure "I'm not pregnant feeling" was, apparently, entirely wrong.
My beta came in at 314 today.
Can you say, OMG?!!! Add a few curse words there if you of the ilk... I did.
*** by the way -- I LOVE YOU ALL. Thanks for being here for me. And for being here for me on Tuesday when we get the next news. Whatever happens, I am eternally grateful to have blog sisters through it all. I know you will make another miscarriage nowhere near as painful as the first. ***
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Fooling myself?
(yea, right. no ivf baby could ever be claimed as a surprise pregnancy without some tragic accident and amnesia coming into play, and even then, how would you know to take the estrace twice a day and progesterone shot each night?)
So it's tough to know how to deal with this feeling. Do I act on it? Do I go ahead and make some summer plans to visit family carefree of timing with my cycle? Do I actually make some commitments that no sane person would make if they were planning on having a baby, you know, all the things I've put off for the last 3 years?
Am I somehow thinking that once I give up I'll get pregnant "naturally"? I'm afraid that might be what I'm doing. And if yes, will I be really angry with myself in a year?
How do you know for sure that your psyche isn't psyching you out?
The BFN reward list so far:
1) romantic dinner with dh on Friday, the day we get the test results (I already made the reservation) so that I can wear the new dress I found at Anthropolgie on sale (ok, good shopping story -- I fell in love with this little hoodie a little while back. The other day when my butt hurt so bad I broken down & decided to buy it for myself as a "cheer me up present" even though the last thing I should be doing is shopping. But I go, and it turns out it had gone on sale! so I got the little hoodie and the dress (can't find a picture of it on-line) all for the original price of the hoodie! yippee! Someone must have just returned it after a long time it b/c it was so marked down, the only one in the store, and exactly my size -- I wear a very hard-to-find-on-sale size)
2) pedicure on Saturday the 3rd
Thursday, June 24, 2010
The things they don't tell you
When I signed on to the idea of having a baby, no one mentioned that I might spend the next 3 years spending as much time and emotional energy trying to get pregnant as if I had been raising a kid for the last 3 years (but with nothing to show for it).
When I sat at the dr's office after the miscarriage, everyone said this was sad, but no one told me that I'd fall into a severe depression that would rob me of all joy for like a year. So I kept thinking I'd get pregnant again quickly and snap out of it. Realized after 9 months that that plan was not going to work.
When I decided to go to an RE, no one told us that the hormonal supplements for a regular cycle really don't increase the likelihood for a 38 year old woman getting pregnant beyond 2-3% per month. So we tried this for 3-4 months. Can you say, "placebo"? and "wasted time"?
When I opted for the better odds of IVF, no one said that it'd take over 6 months before we could even make our first attempt.
When we actually got to start the IVF cycle, I was given the impression that the stimulants were the scariest part drug-wise. Boy was that wrong.
Maybe the stimulants were the worst part from a physiological perspective, or from what the dr sees. But from my perspective, the pain in my ass from the progesterone shots is beyond anything I was warned of.
I can't sit without pain, I can't walk without pain, and I can't lay down without pain. In fact, my gluteus maximus aches all the time. It's like I did way too many reps of a way too heavy weight at the gym.
And I don't have any progesterone-y symptoms. Maybe I'm just shooting progesterone oil shots in my butt but my body isn't absorbing them.
So last night I decided to try giving myself the shot a little lower in the circle sharpied onto my backside to see if that might hurt less.
Let me tell you, that was a mistake. I must have had the needle angled weird or something because the pain is much lower and it really hurts to move my hip (i.e., walk, stand up, move position). From what I know of anatomy, I couldn't have messed anything up. And if I'd hit a nerve it would hurt down my leg.
I'm sitting here thinking to myself that this is just getting ridiculous. If I knew for sure that this would work, then ok. But for a 20% chance? I don't know. I'm not much of a gambler. Are these good enough odds?
I have spent so much time, money, and--most importantly--emotional energy on this baby project and still have nothing to show for it. Who knew that trying to have a baby is probably harder than having one?
(ok, naive statement, but let me wallow)
When I sat at the dr's office after the miscarriage, everyone said this was sad, but no one told me that I'd fall into a severe depression that would rob me of all joy for like a year. So I kept thinking I'd get pregnant again quickly and snap out of it. Realized after 9 months that that plan was not going to work.
When I decided to go to an RE, no one told us that the hormonal supplements for a regular cycle really don't increase the likelihood for a 38 year old woman getting pregnant beyond 2-3% per month. So we tried this for 3-4 months. Can you say, "placebo"? and "wasted time"?
When I opted for the better odds of IVF, no one said that it'd take over 6 months before we could even make our first attempt.
When we actually got to start the IVF cycle, I was given the impression that the stimulants were the scariest part drug-wise. Boy was that wrong.
Maybe the stimulants were the worst part from a physiological perspective, or from what the dr sees. But from my perspective, the pain in my ass from the progesterone shots is beyond anything I was warned of.
I can't sit without pain, I can't walk without pain, and I can't lay down without pain. In fact, my gluteus maximus aches all the time. It's like I did way too many reps of a way too heavy weight at the gym.
And I don't have any progesterone-y symptoms. Maybe I'm just shooting progesterone oil shots in my butt but my body isn't absorbing them.
So last night I decided to try giving myself the shot a little lower in the circle sharpied onto my backside to see if that might hurt less.
Let me tell you, that was a mistake. I must have had the needle angled weird or something because the pain is much lower and it really hurts to move my hip (i.e., walk, stand up, move position). From what I know of anatomy, I couldn't have messed anything up. And if I'd hit a nerve it would hurt down my leg.
I'm sitting here thinking to myself that this is just getting ridiculous. If I knew for sure that this would work, then ok. But for a 20% chance? I don't know. I'm not much of a gambler. Are these good enough odds?
I have spent so much time, money, and--most importantly--emotional energy on this baby project and still have nothing to show for it. Who knew that trying to have a baby is probably harder than having one?
(ok, naive statement, but let me wallow)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
And they are off!
My doctor called last night around 7pm to see if we could come in early so that she could do the transfer herself (there are a bunch of dr's in the practice so they rotate). Of course we jumped at this, 'cause as I've said, we think she's the best.
We showed up quite a bit early because there was, of course, a major accident on the road there, so we left WAY early. I really stressed over the semi-full-bladder thing, but it worked out that I peed about an hour before and then drank a really big glass of water.
Dh had been really hesitant to go into the procedure room but the nurses and doctor were so definite that he should be there that he really ended up with no choice. But I think he's glad he did. They kept encouraging him to move closer and he ended up resting his hand on my head for the whole thing, which I really appreciated. He also asked a bunch of questions, things I wouldn't have thought of at the time (because that Valium makes me happy but really stupid).
The two fertilized embryos did well over night and had multiplied a time or two more than expected, which is good. They still only got categorized as "two", but they look really good to me and dh (parenting bias already kicking in?) But really, they are nicely symmetrical with only a little frag or two, not Like the "two's" in the instruction/info book they gave us.
Both got placed way high up in the newly designed part of my uterus, so I hope they like the new accommodations.
I tried to walk very smoothly on the way out, we drove home, and for some reason I decided that I really really wanted to make pancakes. It was about 10:30am. They were yummy and dh actually staid home to eat with me even though he's not a big pancake fan. We then sat on the couch and I expected him to immediately go to work but he laid down for a nap.
I could keep my eyes open so decided to go to bed where I could snuggle with my body pillow. We slept for four hours. Crazy. I am guessing the combination of the Valium and post-stress really did us in, but it was great. And we obviously need it.
So we woke up, drank grape juice, dh went to work for a couple of hours, and I'll make tacos for dinner.
Do you think the little embies will be enticed to stick around after their first two meals are pancakes, grape juice and tacos? I really really hope so. I'm foolishly even thinking twins would be cool...
We showed up quite a bit early because there was, of course, a major accident on the road there, so we left WAY early. I really stressed over the semi-full-bladder thing, but it worked out that I peed about an hour before and then drank a really big glass of water.
Dh had been really hesitant to go into the procedure room but the nurses and doctor were so definite that he should be there that he really ended up with no choice. But I think he's glad he did. They kept encouraging him to move closer and he ended up resting his hand on my head for the whole thing, which I really appreciated. He also asked a bunch of questions, things I wouldn't have thought of at the time (because that Valium makes me happy but really stupid).
The two fertilized embryos did well over night and had multiplied a time or two more than expected, which is good. They still only got categorized as "two", but they look really good to me and dh (parenting bias already kicking in?) But really, they are nicely symmetrical with only a little frag or two, not Like the "two's" in the instruction/info book they gave us.
Both got placed way high up in the newly designed part of my uterus, so I hope they like the new accommodations.
I tried to walk very smoothly on the way out, we drove home, and for some reason I decided that I really really wanted to make pancakes. It was about 10:30am. They were yummy and dh actually staid home to eat with me even though he's not a big pancake fan. We then sat on the couch and I expected him to immediately go to work but he laid down for a nap.
I could keep my eyes open so decided to go to bed where I could snuggle with my body pillow. We slept for four hours. Crazy. I am guessing the combination of the Valium and post-stress really did us in, but it was great. And we obviously need it.
So we woke up, drank grape juice, dh went to work for a couple of hours, and I'll make tacos for dinner.
Do you think the little embies will be enticed to stick around after their first two meals are pancakes, grape juice and tacos? I really really hope so. I'm foolishly even thinking twins would be cool...
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Twin zygotes!
Thanks so much for all the good wishes. Seems like you all helped make the night a good one for my little zygotes. Two of them fertilized! We'll find out about their quality tomorrow at the time of transfer.
So that still means that we might not do the transfer. Still plenty of time for things to go wrong.
Timed sex was really hard, and lead to more late night tear fests than dh or I care to remember. But is ivf better? Hm. That is a tough one.
While I knew this would be stressful, I honestly didn't really get why so many people choose not to do this again. It is REALLY hard on the emotions. I surprise myself at how edgy I am. And I don't just mean edgy. I mean, I could tear off someone's head with my bare hands edgy.
So that still means that we might not do the transfer. Still plenty of time for things to go wrong.
Timed sex was really hard, and lead to more late night tear fests than dh or I care to remember. But is ivf better? Hm. That is a tough one.
While I knew this would be stressful, I honestly didn't really get why so many people choose not to do this again. It is REALLY hard on the emotions. I surprise myself at how edgy I am. And I don't just mean edgy. I mean, I could tear off someone's head with my bare hands edgy.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The events of the day
8.15am get out of bed (dh and I really like to go to bed late and sleep late, but all of the monitoring apts have cramped that style for the last 4 days).
9.30 on the road -- lots of traffic, unfortunately.
10.30 check in, exactly on time
10.45 go up to the magic floor and get taken into the magic room. Dress in hospital gown, dh says that it's weird how I always look so good in hospital gowns. I don't think he was joking. Hm.
11am very handsome anesthesiologist comes to chat with us, asks about my somewhat complicated medical history. Why are all anesthesiologists good looking? Is this like a rule when interns apply to particular specialties? It's kind of strange. As handsome anesthesiologist walks away dh looks slightly freaked and said that he forgot about the health risks (I have some heart weirdness which mildly increases those risks, but not a big deal). That was sweet.
11.05am dh leaves to do his part of the deal and I go into the procedure room. My wonderful doctor shouts out across the hall, "hi!" as I'm on my way in. I love her. About 10 people (so it seems) are all squeezed into this rather small dark room and are arranging me on a skinny short bed with scoops to hold my knees up and very spread apart. Lots of monitors hooked up to me, lots of tubes and wires and blankets. I remember the cute anesthesiologist commenting on my cold hands and asking a nurse to get me a warm blanket. My wonderful doctor gets me all arranged, I make some comment about how I think I like the traditional method better than all of this, they chuckle. I wonder how many people say that. I also made some comment about my "litter"... how many people joke about that too? I remember nothing else.
12pm I am having weird but not unpleasant dreams as I wake up in a curtained-off recovery area with polka dots. I close my eyes and go back to happy-ville. My wonderful doctor comes in, is very happy and very close to my face. I can't remember what she said but the memory of her smiling face is nice. Wake up again a little later and a nurse and the handsome anesthesiologist are there, we chat for a while about drugs and being in a good place. He tells me about how some patients have sex dreams on those drugs, and others get really chatty and a bit too honest. I asked if I was one of those, and he said no. Hm.
The super nice nurse who taught my injections and IVF class brings me crackers and some gingerale and juice -- she mixes the juice and gingerale and it tastes wonderful.
Dh comes in, they bring him a chair. I'm feeling really good, no pain, just an awareness of my ovaries.
We all chat, get the info from the super nice nurse about what all to expect, what happens next, etc. We ask a lot of questions and she's great about answering them all very patiently.
I sit up. Get monitored a lot more. Nurse starts to remove all the heart monitors and tubes. I then get to stand up, undo my hospital gown while she kindly draws big black circles around where I need to do my progesterone shots when I start those on Thursday.
We all laugh about how crazy it all is, and how I have about zero modesty left to hold onto after all of this.
I wonder if dh still thinks I look good in a hospital gown now that he got to see a nurse draw black circles on my butt under fluorescent lights. Hm. He can be weird one, so maybe...
We are out of there by about 1pm.
I am very specific about what I want to do next. We go to McDonald's drive-through and then go sit by the marina and I take a nap after consuming hamburgers and frenchfries.
I feel exhausted but I'm sure it's not because of the retrieval; it's all of the stress and emotion leading up to today.
But things look hopeful. Dh said that the dr. came in very excited to tell him that she retrieved 6 eggs. Two are really really nice, one is ok, and the others are pretty small. He said she had an air of "yes! I decided on the right action plan here!" I like this. She's very smart, so I take some hope in her optimism.
When he gets home tonight I am going to ask him to tell me the story again.
Two good eggs. A bunch of fresh spermies. Let's see what they can do over night.
9.30 on the road -- lots of traffic, unfortunately.
10.30 check in, exactly on time
10.45 go up to the magic floor and get taken into the magic room. Dress in hospital gown, dh says that it's weird how I always look so good in hospital gowns. I don't think he was joking. Hm.
11am very handsome anesthesiologist comes to chat with us, asks about my somewhat complicated medical history. Why are all anesthesiologists good looking? Is this like a rule when interns apply to particular specialties? It's kind of strange. As handsome anesthesiologist walks away dh looks slightly freaked and said that he forgot about the health risks (I have some heart weirdness which mildly increases those risks, but not a big deal). That was sweet.
11.05am dh leaves to do his part of the deal and I go into the procedure room. My wonderful doctor shouts out across the hall, "hi!" as I'm on my way in. I love her. About 10 people (so it seems) are all squeezed into this rather small dark room and are arranging me on a skinny short bed with scoops to hold my knees up and very spread apart. Lots of monitors hooked up to me, lots of tubes and wires and blankets. I remember the cute anesthesiologist commenting on my cold hands and asking a nurse to get me a warm blanket. My wonderful doctor gets me all arranged, I make some comment about how I think I like the traditional method better than all of this, they chuckle. I wonder how many people say that. I also made some comment about my "litter"... how many people joke about that too? I remember nothing else.
12pm I am having weird but not unpleasant dreams as I wake up in a curtained-off recovery area with polka dots. I close my eyes and go back to happy-ville. My wonderful doctor comes in, is very happy and very close to my face. I can't remember what she said but the memory of her smiling face is nice. Wake up again a little later and a nurse and the handsome anesthesiologist are there, we chat for a while about drugs and being in a good place. He tells me about how some patients have sex dreams on those drugs, and others get really chatty and a bit too honest. I asked if I was one of those, and he said no. Hm.
The super nice nurse who taught my injections and IVF class brings me crackers and some gingerale and juice -- she mixes the juice and gingerale and it tastes wonderful.
Dh comes in, they bring him a chair. I'm feeling really good, no pain, just an awareness of my ovaries.
We all chat, get the info from the super nice nurse about what all to expect, what happens next, etc. We ask a lot of questions and she's great about answering them all very patiently.
I sit up. Get monitored a lot more. Nurse starts to remove all the heart monitors and tubes. I then get to stand up, undo my hospital gown while she kindly draws big black circles around where I need to do my progesterone shots when I start those on Thursday.
We all laugh about how crazy it all is, and how I have about zero modesty left to hold onto after all of this.
I wonder if dh still thinks I look good in a hospital gown now that he got to see a nurse draw black circles on my butt under fluorescent lights. Hm. He can be weird one, so maybe...
We are out of there by about 1pm.
I am very specific about what I want to do next. We go to McDonald's drive-through and then go sit by the marina and I take a nap after consuming hamburgers and frenchfries.
I feel exhausted but I'm sure it's not because of the retrieval; it's all of the stress and emotion leading up to today.
But things look hopeful. Dh said that the dr. came in very excited to tell him that she retrieved 6 eggs. Two are really really nice, one is ok, and the others are pretty small. He said she had an air of "yes! I decided on the right action plan here!" I like this. She's very smart, so I take some hope in her optimism.
When he gets home tonight I am going to ask him to tell me the story again.
Two good eggs. A bunch of fresh spermies. Let's see what they can do over night.
Monday, June 14, 2010
1800 pg!!!
So, it's a go for tomorrow morning. Please send all the good luck vibes you can spare -- 11am Pacific Time/2pm East Coast.
what a crazy crazy world... if I actually get a baby out of this it would make some sense. Nothing I do ever happens without some "wonky" involved. I sure hope we are passed the worst part of it though.
what a crazy crazy world... if I actually get a baby out of this it would make some sense. Nothing I do ever happens without some "wonky" involved. I sure hope we are passed the worst part of it though.
This must all be a joke
Do you ever get that out-of-body feeling, like you are watching all of this happen to yourself in a very realistic dream, all the while thankful that you get to wake up and make it not real? Like this is just a joke, a bad joke, and have a slight sense of relief that it isn't really happening. Someone will come up to you and say, "oops -- my bad, you actually ARE pregnant and will have a beautiful baby girl/boy!" And you can sit back and go, "schew... I'm so glad I don't really have to go through all the IF stuff. That would totally suck!"
When I got pregnant fairly easy two years ago I was grateful. I was continually thankful that I could get pregnant. I KNEW about IF and KNEW I was lucky. But that didn't protect me from the bad luck of ending up in this damn place. There is no greater force out there dolling out good and bad proportionately and as deserved. Being appropriately grateful apparently doesn't protect you from bad stuff.
So here I sit on Monday, June 14th waiting to hear the results of my latest blood test. And this is what hangs in wait:
1) if my estradiol levels are much higher than yesterday I do IVF retrieval tomorrow morning, with three somewhat wonky follicles.
2) if my estradiol levels are about the same as yesterday, we screwed up with the stims and only one follicle is mature and there's something wrong with it.
I have about 4 emails I need to send to schedule meetings for this week and I have them all on hold, waiting to see if everything gets canceled for the cycle and I can pack my week full of work.
I have that eery feeling that something is wrong. I just know it will be bad news this afternoon, and no one is going to wake me up and tell me that this is all just a big mistake. This really is my life, no matter how surreal it all is.
When I got pregnant fairly easy two years ago I was grateful. I was continually thankful that I could get pregnant. I KNEW about IF and KNEW I was lucky. But that didn't protect me from the bad luck of ending up in this damn place. There is no greater force out there dolling out good and bad proportionately and as deserved. Being appropriately grateful apparently doesn't protect you from bad stuff.
So here I sit on Monday, June 14th waiting to hear the results of my latest blood test. And this is what hangs in wait:
1) if my estradiol levels are much higher than yesterday I do IVF retrieval tomorrow morning, with three somewhat wonky follicles.
2) if my estradiol levels are about the same as yesterday, we screwed up with the stims and only one follicle is mature and there's something wrong with it.
I have about 4 emails I need to send to schedule meetings for this week and I have them all on hold, waiting to see if everything gets canceled for the cycle and I can pack my week full of work.
I have that eery feeling that something is wrong. I just know it will be bad news this afternoon, and no one is going to wake me up and tell me that this is all just a big mistake. This really is my life, no matter how surreal it all is.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
the recipe in me
Thanks so much for your encouragement and empathy. I love you all.
My dr was in the office today, so even though she wasn't supposed to be in clinic this weekend, she made a point to come see her patients who came in.
That was really good. We wanted to know if I'm just not a good candidate for IVF and to hear good practical advice.
She said that my current cycle confuses her, along with my last one. Apparently I usually have about 7 antral follicles, which would suggest that I'd have 5-9 mature during stims. It's really weird that only 3 did the first time, and only one this time. She thinks that if we don't do BCPs or regular does lupron next time around then I won't be over suppressed, which seems to be the problem. As you all predicted.
Alternatively, my eggs are just low-quality and only 1-3 can successfully mature during any given cycle.
We were at a different office today, and the sonogram is better at this one. There are a couple of smaller follicles lagging behind, so we are stimming again today and going in tomorrow morning for another look. If by some miracle they've caught up, we'll go ahead with IVF on the three. If not, we'll do IUI on Tuesday.
The tough thing about IUI is that we are the couple that can't bd every day due to various reasons... so there is always that timing issue. I think I've got dh to agree to try 48 hours, so we'll do 48 hours three times in a row and hope we get the timing right somehow. There is something about knowing my little egg can only survive maybe 12 hours that freaks me out for IUI timing. Oof.
She could tell we were about at the end of what we can deal with, but said that from her perspective we hadn't gotten to see what my eggs are like and all the other stages of IVF. So we really don't know the likelihood of IVF working for us. She suggests that, if this cycle doesn't work, we try one more before giving up.
I think I'm ok with that plan. And I won't freak out about the schedule of the next round until tomorrow afternoon, as it looks like I'll be in Paris for that meeting I scheduled a long time ago which of course will happen right when I should be stimmimg if we do back-to-back cycles. But alternatively, I could take the next cycle off and also go see my parents, during which time I will really need to drink martinis and coffee. They have no idea about any of this, and I have no intention of telling them.
My dr was in the office today, so even though she wasn't supposed to be in clinic this weekend, she made a point to come see her patients who came in.
That was really good. We wanted to know if I'm just not a good candidate for IVF and to hear good practical advice.
She said that my current cycle confuses her, along with my last one. Apparently I usually have about 7 antral follicles, which would suggest that I'd have 5-9 mature during stims. It's really weird that only 3 did the first time, and only one this time. She thinks that if we don't do BCPs or regular does lupron next time around then I won't be over suppressed, which seems to be the problem. As you all predicted.
Alternatively, my eggs are just low-quality and only 1-3 can successfully mature during any given cycle.
We were at a different office today, and the sonogram is better at this one. There are a couple of smaller follicles lagging behind, so we are stimming again today and going in tomorrow morning for another look. If by some miracle they've caught up, we'll go ahead with IVF on the three. If not, we'll do IUI on Tuesday.
The tough thing about IUI is that we are the couple that can't bd every day due to various reasons... so there is always that timing issue. I think I've got dh to agree to try 48 hours, so we'll do 48 hours three times in a row and hope we get the timing right somehow. There is something about knowing my little egg can only survive maybe 12 hours that freaks me out for IUI timing. Oof.
She could tell we were about at the end of what we can deal with, but said that from her perspective we hadn't gotten to see what my eggs are like and all the other stages of IVF. So we really don't know the likelihood of IVF working for us. She suggests that, if this cycle doesn't work, we try one more before giving up.
I think I'm ok with that plan. And I won't freak out about the schedule of the next round until tomorrow afternoon, as it looks like I'll be in Paris for that meeting I scheduled a long time ago which of course will happen right when I should be stimmimg if we do back-to-back cycles. But alternatively, I could take the next cycle off and also go see my parents, during which time I will really need to drink martinis and coffee. They have no idea about any of this, and I have no intention of telling them.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Yesterday
Yesterday the husband and I planned to take the day off from work to belatedly celebrate our anniversary. We usually go out of town for 2 nights to celebrate properly, but this year the date fell exactly on the day of graduation, when my first PhD student was finishing. I couldn't miss it, plus we were throwing a big party at our house for her and her visiting family. So our anniversary trip, that has become sacred, was sidelined until yesterday.
And with the upcoming IVF timing and appointments and injections, it had to be shortened to just a day off from work rather than an out-of-town trip.
But the day started with a follicular monitoring visit in the morning.
I can hear you saying to yourself that this was not a good idea... cue in scary anticipatory music...
Yes, foreboding is the right emotion right now.
The news was not good. I have injected myself with 4 amps of Gonal-f and 2 amps of Menopur every night, and low-dose lupron twice a day. And the result? ONE FOLLICLE. Yep, you heard right. One.
You might recall that there were three last time. Yes, that would be the last time when we canceled the IVF cycle for IUI because of my poor follicle count.
I do not like this. I hate this actually. I am so tired of feeling like a failure, so out of control, such a loser. I hate not being able to have something I want so much. I hate that my body's response has no apparent correlation to anything that I do. I hate that in the last 6 months we have only attempted to get pregnant once (a failed IVF attempt) and spent the rest of the time getting ready for IVF, the surgery, the getting rid of cysts, etc. I hate that I can't even manage to succeed at trying the last desperate attempt to conceive with IVF. I am tired of trying so hard and yet failing. I am tired of feeling bad. I am tired of not liking my body. I have had enough.
The appointment was not with my regular doctor. This dr was not very committal to any interpretation, understandably. But he clearly thought this was a loser cycle. He said he'd convey the information to my doctor and that I'd at least hear from a nurse later that day. Yesterday.
My dear significant other and I walked to the car. We hardly said a word, and I cried quietly the entire way to the zoo (where we had planned to spend our day off).
But then I was tired of crying. Tired of being sad. Tired of being infertile.
We walked around the zoo, ate some yummy macaroni and cheese for lunch, and then took a nap on the bench in front of the chimpanzees. Both of our brains needed time to process.
The nurse did call, a nurse I don't know. And she just told me to continue all the drugs I'm on and come in on Saturday for another sonogram and blood test.
We didn't really talk much about it, but the husband was clear that he wanted to talk to the doctor about the variance in follicular response from one cycle to the next. We can't make any decision until we get that information, apparently.
We talked about the logistics of converting this to IUI. For the one follicle.
To be honest, I think I want to give up. I think I want to go back to my "don't really care about kids" state. I don't want to feel like a failure any more. I want to work out again, hard and often. I want to get rid of this softness my body has gained over the last 2.5 years of TTC, a time in which I was constantly afraid to exercise much or restrict my eating much. I want to love my body again instead of seeing it as a failure. I want to be strong physically. I want to feel good. I don't want to be a loser anymore.
The animals were wonderful. The margaritas in the sun were wonderful. We avoided the IF topic and escaped a little from reality.
We got home rather late to find a reminder of work b.s. in the mail, and it brought us back harshly to the reality of our lives. All of it. We sat on the couch. Husband, feeling incredibly frustrated by work, says, "If we could have a baby it would give us something wonderful to focus on, and really diminish how frustrating all this stuff at work is. It would change everything." The sincerity in his eyes was unnerving.
I said nothing. I patted his leg. Got up. Washed my face. Mixed my fertility drugs and took my shots. And went to bed to read about the Watership Down rabbits. I chose not to let that sink in. I chose not to relish in the pain.
Dear husband came to bed a little later and we made love, partly because it was our anniversary and partly to get ready for an IUI in a few days.
And with the upcoming IVF timing and appointments and injections, it had to be shortened to just a day off from work rather than an out-of-town trip.
But the day started with a follicular monitoring visit in the morning.
I can hear you saying to yourself that this was not a good idea... cue in scary anticipatory music...
Yes, foreboding is the right emotion right now.
The news was not good. I have injected myself with 4 amps of Gonal-f and 2 amps of Menopur every night, and low-dose lupron twice a day. And the result? ONE FOLLICLE. Yep, you heard right. One.
You might recall that there were three last time. Yes, that would be the last time when we canceled the IVF cycle for IUI because of my poor follicle count.
I do not like this. I hate this actually. I am so tired of feeling like a failure, so out of control, such a loser. I hate not being able to have something I want so much. I hate that my body's response has no apparent correlation to anything that I do. I hate that in the last 6 months we have only attempted to get pregnant once (a failed IVF attempt) and spent the rest of the time getting ready for IVF, the surgery, the getting rid of cysts, etc. I hate that I can't even manage to succeed at trying the last desperate attempt to conceive with IVF. I am tired of trying so hard and yet failing. I am tired of feeling bad. I am tired of not liking my body. I have had enough.
The appointment was not with my regular doctor. This dr was not very committal to any interpretation, understandably. But he clearly thought this was a loser cycle. He said he'd convey the information to my doctor and that I'd at least hear from a nurse later that day. Yesterday.
My dear significant other and I walked to the car. We hardly said a word, and I cried quietly the entire way to the zoo (where we had planned to spend our day off).
But then I was tired of crying. Tired of being sad. Tired of being infertile.
We walked around the zoo, ate some yummy macaroni and cheese for lunch, and then took a nap on the bench in front of the chimpanzees. Both of our brains needed time to process.
The nurse did call, a nurse I don't know. And she just told me to continue all the drugs I'm on and come in on Saturday for another sonogram and blood test.
We didn't really talk much about it, but the husband was clear that he wanted to talk to the doctor about the variance in follicular response from one cycle to the next. We can't make any decision until we get that information, apparently.
We talked about the logistics of converting this to IUI. For the one follicle.
To be honest, I think I want to give up. I think I want to go back to my "don't really care about kids" state. I don't want to feel like a failure any more. I want to work out again, hard and often. I want to get rid of this softness my body has gained over the last 2.5 years of TTC, a time in which I was constantly afraid to exercise much or restrict my eating much. I want to love my body again instead of seeing it as a failure. I want to be strong physically. I want to feel good. I don't want to be a loser anymore.
The animals were wonderful. The margaritas in the sun were wonderful. We avoided the IF topic and escaped a little from reality.
We got home rather late to find a reminder of work b.s. in the mail, and it brought us back harshly to the reality of our lives. All of it. We sat on the couch. Husband, feeling incredibly frustrated by work, says, "If we could have a baby it would give us something wonderful to focus on, and really diminish how frustrating all this stuff at work is. It would change everything." The sincerity in his eyes was unnerving.
I said nothing. I patted his leg. Got up. Washed my face. Mixed my fertility drugs and took my shots. And went to bed to read about the Watership Down rabbits. I chose not to let that sink in. I chose not to relish in the pain.
Dear husband came to bed a little later and we made love, partly because it was our anniversary and partly to get ready for an IUI in a few days.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Three a day puts a baby in the bay?
Ok, kinda lame but I thought I'd try for cute.
Tomorrow I start my injections phase for the upcoming IVF. I get to take a microdose of lupron (20 units) in the morning and another in the evening. In evening I also get to take a shot that will contain 4 amps of Gonal-f and 1 amp of Menopur. That's three shots a day!
Imagine all the bruises my belly will get with this regime. It was bad enough with one shot a day.
Is it just me or do these bruises take a really, really long time to go away? It's been over a month since I had a shot and yet you can still kind of make out two bruises on either side of my belly button. Very attractive.
My current schedule is to do a retrieval sometime around June 13-16 and transfer 2-3 days later.
So many things to go wrong... but work has been crazy and the politics were outrageous today. I really dislike the stress and anger this causes me, but the bright side is that it really does distract me from the IF frustrations. But since stress is overall BAD for conceiving, sometimes the work BS just pisses me off even more. Oof.
Tomorrow I start my injections phase for the upcoming IVF. I get to take a microdose of lupron (20 units) in the morning and another in the evening. In evening I also get to take a shot that will contain 4 amps of Gonal-f and 1 amp of Menopur. That's three shots a day!
Imagine all the bruises my belly will get with this regime. It was bad enough with one shot a day.
Is it just me or do these bruises take a really, really long time to go away? It's been over a month since I had a shot and yet you can still kind of make out two bruises on either side of my belly button. Very attractive.
My current schedule is to do a retrieval sometime around June 13-16 and transfer 2-3 days later.
So many things to go wrong... but work has been crazy and the politics were outrageous today. I really dislike the stress and anger this causes me, but the bright side is that it really does distract me from the IF frustrations. But since stress is overall BAD for conceiving, sometimes the work BS just pisses me off even more. Oof.
Monday, May 31, 2010
A 30% chance
I went out of town at the end of last week on a small business trip for dh, that combined with a visit to his parent's.
His folks are quite elderly (in their 80s) but still living on their own, driving, etc. They are remarkably healthy, but it is very very clear that this is tenuous and not something to rely on for the long-term. They also live about an 8 hour drive away from us. We would like to change their living situation so that they are either closer to us or in a less strenuous situation or better yet, both. But understandably it would be very hard to get them to move away from their current situation with the admission that things are just getting too hard to maintain.
But if we had a baby we could ask them to move closer to share in the baby's life. They would likely do this in a heartbeat, as it solves so many issues with a very positive move for the future.
Dh and I talked a bit on the long drive and decided to let the summer unfold around the baby project, and if we can get the timing to work, to maybe try two IVFs. It looks like we might be able to make the money thing work out, and gives us double motivation for a stay-cation.
I've been thinking lots about how you all responded so overwhelmingly with the vote for HOPE, and you are right. I believe that there is a psychological effect on our bodies, and maybe if I have hope it will wash over my ovaries and uterus and anything else important in this IVF process and increase the odds that it will work. And I will temporarily stop my mental bitter conversion of the "nursery" into my home office. I'll let it sit in happy limbo, with hope that there will be a cute mobile over a crib in there one day.
I took my last BCP yesterday and will sit down this evening or tomorrow to plan out something for every single day of the next few weeks that will be healthy and positive for me, all aimed at increasing the success of the IVF. I will do this right, so that my hope just might make the difference.
My doctor said there is a 30% chance (or a little less, to be honest) that this will work.
There was a 30% chance that BP's "top kill" wouldn't work, and it didn't.
So, things do happen with a 30% probability, and I might finally have a little bit of luck. And if we do IVF twice, that actually might get us a 50% chance of success by the end of the summer.
So my bloggie sisters, I'm jumping into 30-50% hope with both feet. I'll keep you posted on the plan for daily-hope-building.
His folks are quite elderly (in their 80s) but still living on their own, driving, etc. They are remarkably healthy, but it is very very clear that this is tenuous and not something to rely on for the long-term. They also live about an 8 hour drive away from us. We would like to change their living situation so that they are either closer to us or in a less strenuous situation or better yet, both. But understandably it would be very hard to get them to move away from their current situation with the admission that things are just getting too hard to maintain.
But if we had a baby we could ask them to move closer to share in the baby's life. They would likely do this in a heartbeat, as it solves so many issues with a very positive move for the future.
Dh and I talked a bit on the long drive and decided to let the summer unfold around the baby project, and if we can get the timing to work, to maybe try two IVFs. It looks like we might be able to make the money thing work out, and gives us double motivation for a stay-cation.
I've been thinking lots about how you all responded so overwhelmingly with the vote for HOPE, and you are right. I believe that there is a psychological effect on our bodies, and maybe if I have hope it will wash over my ovaries and uterus and anything else important in this IVF process and increase the odds that it will work. And I will temporarily stop my mental bitter conversion of the "nursery" into my home office. I'll let it sit in happy limbo, with hope that there will be a cute mobile over a crib in there one day.
I took my last BCP yesterday and will sit down this evening or tomorrow to plan out something for every single day of the next few weeks that will be healthy and positive for me, all aimed at increasing the success of the IVF. I will do this right, so that my hope just might make the difference.
My doctor said there is a 30% chance (or a little less, to be honest) that this will work.
There was a 30% chance that BP's "top kill" wouldn't work, and it didn't.
So, things do happen with a 30% probability, and I might finally have a little bit of luck. And if we do IVF twice, that actually might get us a 50% chance of success by the end of the summer.
So my bloggie sisters, I'm jumping into 30-50% hope with both feet. I'll keep you posted on the plan for daily-hope-building.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
I lost my cool
Yesterday dh had to go in for another blood test for our IF project. He needed to update his infectious disease test just in case our next IVF gets canceled for an IUI and he needs to donate (we are doing ICSI for the IVF, so have some guys on ice already).
Since it was Saturday we went to the only clinic nearby that was open, and it happened to be the one I went to moments after my miscarriage diagnosis/confirmation when I needed an HCG baseline to make sure I miscarried completely (nice).
That horrible Friday afternoon of the miscarriage, things had to happen kind of fast b/c of the weekend, and so I had to keep my shit together. The guy who drew my blood very happily asked if I was pregnant and I had to say "no, I just had a miscarriage". He didn't say anything back. Can you say "awkward". I bet he never does that anymore I walked outside, called dh, and then completely lost it. That was one of the harder things I've ever had to do, keep from crying in that clinic b/c I knew I wouldn't be able to stop once I started.
So yesterday morning brought back memories, compounded by my creative deduction that a woman in line behind us was there for the same reason I had been, or some other IF related thing. She wasn't happy, and needed an HCG and progesterone test.
I tried really hard not to let it get to me, and I haven't cried in weeks, and maybe even a good month or so. But we went out for brunch afterwords and I had zero patience. And then on the drive to the hardware store dh was pretty emphatic that he didn't want me to get a puppy (something I've been thinking very seriously about since Maddy suggested it the other day and it sounds like an great idea). I turned to him and just freaked out about how lonely I am. I could not stop crying. He was kind of pissed, as it drives him nuts when I am really sad and there is nothing he can do to fix it.
I did pull it together eventually and we bought some beautiful pots for the backyard for much less than we anticipated. But all the colorful pots and sunflowers in the world have a hard time chipping through the reality of IF.
Since it was Saturday we went to the only clinic nearby that was open, and it happened to be the one I went to moments after my miscarriage diagnosis/confirmation when I needed an HCG baseline to make sure I miscarried completely (nice).
That horrible Friday afternoon of the miscarriage, things had to happen kind of fast b/c of the weekend, and so I had to keep my shit together. The guy who drew my blood very happily asked if I was pregnant and I had to say "no, I just had a miscarriage". He didn't say anything back. Can you say "awkward". I bet he never does that anymore I walked outside, called dh, and then completely lost it. That was one of the harder things I've ever had to do, keep from crying in that clinic b/c I knew I wouldn't be able to stop once I started.
So yesterday morning brought back memories, compounded by my creative deduction that a woman in line behind us was there for the same reason I had been, or some other IF related thing. She wasn't happy, and needed an HCG and progesterone test.
I tried really hard not to let it get to me, and I haven't cried in weeks, and maybe even a good month or so. But we went out for brunch afterwords and I had zero patience. And then on the drive to the hardware store dh was pretty emphatic that he didn't want me to get a puppy (something I've been thinking very seriously about since Maddy suggested it the other day and it sounds like an great idea). I turned to him and just freaked out about how lonely I am. I could not stop crying. He was kind of pissed, as it drives him nuts when I am really sad and there is nothing he can do to fix it.
I did pull it together eventually and we bought some beautiful pots for the backyard for much less than we anticipated. But all the colorful pots and sunflowers in the world have a hard time chipping through the reality of IF.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The dreaded cyst
Yesterday I had my baseline appointment to start an IVF cycle, my first after the last one was cancelled.
I foolishly told dh that it was going to be uneventful, as what can go wrong in a baseline appointment?
roll in the evil sarcastic laugh at my naivete... heh heh heh
Yep, there they were, two big cysts on my left ovary that signals the end of the hope for an IVF cycle.
Cruel fucking joke.
So I started all of this very serious ART in December with the goal of having it all said and done in March. DONE. On to whatever was in store for me.
But NOOOOOOOOO. Why would that plan work out for me?
So I first had to deal with the septate uterus, which meant surgery after 20 days of some drug followed by 30 days of a really high dose of estrogen.
This was followed by the abject failure of an IVF attempt that yielded only 3 follicles, so we did an IUI. Which of course, did not work.
But then we were happy that we could take extremely expensive ganirelix to put off my next cycle by a week so that we could go on a long-ago schedule business trip (that I really couldn't miss). I paid over $1,000 for those drugs...
Only to find out yesterday that I think I was mis-instructed on how to take them, as the doctor seemed surprised when I said my ganirelix start date. I followed the nurses calendar to a T, including even doing a dissertation committee meeting by conference call while I waited for the Fed Ex to arrive with my new drugs.
So here I sit with the dilemma of having to decide how to play out my summer. Field work? Remember I was adamant that I'd go no matter what? Yeah, right. Now that "no matter what" includes the distinct possibility that I won't have even gotten to try ONE IVF. Fuck. I really, really, really hate IF.
But I love having you all here to listen and to help me lick my wounds.
I foolishly told dh that it was going to be uneventful, as what can go wrong in a baseline appointment?
roll in the evil sarcastic laugh at my naivete... heh heh heh
Yep, there they were, two big cysts on my left ovary that signals the end of the hope for an IVF cycle.
Cruel fucking joke.
So I started all of this very serious ART in December with the goal of having it all said and done in March. DONE. On to whatever was in store for me.
But NOOOOOOOOO. Why would that plan work out for me?
So I first had to deal with the septate uterus, which meant surgery after 20 days of some drug followed by 30 days of a really high dose of estrogen.
This was followed by the abject failure of an IVF attempt that yielded only 3 follicles, so we did an IUI. Which of course, did not work.
But then we were happy that we could take extremely expensive ganirelix to put off my next cycle by a week so that we could go on a long-ago schedule business trip (that I really couldn't miss). I paid over $1,000 for those drugs...
Only to find out yesterday that I think I was mis-instructed on how to take them, as the doctor seemed surprised when I said my ganirelix start date. I followed the nurses calendar to a T, including even doing a dissertation committee meeting by conference call while I waited for the Fed Ex to arrive with my new drugs.
So here I sit with the dilemma of having to decide how to play out my summer. Field work? Remember I was adamant that I'd go no matter what? Yeah, right. Now that "no matter what" includes the distinct possibility that I won't have even gotten to try ONE IVF. Fuck. I really, really, really hate IF.
But I love having you all here to listen and to help me lick my wounds.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
And then there were three...
I woke up at 3am with that awareness of infertility, the one that you hate because once your mind goes there it is so difficult to pull it back. And so difficult to go back to sleep.
I decided to dwell in overall misery rather than specifics and managed to fall back asleep relatively quickly.
But when the alarm went off to wake us up in time for our monitoring appointment, the dread was definitely still there. And the gloomy weather didn't help any.
Over coffee I explained to dh that I had a seriously bad feeling about today. He wonderfully listened and asked questions and participated in my unfounded and detailed worry, appearing to completely believe that I could actually know these things about my body (I'd convinced myself I ovulated early and lost all chances this cycle).
We made it to our appointment and he went into the wand room with me, which I love, even though once the guest chair was a bit too close to the door and he got a view of my hoochy being wanded that I cringe to think about. He was a little psychologically damaged from that one but will go in when I ask.
Sure enough, the news was not necessarily good, although it was nowhere near as bad as I had concluded it would be.
The news today is that one of the big little follies and the two little ones gave up and now there are three.
The good news? the three are all at just about exactly the same stage of maturity and looking nice.
The not-necessarily good news? The dr. thinks that three is probably not a good number to move forward with for IVF; she'd like to work with more to have more chance of success given the expense.
The suggestion? IUI.
The dilemma? dh HATES the swimmer donation process and doesn't do well with pressure. (we'd already frozen little guys to cover the IVF since we are doing ICSI.)
The wonderful reaction? dh seems to be basically ok with playing his role in an IUI this week.
The weird thing? I'm kind of totally ok with this, and maybe even happy about it.
I have three follicles that should mature all together, ovulate together on Thursday and be as close to combined with swimmers as was can do. Basically, this is like three months of trying all in one, but with the added boost that the sperm don't have to work as hard. Maybe that's kind of like 4 months of trying all in one go. That should get my odds up to like 15%.
And the additional perverted good news? I can go right into another try at the IVF immediately, we'll even start some estrogen before the end of the tww to get the next round of follicles going well.
The obstacle as of this minute? Dh and I both have to be out of town the first week of May, which I think would be our monitoring week. Have any of you ever used drugs to prolong the waiting stage so that you could go out of town for a week but not miss an entire cycle because of it?
I decided to dwell in overall misery rather than specifics and managed to fall back asleep relatively quickly.
But when the alarm went off to wake us up in time for our monitoring appointment, the dread was definitely still there. And the gloomy weather didn't help any.
Over coffee I explained to dh that I had a seriously bad feeling about today. He wonderfully listened and asked questions and participated in my unfounded and detailed worry, appearing to completely believe that I could actually know these things about my body (I'd convinced myself I ovulated early and lost all chances this cycle).
We made it to our appointment and he went into the wand room with me, which I love, even though once the guest chair was a bit too close to the door and he got a view of my hoochy being wanded that I cringe to think about. He was a little psychologically damaged from that one but will go in when I ask.
Sure enough, the news was not necessarily good, although it was nowhere near as bad as I had concluded it would be.
The news today is that one of the big little follies and the two little ones gave up and now there are three.
The good news? the three are all at just about exactly the same stage of maturity and looking nice.
The not-necessarily good news? The dr. thinks that three is probably not a good number to move forward with for IVF; she'd like to work with more to have more chance of success given the expense.
The suggestion? IUI.
The dilemma? dh HATES the swimmer donation process and doesn't do well with pressure. (we'd already frozen little guys to cover the IVF since we are doing ICSI.)
The wonderful reaction? dh seems to be basically ok with playing his role in an IUI this week.
The weird thing? I'm kind of totally ok with this, and maybe even happy about it.
I have three follicles that should mature all together, ovulate together on Thursday and be as close to combined with swimmers as was can do. Basically, this is like three months of trying all in one, but with the added boost that the sperm don't have to work as hard. Maybe that's kind of like 4 months of trying all in one go. That should get my odds up to like 15%.
And the additional perverted good news? I can go right into another try at the IVF immediately, we'll even start some estrogen before the end of the tww to get the next round of follicles going well.
The obstacle as of this minute? Dh and I both have to be out of town the first week of May, which I think would be our monitoring week. Have any of you ever used drugs to prolong the waiting stage so that you could go out of town for a week but not miss an entire cycle because of it?
Friday, April 2, 2010
It was him again...
Last spring dh and I went to see an RE for the first time. We met Dr. 1 and he seemed ok, did the scan and all of that, suggested IUI and sent us off to do a hysterosalpingogram or whatever the h@!! you call it.
What he forgot to do was to accommodate my heart murmur into the equation.
So dh and I take an afternoon off from work and march my fragile emotional self into the big city for my torture session. I get naked, sitting in the big scary room all by myself only to be told by a med student that he wouldn't do the test b/c I hadn't taken an antibiotic prophylactic. Huh? Now, I take these for dental appointments, which seems way silly b/c my murmur is just no big deal. But I got turned away with no warning, no one thought about this before I got there? The murmur wasn't any secret or anything.
Irrationally, of course, I was devastated.
I lost faith in that doctor b/c he couldn't be reached, hadn't planned ahead on any of this, etc. He didn't predict.
So we walked away from the medical world for about 7 months and relied on acupuncture and OPKs. Obviously, that natural strategy didn't work so well for us. Many reasons, and ALL of them stressful and hard on the marriage. dh is a bit older than me and so timed bd-ing is really stressful and always a bit of a fight. just my luck.
Come the end of December we decide to go back to the medical world, but to get a new RE at the same clinic (it's the best one around in my opinion, and less expensive since it's part of a medical school, and my insurance covers nothing).
We love the new RE, she's awesome to say the least.
And I felt lucky when I found out that she is the one doing scans this week and the retrievals and stuff next week -- perfect for my schedule.
But Dr. 1 was there this morning, and did my monitoring sonogram. It was weird. And I didn't like it.
Bad omen? in my case, most likely. The wonderful Dr.'s dad was having some health issues a couple of weeks ago, and so I worry that maybe she's had another family emergency. This would be horrible for her, and to be completely selfish, me too. I don't trust Dr. 1 to give me/my body the personal consideration that wonderful Dr. does.
But you all were right that I shouldn't give up hope on the number of follicles. My little ones are growing very slowly but two more showed up today. They are 11, 10, 10, 10, 7, and 6. That's six in total, and maybe they'll all get on the same page maturity-wise. That's better than 4.
I ordered more stims today, as it looks like I'll go a little longer than originally planned. Of course, if we are relying on my body to respond in a positive way, that's a risky game that generally leads to disappointment.
I'm not optimistic today, as you can see.
What he forgot to do was to accommodate my heart murmur into the equation.
So dh and I take an afternoon off from work and march my fragile emotional self into the big city for my torture session. I get naked, sitting in the big scary room all by myself only to be told by a med student that he wouldn't do the test b/c I hadn't taken an antibiotic prophylactic. Huh? Now, I take these for dental appointments, which seems way silly b/c my murmur is just no big deal. But I got turned away with no warning, no one thought about this before I got there? The murmur wasn't any secret or anything.
Irrationally, of course, I was devastated.
I lost faith in that doctor b/c he couldn't be reached, hadn't planned ahead on any of this, etc. He didn't predict.
So we walked away from the medical world for about 7 months and relied on acupuncture and OPKs. Obviously, that natural strategy didn't work so well for us. Many reasons, and ALL of them stressful and hard on the marriage. dh is a bit older than me and so timed bd-ing is really stressful and always a bit of a fight. just my luck.
Come the end of December we decide to go back to the medical world, but to get a new RE at the same clinic (it's the best one around in my opinion, and less expensive since it's part of a medical school, and my insurance covers nothing).
We love the new RE, she's awesome to say the least.
And I felt lucky when I found out that she is the one doing scans this week and the retrievals and stuff next week -- perfect for my schedule.
But Dr. 1 was there this morning, and did my monitoring sonogram. It was weird. And I didn't like it.
Bad omen? in my case, most likely. The wonderful Dr.'s dad was having some health issues a couple of weeks ago, and so I worry that maybe she's had another family emergency. This would be horrible for her, and to be completely selfish, me too. I don't trust Dr. 1 to give me/my body the personal consideration that wonderful Dr. does.
But you all were right that I shouldn't give up hope on the number of follicles. My little ones are growing very slowly but two more showed up today. They are 11, 10, 10, 10, 7, and 6. That's six in total, and maybe they'll all get on the same page maturity-wise. That's better than 4.
I ordered more stims today, as it looks like I'll go a little longer than originally planned. Of course, if we are relying on my body to respond in a positive way, that's a risky game that generally leads to disappointment.
I'm not optimistic today, as you can see.
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