Aftermath

I was lucky, I guess. Because I miscarried so early in my pregnancy, the miscarriage was much like a really heavy and long period. There were occasional twinges of discomfort, that could have been gas, but no real physical pain. Except for my heart breaking... I know people who have had miscarriages, and all of them mention the pain, although all of them were farther along than I was. I'm thankful for that, though. I wasn't home, so I would have been in a strange hospital with doctors I didn't know and I would have screwed up every one's vacation and I really didn't want to do that.



Every week I was going to have my blood drawn, waiting for the hcg levels to go down. It took over 5 weeks, but I was finally back to zero. Just in time for Thanksgiving and another period. RAH... DH and I talked about it and decided to wait until after the holidays to try again, although, I noticed mucus yesterday and we had sex on Friday and again yesterday, which were the first times since the IVF. He really wanted to have sex before my OB appointment on Wednesday, but I felt weird about going to the OB within hours of having sex... I would love to hear other people weigh in on that... I know the joke about the husband who wants to have sex, but the wife tells him she has a gynecologist's appointment in the morning, so he asks if she also has a dentist appointment... BTW, DH took a minute to get that joke - he is so cute!



Then we get to the doctor's office and she had just gone down for surgery. I was pretty pissed - they said they had tried to call, but they didn't have my cell phone number in their system correctly. So, I got put off until December 16th - In the middle of the day. I asked for a morning appointment or the last appointment of the day, but of course there wasn't anything available. I have to take more time off from work, but the thing that really upsets me is I had prepared myself to have to talk about the failed IUIs and the IVF and chemical pregnancy. I knew that I would cry, but I thought that I was ready and now I have to wait another two weeks and get myself ready again. It just pisses me off. But, if I had told her that I was pregnant, I am sure I could have gotten in sooner... I really wanted to change this appointment into a prenatal appointment.



And now we are in the thick of the holiday shopping season. My mil is in a rehabilitation nursing home. She fell at their house and wasn't cooperating with the hospital therapists, so they sent her to the nursing home. She doesn't take care of herself. She smokes, drinks tons on soda and is diabetic. She spends most of her day napping. When she fell, she fractured her elbow and they thought that she may have broken her hip, but, thankfully, she only cracked her pelvic bone. She will likely be in there for a few more weeks, but she hates it there. I worry about her going home, though, since she is having memory issues that could be dementia related to her diabetes not being under control or it could be Alzheimer's. She tells me that she will quit smoking when I get pregnant. After the IVF, she was still smoking, but she went into the hospital for breathing troubles and she did stop smoking for awhile, but says that since I'm not pregnant, she doesn't need to quit. And she doesn't understand why I get upset with her about that. She is killing herself, but she is smoking because I can't get pregnant. I just need to realize that she may not be around to see if we ever succeed, and that just makes me sad, since she had wanted another grandchild since I started dating DH.

So, off I go to Orlando, my favorite place in the world, with a miscarriage waiting to happen. It's hard to be so terribly depressed when you are heading off to a trip that you have been looking forward to since DH said "Maybe we can go to Disney for Halloween next year." And all I really wanted to do was stay in bed and hide from my body's betrayal.

I always try to get to the airport early. You never know when the lines will take forever, so better safe than sorry. My BIL actually missed a flight because he showed up at the airport (post 9/11) half an hour before his flight was scheduled to leave. From the San Diego airport. Dumb ass. Our airport always seems to run pretty smoothly, but you never know, so early - always early. Got to the gate about an hour and a half before my flight. Got a couple of text messages from baby sister/friend, who was on her way to Orlando from her home. It sucked that we were both up so early, but we were just anxious to get to our other sister/friend and to Mickey! With all of the flights that they cancel, you would think that less people are flying, yet they still oversell the plane and then try to bribe you with free flights (sorry - not on the way TO Disney - catch me on the way home). The gate agent kept making announcements, telling us that we couldn't board the plane until they had enough volunteers giving up their seats. Now, my mood, not being the best, this REALLY pissed me off. I didn't fuck up and sell too many tickets. I showed up on time to check in, don't try to hold me hostage in this shit hole when I am trying so hard to get to my happy place and I really NEED my happy place right now... What I didn't know until later was that I could have taken the two free round trip tickets and the other flight arriving at 1:00 in Orlando, since another friend, who I was supposed to meet in Orlando, to see how her vacation with her daughter and boyfriend was, but since the bf is afraid to fly, she and her daughter were driving back with him. I could have taken their offer and made the gate agent shut up, but she didn't let me know that they were driving back until I called her from the airport. Oh, well...

Now, I find it funny that so many airports have turned into malls. The first one that I saw that had really gone mall was the Pittsburgh airport when I went there for my loser uncle's third wedding to be there with my grandmother. I had an hour and a half to kill before my grandma's flight arrived and I couldn't believe all of the stores - I had a great time shopping while I was waiting. I didn't buy anything - too expensive, but still fun to shop. Well, of course, Orlando's airport has every store from every tourist trap in the area and then some! K & I had an hour or so to kill before baby sis' flight landed, so we ate lunch and shopped - ok, browsed, not shopped. Have to save all of my money for Disney... Must support the stockholders. Oh, wait - I AM a stockholder... Well, then - must support myself... Over lunch I told her all about the visit to the doctor and how crappy it all was and she just let me get it out of my system. You see, little sis had been through miscarriages before... Three of them. But she also has three beautiful kids and had no trouble getting pregnant. Not that I am bitter. Much. Really. Much.

So little sis arrives and I didn't cry. Really - I didn't. And then we were off. Girl's weekend! First we were stamping, then we were off to Sonic (mmmm... Sonic) and then we watched True Blood. Little sis kept covering her eyes at the best parts - called it soft core porn, but I thought it was fantastic! Who knew that Rogue from X-Men and Sam from the Starter Wife could be so hot! Wow! Must get HBO for next season! Then sleep and off to brunch with their dad and then, FINALLY, to Disney! For little sis' birthday! We had a shirt made for her that said "Hey Mickey! It's my birthday!" And then we got her a birthday pin, so from the front or the back, you could see it was her birthday. Evil, I know! And I did that when I thought I was pregnant... I knew she wouldn't hit me if I was pregnant. She still didn't hit me.

Suffice it to say, that I needed to be with the girls for the weekend. When the heavy bleeding started, they didn't try to make me feel better - they were just there. but, as much as I enjoyed being with them, I missed my dh horribly. And when he finally arrived, I told him that. The girls said I needed them, but I REALLY needed him. He was the only one who would feel the loss nearly as much as I did. I know he had been more cautious about my being pregnant, but he knew how much I wanted to be pregnant and how caught up I had gotten and I think he felt bad that I had been let down, even though I was the one who let myself down. We had a nice trip and on the flight back, they overbooked again and as soon as they offered two round trip tickets, I took their offer. DH & the munchkin went home (in business class, thanks to me) and I got stuck in some hotel with no bathtub (completely shooting my plans for an evening spent in the tub) next to a Waffle House. Too bad my DH had all of the cash. No Waffle House omlet for me. but, I did get two free roundtrip tickets out of the deal. I called the doctor's office to move my appointment to later in the day, but their ultrasound techs leave at noon, so they squeezed me in the next morning. Blood draw and ultrasound - still nothing to see on the ultrasound, but my hcg levels had started to go down, but slowly and I was still bleeding - I was on day 8 when I went to the doctor. At least I didn't need to have a D&C. But, still, FUCK...

Ultrasound

Friday morning I went to the doctor's office. First they sent me to have more blood drawn and then it was upstairs for the ultrasound. They called me back and I assumed the position and waited for the doctor and the ultrasound tech. I expected to be waiting for awhile, but to my surprise, they came in pretty quickly. Then the wand went where the wand goes and they started looking around. And saw nothing. No egg sac, nothing. They looked everywhere, to see if it was maybe ectopic, but couldn't spot anything. And they kept looking. And it felt like they were trying to move the wand sideways, but still - nothing. They they did the external ultrasound and, guess what? Nothing. Finally, they were done with me, told me to get dressed and they would talk to me. What was there to talk about? They found nothing. Clearly there was nothing to talk about.



I wasn't in the consult room for long when Dr. K and the nurse came in. He reviewed what we knew. My numbers had plateaued and there was so egg sac in or around the uterus that they could see. They gave me my options. The meds to make me miscarry, a D&C or we could just let me miscarry on my own. Great choices. My choice should have been where to have a baby, not where not to have a baby. I reminded them that I was leaving for vacation the next morning and told them that I would prefer to just miscarry on my own. Dr. K asked when I would be back, so I told him that I would be back in 10 days. He told me that he was still a bit concerned about an ectopic pregnancy. I asked what the chances were of an ectopic pregnancy causing anything to burst in the next 10 days and he said 10%. I told him that I was going on vacation and I would be back for a scan the day I came back, since 10% wasn't going to stop me. He was also kind enough to inform me that what happened to me only happens in 1% of patients. Lovely... Lucky me - 1%. I didn't know if that was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn't. He gave me the name of a doctor that he knows at a hospital near Disney World - the hospital that I would go to if something happened while I was there. They also gave me a copy of the hcg levels and the dates of those numbers, so any doctor looking at them would understand where I was in the pregnancy when the numbers started to go wonky.


I left their office and sat in my car and cried. I texted dh to let him know that we didn't see anything, so, of course, he called and all I could do was cry. Normally, this close to a Disney vacation, I can barely sit still - I am so excited, but now, I just don't even want to go... Not a great vacation - go to Disney to have a miscarriage... Not the plan I had for the week. And then I had to go to work. FUCK... Not what I wanted to deal with, but I couldn't call in - I had the next six days off - I couldn't not go. FUCK... Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go. RAH.

I made it through most of the day without crying at anyone, until my partner in crime came into work and asked if I was having a good day or a bad day. I just shook my head, because it was all I could do... She came over and gave me a hug and started telling me funny stories to make me laugh instead of cry. She is really good at that! It never fails - I can always count on R! But then I sank back into my funk, since we both had work to do. When DH was done with work he called - I figured that he would be leaving for hunting, but he told me that he wanted to wait until I got home, so he could at least see me before he left. Say it with me.... AAAWWWW! It was really sweet of him, especially since I know how badly he wanted to go hunting and most of the time he would leave work at noon to go hunting. And I know plenty of hunters who would have left their wives in the same situation, so I was grateful that he waited the extra hour or so. Not that I could talk when I got home. And I was so attractive with the uncontrollable sobbing. But, I sent him on his way, cried some more and then packed and repacked and repacked again for my trip to Disney. I made sure to pack panty liners and pads of every size, but no tampons, since the nurse had specifically told me, no tampons.

And then I tried to sleep. My alarm was set for 5:00 am, since my ride was coming around 6, but with no DH and no dog at home, I had trouble falling asleep. I have friends who either live alone now or have lived alone. I have never lived alone. I don't think I could live alone. When I am alone (or just the dog is home) I talk to myself (or the dog). The silence creeps me out. Last year, when DH went hunting (but the dog was home with me) I was watching a creepy episode of Doctor Who (the one with the weeping angel statues... shiver...) and I swear that I heard someone walking around upstairs, but the dog was in the room with me... Creeped me out - I had a terrible time falling asleep that night... Anyways, no DH and he had taken the dog, so I was all alone in the house and as tired as I was, I couldn't fall asleep. I finally fell asleep after midnight and woke up before the alarm went off at 5! I dragged my bags downstairs and showered and while I was still getting dressed, my phone rang. My friend was already in front of the house and really needed the rest room! She didn't think of ringing the doorbell, I guess! So, off I was, to the airport.

Apparently barren

Thursday repeated the same routine as before. Get up early to go have blood drawn before I go to work. This week was my favorite phelbotomist's week of vacation, so I had someone new poking holes in me. It amazes me how people can have to be at work at 6 am and still be so nice. I am not a morning person, so I don't end up being to cheerful until about 11:30. And now that I have given up caffeine, I may not be cheerful then, either. There are people that I know who think that the words good and morning go together... And they are smiling and happy when they say it! I have a hard time understanding people like that. I guess if I slept, I might be a morning person, but about the only time I am happy in the morning is when I am at Disney World! So the new blood sucker was very nice - not a person you feel grumpy while talking to, no matter how much you hate mornings. Then off to work I went.



Around 3:30 the phone rang. It was the nurse and my number was 351. How do you not cry when you hear that instead of something in the 500 range at this point. I asked what that meant and that was when she said that it was only a chemical pregnancy. ONLY? It may clinically ONLY be a chemical pregnancy, but to me it was a pregnancy. No qualifiers. I was pregnant. They had scheduled me for an ultrasound for Friday morning, so we could try to see the egg sac, but now they just wanted to see if there was anything in the uterus or if it was an ectopic pregnancy. The nurse told me that Dr. K wanted to be there, so even though my appointment was at 8:30, the doctor might not get there until 9, but that they would get me out as soon as possible. I ran to the bathroom and just sobbed. I was so angry at how casual it all sounded coming from the nurse and how badly I wanted them to be wrong, and how my heart hurt in my chest and it hurt to breath and I wanted to throw up all at the same time. And I wondered what I had done wrong. My mother used to tell me I couldn't do anything right and it appears that she was right. I can't even do the most natural thing that women do (besides bitch, of course). My dh had his vasectomy reversed for nothing. And yet, they couldn't find anything wrong with me. I just couldn't talk about it, so I texted dh to tell him. And as soon as he could, he called. And I told him that I didn't want to talk about it. After that, I texted my sister/friends, telling them the number and telling them that I didn't want to talk. If I hadn't told them that, they would have been on the phone right away and I just couldn't take that. And then I e-mailed my boss to tell her that I know I told you that I would be in by 9:30 tomorrow, but I might be late. She e-mailed me to ask if everything was ok and I told her that I didn't know, which is why I needed to see the doctor and she let it drop.

That night, I was trying to go to sleep and I couldn't. I started crying and I just couldn't stop. I woke my poor dh up with my sobbing. He rubbed my back, but all I could do was cry more and now I felt even worse, because I was keeping him up, too. How could I explain to him what this all felt like? How hopeful I had been and how sad, hurt and angry I am that nothing was working. And how angry I am that it seems to easy for so many people around me, who then bitch about their kids or drop them off at their parent's house at every chance and that some of the worst parents I know were able to have kids and here I am, apparently barren. He might be able to understand some of it, but he already has a child - he knows that nothing is wrong with him. It's me who is broken and this whole process is just breaking me even more. How can he understand how it feels for me to see a pregnant woman or see someone with a baby or even hear people talking about their babies? He has one, and I am so jealous of him that sometimes I can't even stand it and how petty is that? How could he so easily have a baby with his ex-wife and not with me. And then I wonder if I wasted 15 years being on the birth control pill. Maybe I didn't need it after all.

Blood draw

The next morning, I got up early, so I could get my blood drawn and still make it to work on time. I have to tell you - I love the phlebotomist who is there early in the morning. She is so cheerful and nice and no matter how many patients she sees, she always remembers me. No matter how down I may be feeling, she never fails to make me smile. And that day was no exception. She chatted with me about my upcoming vacation and her upcoming vacation and I didn't even tell her that I thought the blood test was pointless, because I knew that she had been rooting for us to succeed. I nearly called the doctor's office to tell them that they didn't have to call when the test was negative - I already knew, but I just couldn't make that call. I spent the day cringing every time the phone rang and struggling not to cry. I had some very light spotting, but I didn't have more blood like I had been having.



And then the phone rang. Now, I am not one of those people who can leave a phone to ring and go into voicemail, so I answered and it was the less favorite of the nurses. And she is always so cheerful. She asked me how I was doing and I told her not too good, since I knew what the results of the test were. And that was when she told me that my hcg level was 14.4. She called it a low positive and I couldn't believe it. I asked her if she was sure and then I asked her what that meant - I mean, did it mean I was a little pregnant or not pregnant or what? She told me that under 2 was negative, but over 25 was positive and I was somewhere in between. She told me that we should be cautiously optimistic and that she wanted me in on Wednesday for another blood draw. At that point, I would have given gallons if she had asked me to! I couldn't believe it! I was almost pregnant! I spent the rest of the day talking to my uterus every chance I got. Telling the babies that they could do it and telling them that we wanted them so badly.



That night, even though my step daughter should have been with her mom, she was home and needed to go shopping for jeans and DH was in class, so I took her. While we were wandering the mall my sister/friend called - she is a nurse and she used to work Labor and Delivery, but now she works in the Cardiac unit. She yelled at me for being out at the mall and told me to go home and put my feet up and drink plenty of water, to keep my uterus hydrated! I told her we had a little more to do, but then I would. She told me that she had seen people start out with lower numbers than that and have perfectly healthy pregnancies and babies, so not to worry. A pair of jeans, a pair of capris and a winter coat later, we headed home, where I got a glass of water and planted myself on the couch.



Wednesday I went early again and got P, the fabulous phlebotomist. We chatted, she took blood and I was off to work, floating on air, still talking to my uterus, telling the babies that they had alot to look forward to after they were born. I anxiously waited for the nurse to call with more numbers for me to google! And then she did. Today's level was 44. I had more than tripled in two days. She said that it was good, so she wanted me to come back on Friday for more blood work. I was really going to keep the vampires in the basement of the hospital happy this week, but I was ok with that. I was now firmly over 25, which meant I was pregnant! I didn't go crazy - I didn't buy myself a maternity wardrobe or anything, but I found my hand resting on my stomach more and more and I wasn't as grumpy about feeling fat. After all, I wasn't just fat - I was pregnant! Originally, I had been scheduled for my annual exam with my OB, but when we realized when my IVF cycle was going to happen, I called to change the appointment, since they didn't want to risk anything happening this early in the game. When I changed my appointment, I made it for the day before Thanksgiving, figuring that it could easily be turned into a prenatal appointment from an annual exam. And then I pooped again and there was blood again. It made my stomach lurch, but I had my rising hcg levels. They had tripled in two days when they want them to double in three. That was good!



Friday's levels were 134! I had tripled in two days again! So I asked. When can we use the "p" word? And the nurse said that we could use it after we had seen the heart beat. When my LD sister hear that, she disagreed - she told me that I was pregnant now, they were just being cautious. She knew that the following Friday I would be having my first ultrasound and she called to make sure that I didn't think that I would see a heartbeat then, since it would be too soon. I told her that I knew that, but I was expecting to see the sac, firmly implanted in my uterus, which meant no roller coasters for me at Disney! And she said that she didn't care if we sat by the pool the whole time, as long as we were together and I was pregnant!


We went out of town to visit friends for the weekend, and, as hard as it was, I didn't tell them that I was pregnant. They knew that we were doing fertility treatments, though and I told them that we had progressed to IVF and were hopeful and then Monday I went back for more blood to be drawn. Now, I am a geek. I had been trying to figure out how the numbers should go. If I was tripling every two days, and these blood draws were three days apart, my number should have been in the mid to high 400s. When the nurse called to tell me that the number was 257, I wasn't thrilled, but I had almost doubled in three days, so maybe I was leveling out. At least that is what I hoped and they scheduled me for another blood draw on Thursday.


Tuesday night, I went to have acupuncture and M liked what he felt in my pulse. He said that it was the strongest slippery pulse he had felt on me yet, and that the tripling numbers could mean that I was having twins (he was particularly happy about that, since he is a twin!) and he wasn't too worried about doubling over the weekend - he was just happy for me! Weren't we all at that point?

Of the 14 eggs they harvested, I think 9 fertilized and when the lab left me a message at home on Monday, they told me that the transfer would take place on Friday. YEAH! I had read that day 5 transfers have a better chance of being successful, so I had been hoping for good enough results to go for a day 5, plus, that meant that the transfer would be on Friday, which meant only one day off of work! Ok, so I know I am a bit strange about not wanting to miss work, but that really isn't it - I only have so much time off, and even though I have plenty of time off, if I am REALLY given a choice, I would prefer to save it and take it after the baby is born instead of while trying to create said baby. I also called my acupuncturist, who normally has Fridays off and he told me that he had another patient who's transfer was the same day, but later than mine, so he would come stick me with needles on his way to stick her with needles and then, while her transfer was happening, he would come back and stick me with more needles and then go back to stick her with more needles! Now, my doctor chuckles and shakes his head when I mention acupuncture - he has even said that I will give my acupuncturist all of the credit if/when I finally do get credit. It seems funny to me that he is so uptight about my seeking other means of treatment, that compliment what he is doing, especially, since he is Asian - I know that is a stereotype, but he was born and raised there (I'm not sure where, although, he has books about Japan in his office, but I can't assume) My logic is that western medicine hasn't helped me, so I am giving eastern methods a chance to help. I think he is just jealous and my acupuncturist thinks it is funny! Although, the fellow who was visiting my doctor from the UK was telling him that she has read studies that show that with acupuncture, IVF treatments are more likely to be successful.



So, Thursday my sister/friends send me these beautiful flowers at work, to tell me that they love me and to wish me luck, which, combined with the hormones and nerves, just succeeded in making me cry. I do have pictures of the flowers, but I haven't mastered blogging, nevermind putting pictures in my blog, and since I am not sharing this blog with my IRL friends, I can't ask anyone. Friday dawns and I am nervous. My acupuncturist arrives and starts sticking me with needles and DH arrives home to take me to the hospital. DH and M, the acupuncturist had met before, when M came to give me acupuncture before an IUI that happened to fall on a Saturday last year (an acupuncturist who makes house calls - got to love him!) The needles make DH a bit queasy, though! Then off we went! We arrived at the hospital at 11:05 and there was another couple there. They looked pretty calm - I think it must have been the Valium. And then my Valium arrived. I had never taken Valium before, but after taking it that day, I can tell you that I understand why people love it! It wasn't long before I felt calm, too! :) They called us back (before the calm couple - I felt bad) and I went back into the room where the harvest had happened. The embryo doctor came in (I can't remember what kind of doctor he really is - but he was really nice) and he told us that we had 3 that were 4AA (that is really good) and one that wasn't graded that high (I can't remember what that one was, but I'm sure if it would apply itself, it's grade would have been better - at least that is what they always told me in school) There were also two more that didn't look as promising, but they were still working at getting better grades. We decided to transfer two, so off he went to put them into the catheter. And then I got to go back into the stirrups. In came the doctor and then, quicker than a quickie, in they were and I was technically pregnant... They had me lie there for half an hour and then they let me go home. And I didn't have to come back for over a week and that would be to have my blood drawn for a pregnancy test.


On our way home, I was still pretty mellow. Did I mention that I really like Valium? Well, I do. Haven't had any since, but if I have to do another transfer to get more... It may just be worth getting another transfer. Ok, so the baby would be the best result of having another transfer, but hey, I will take the meds that don't make my butt itch or leave my rear end leaking oil! And then we started using band aids, since the progesterone oil shots were bleeding, and I started reacting to the adhesive on the band aids. On my butt. And, I have to tell the phlebotomists to not use band aids, too, since I am having problems on my arms. Woo hoo...

Now, I am normally a couch potato, but three days of enforced couch potatoness really kind of sucked. Plus my step-daughter was around all weekend and I am sure she was wondering why I didn't leave the couch - not that she asked, but she had to be wondering. I'm not THAT lazy - really - I'm not! And every time I sneezed or coughed, I was worried that I was shaking the eggs loose, since that may have been THE moment that they were trying to implant. And the waiting continued. When I hadn't had spotting by 8 days after transfer, I was hopeful. But I had to poop really badly, but it always seemed like when I pushed to poop right before my period, it would end up bringing on my period, so I was scared to push. Stupid, huh? Well, when I hadn't had any evidence of spotting by day 9, I finally went and I pushed and when I wiped, there was blood - vaginal blood. I cried and crawled back into bed to sulk. And then I realized that I couldn't spend yet another day in bed, so I got up and started doing stuff around the house, debating whether I should actually go get my blood drawn the next morning or not.

to be continued...

Time for the harvest

So, after I talked to my boss, we had an appointment with the doctor for the pre IVF stuff. Another HSG with an intern and a Fellow from the UK in attendance, the consultation with the doctor, intern and the Fellow from the UK and the teaching session for all of the meds, where we learn about all of the drugs that I would be taking, where to inject them, how to mix them and when to start. What fun... To get into the September group, I had to get my period by August 21st. After years of hoping not to see blood when I wipe, quite suddenly, I am anxiously waiting for blood to appear! What a switch. They told me not to worry about not making the September group - I could always get into the October group. The problem was, that I had an out of town trip scheduled that I didn't want to cancel, and I really didn't want to have to wait that extra month. I understand that they don't want you to be on the pill for too long, but what if your period never synced up with the doctor's IVF schedule? So, I braced myself for having to cancel the trip, but hoped for blood every day. When I wasn't even spotting by August 20th, I called the nurse to talk to her. She told me that we may have a day or two leeway, but that the sooner my period started the better.

August 22nd, I saw blood! YEAH! So as soon as the office opened, I called the doctor's office. They told me to start the pill that night. We were on our way! August 31st I started the Lupron injections and on September 6th, I took my last birth control pill and waited for my period to start. My cycle started on September 9th and I went in for my day three scan on September 12th, which was also when I started my Folistim and Repronex shots. Got to love all of the intramuscular shots! My rear end looked like I had been attacked by mosquitos, but at least I didn't have much bruising. Every night, I would get the shot ready - mixing the Folistim with the Repronex and hand the syringe over to DH, who would grimace, swab where I pointed and ask me if I was ready... Every night I would tell him to just do it - don't ask... When you ask, it just makes it worse! September 17th I went in for my first scan and bloodwork. I already had five (or more) large follicles and several more that were coming along nicely. September 19th I went in again, and to everyone's surprise, I was ready for my hcg shot and the eggs would be harvested on Sunday! I was the first one of the September group to be ready. I knew I was an over-achiever in some way!

Now, I have heard about how some people react to the fertility meds, and when we did our first round of injectables, I warned my DH that things could get crazy, and by things, I meant me and my hormones! Well, don't hate me, but I didn't have those side effects. I didn't yell at anyone, I didn't cry at tv commercials, I didn't scream at anyone who didn't deserve it (really - I didn't) and I didn't have to figure out where to hide any of the bodies! What I did feel was bloated and full and a bit gassy, which (except for the gassy part) the ultrasound tech and the nurse assured me was perfectly normal. So, harvesting day comes and we had to be at the hospital by 7:30. I was so nervous about everything... Would they get enough good eggs, would my DH be able to give a good sperm sample (although, they had some in frozen, just in case), would they like each other? My mind was racing. We got there and found that we were the first ones there! Really the first ones there - the doctor and nurse and whoever else was going to be there weren't there yet! When everyone finally got there, they took me back to get me ready. An IV in the hand, pants and underwear in the closet, husband off giving his sample (ok, so does anyone notice that the men get the easier part of this? No shots, no stirrups, no doctor looking at you from the wrong end... Just saying...) Once the doctor got in the room, things got fuzzy. I remember hearing them counting through the haze and then suddenly, I felt some pain and the haze was gone! It felt like someone was snipping me inside. Oh, wait, they were! I remember trying to squirm away from the doctor (not really easy with the stirrups they had me in - they had knee stirrups, too - makes it much harder to move!) and having someone say that we were almost done and that I was doing really well. Things got fuzzy again and next thing I knew, everyone was gone and the nurse was bringing DH in.

They got 14 eggs and even though I tried to get away, she said I did really well. She asked me if I was thirsty and if I could handle some crackers and I suddenly realized that I was very hungry! She brought me the cutest little can of soda and some graham crackers. I ate everything that I could get my hands on and I was trying to drink the whole mini can of soda in one slurp. I was feeling a little woozy still, but happy that it was over and that we had gotten so many eggs. I barely stayed awake for the ride home - I kept nodding off, which is usually what DH is doing on long rides when I am driving, but I don't sleep in cars normally. Actually, I don't really sleep well at all, ever! I made it home and crawled up the stairs to go to bed, which is where I spent the rest of the day. Thankfully, no one called to check on me, or if they did, no one insisted on speaking to me - DH ran interference! When DH came to bed, I reminded him that I needed my shot - progesterone in a sesame oil. YUM! My friend said that it sounded more like a dish in an Italian restaurant than a drug! He went back downstairs and got my shot, while I fell back asleep, until he was ready to give me the shot, and then I was up for a bit. The next day I got up for work like nothing had happened! I actually felt well rested, which was no surprise considering that I had slept the whole day, except for two hours for dinner and struggling to stay awake on the couch, and then I slept through the night!

And now we wait to see how many eggs fertilized...

Happy Veterans Day

Ok, so I actually wrote this post last week, in my journal, but I am still trying to catch up. Almost there.

I don't feel happy, but I had been feeling better - less depressed, but perhaps it was the dreary day and the pregnant people around me, or hearing the accidental mom at work talking (loudly) about her son, or maybe it is just the hormones... Who knows. I guess you can't count on your depression to go away completely, just because you have a couple of not so bad days.

So, back to our story... I had been stressed out about getting the time off that I would need from work - 1 day for the retrieval and three days after the implanting. And I won't be able to give that much notice to my boss, since I won't get that much notice. When your follicles are ready to go, you take the shot and 33 hours later, you are back at the doctors office for retrieval! Then, depending on how the meeting goes (you know... the first meeting of egg and sperm. Do they like each other? Do they stay on different sides of the gym, like a Catholic School dance? Do the eggs beat up the sperm? Do the sperm think that the egg looks fat? Or is it love at first sight?) will depend on when you go back for the transfer - day three or day five. And by day three, they mean that day one is the day after the retrieval, just to make sure that we are all on the same timing page.

So, after much back and forth in my own head, and talking to my DH about it, I decide to talk to my boss and let her know what is going on. Two days after one of our really good people quit... Not the best time to ask to talk to the boss behind closed doors! So, I started with "Can I talk to you?" and followed very quickly with "I'm not quitting." to try to put her at ease. I sat down, opened my mouth to start speaking and I started crying. Not the sweet, ladylike tears that the ladies in the movies or on tv cry. NO. I was sobbing so hard, I couldn't even get the words out. She offered me her box of tissues as I produced by own handful out of my pocket. I told her that we have been trying to get pregnant for quite awhile and that, clearly, it hadn't worked. I told her that we had been trying before the last eight (yes - 8) babies had been born to people in our department and that we were now moving on to IVF. I explained that I would be needing days off and wouldn't be able to give her as much notice as I would like for those days and that I may not be able to avoid those days that are marked full on the department vacation calendar. She was so amazing about the whole thing, even though I could tell the sobbing had made her uncomfortable. She told me not to worry about the full days on the calendar - they had started making exceptions when people came asking for days off when the calendar was full and a medical reason would definitely be accepted, since some of the other exceptions that had been presented didn't really fall under what she considered a valid reason for requesting a day off on a full day.

All at once, some of the weight that had been making my shoulders it's home, was lifted! No more needing to be vague about my frequent trips to the doctor. No more worrying that my all important appointments would fall on full days. I can't even tell you how much better that conversation made me feel. And stress is bad when you are trying to get pregnant (which is why everyone tells you to stop worrying about it and stop thinking about it. I'm sorry, did you say something? I can't hear you over the ticking of my biological clock...), so this just improved my chances, or at least that is what I told myself.

December thru June

I know it seems strange that I didn't keep track of all of the IUI dates. I only kept track of one at a time, hoping that THIS one would be the one that would work, so it would be the only one that I NEEDED to know the date for. After school lets out in June, we take the munchkin and go on vacation. This year, we took one of her friends along. I had an IUI early in the month and was hoping to not get my period while we were on vacation, but of course, I did. Fucking rah... We already had an appointment for a consult with Dr. K for the beginning of July, since his time fills up pretty quickly and we figured if we were pregnant, we could just cancel the appointment. I had another scan, the meeting with the Dr and the teaching for the injectables. We were all set to go and I was hoping to get into the August group, so we just needed my next period to come and we could start the pill.

I have to wonder, though, has anyone ever thought that it just seems so counter productive to put us on the pill to try to get us pregnant? It just seems strange to me, but whatever they need to do...



So, I call when my period starts - like RIGHT when I see the first spotting of the cycle and they tell me to come in Thursday, but they don't have an early appointment, so I can't make it, since the time off schedule at work is full. I tell them that I can't come in until Friday - I mean, I can't pay for IVF if I get fired from my job, right? So the lady tells me that she will take a message for the nurse and she will call me back. I waited for a call all day on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I called back. She put me on hold and told me that the nurse wasn't available and asked if she could take a message. I told her that she couldn't, because I was afraid that it wouldn't be very nice and I hung up, near tears. I waited for the rest of the day and still no call. Thursday morning, I get to work and there is a message from one of the nurses, sounding all casual and not at all stressed out, telling me that since they can't get me in (that morning before work) that she guesses that we will just have to wait until the next cycle...

All I could do was cry. How can they so easily just make me wait another month? We've been trying for over three years and I've been wanting this for more than eight years and you tell me, so casually, that we should just wait another month? I was crushed. Can't they understand that my time is running out? I'm already 38 and my clock has been ticking for ten years! I'm going crazy from the ticking clock in my head. One month of not trying seems like forever. What if THAT is the month that I was supposed to conceive? I had had enough with my clinic. About a year ago, my OB had asked me why I wasn't seeing anyone at the clinic that is across the hall from her office. I explained that when we had started going to that clinic, the clinic across the hall from her wasn't there (which makes me mad, since they are in my network for insurance - not that my insurance covers everything, but it is covering some stuff, but they would have covered more if the doctor had been in network). But, with all of my frustration threatening to blow, I contacted them through their website, wondering if they would take a patient who was getting ready for IVF, but ready to switch doctors and waited for an e-mail response. I called my clinic and left a message for them that waiting another month was not acceptable. I didn't hear back from anyone until that night, after I got home from work. It was the other nurse who called me back, and when she didn't get me at work, she called me at home, where I was under the covers crying out my frustration, trying desperately not to get snot on my pillow (which is what the other nurse should have done the night before, instead of leaving me a message at work, but I digress). This nurse was really great and explained that the timing of my period made it impossible for me to be in the August group, since there wasn't enough time for me to be on the pill and all of the other meds prior to the week that they specifically schedule for the IVF patients. It didn't make me feel any better, but at least I understood that it was a medical thing and not the missing the day 3 scan by one day.

IUI on surgery day!

So, where was I? Oh, that's right - I had just had my DH's sperm inserted past my cervix and I was on my way to the hospital to have surgery! How could I forget?



I arrived at the hospital, which I had never been to before and I can't help but wonder if they will cancel becuase DH's sperm is going for the gold right then! I had told the RE's office that I was going into have surgery that day and they were not concerned as long as the surgeon wasn't concerned. I spoke to the admitting nurse and she told me that there was no reason to cancel. They wouldn't cancel if I had just had sex the night before, so they wouldn't cancel now.



***Breaking into the story now in progress... someone in the elevator at work, who is blissfully ignorant of the BQ (Baby Quest) asked me "How is L doing today?" I nearly responded "Moderately depressed and struggling to keep from crying everytime I see a happy pregnant woman, a newborn or any of the hordes of people who have gotten pregnant since we've been trying. And you?" Instead, I was able to control my inside my head voice and mumbled something non comittal in reply. The ones that you make to people who really don't know you and are just trying to be nice. Speaking of that, I have to tell you about the inquiry from a person who does know about the BQ and knows about the recent failure, who e-mailed me the other day "How you doing? I haven't had a chance to talk to you in a long time." Chances are, she had been avoiding me, since I responded to an earlier e-mail that things were NOT fine, but I digress. I responded to this e-mail with "I'm trying to hang in there, but some days are better than others and most of them I don't really feel like talking about any of it." Honest, yet not burdening her with all of it and not being bitchy, right? Her response? "I'm sorry, I think you mis-understood me. I wasn't specifically speaking of that as I didn't expect you to talk about that. I was speaking in general." THAT??? You must mean the miscarriage of the baby I wanted so badly... THAT. Huh. So I responded " I did understand... In general, I'm hanging in. There isn't much else happening in my life that doesn't revolve around babies and the lack of them in my house, so everything ends up back there for me." Ok, I admit it - it was bitchy, but come on... She didn't have all of the challenges having her daughter that we are having, but her brother and sil did. You know, now I think I understand why they never talked to her about it all... hmmm... I'm not normally that thick, but it took me this long to figure it out.



Ok, so back to the surgery last year. Things went smoothly, the surgeon was great, the anesthesiologist was great (no anesthesia hangover - YEAH!!!) and it wasn't a hernia! Surgery was so quick, that by the time DH came to get me, I just needed to get dressed and get discharged and I could go! So then I went home for a couple of days, back to work and just waited to see if the IUI worked. And, of course, it didn't.



To be honest, I've actually lost track of how many IUIs we've done and how many of those were without any meds, how many were with what dosage of clomid, but we did one with injectibles. DH wasn't too keen on doing the shots, but he was lucky. I did the folistim myself, in the abdomen and when it was time for the intramuscular shot of hCG, the nurse was able to do it. The scan were showing that my folicles were reacting well to the meds. I had 3 nice sized ones on one side and 1 nice sized one on the other. The nurse actually came running after me to make sure that I realized that not only could all of them fertilize, but that some or all could split. I told her that DH and I had discussed multiples and that we would be fine with it. We could just give them away on the corner. JK, although we have infertile friends who would be very willing to take one or two. JK again. I couldn't give anyone away... We didn't want to be John and Kate, but really - after almost 3 years of trying at that point, I would be thrilled taking home as many babies as possible! We would have to move as soon as anyone started walking, but we can handle anything. Ok - ALMOST anything. This no baby thing isn't being handled so well...

Step-monsterhood

Hell, I spent years on the pill because my first OB diagnosed me with PCOS and said that the pill woudl help me keep my ovaries from being damaged, so when I was ready to have children, my ovaries wouldn't be scarred and damaged from the cycsts and I would be able to ovulate and conceive... HA! Little did she know!


I saw a special called OMG! Sextuplets. The mom has PCOS and got pregnant with sextuplets through an IUI. The special made it seem like it was her first one, but she may have had previous ones that they just didn't show. Same thing with Kate. PCOS, IUI, pregnant with twins and when they decided to try for more, they got 6. And I can't even get one. Or 2. I don't need a team, basketball, hockey or football - I want a healthy baby. I'd love a boy, since DH has his girls, but just to be pregnant and be able to have a healthy baby to raise and watch grow... I've loved being a step-mother, but there are so many things that I get left out of - so many things that I can't be a part of becuase she isn't mine. I don't think D. will ever know that being her step-mom has made me want to be a mom even more than I wanted to before.

Election Day

I first wrote this post on election day, so you didn't miss some strangely moved election day or a time warp of any kind.

I got up early to vote. In a way, I don't really even care about the election, but I have always said that if you don't vote, you can't bitch. And I like bitching WAY too much, so I HAVE to vote. I owe it to myself and everyone else who can't to do what I can to try to make this country better.

It's hard to think about anything else, but the loss of the baby that I had wanted so badly. Strange that only wanna be moms and pro lifers would consider it a baby. Twenty years ago I wouldn't have. Hell, ten years ago I wouldn't have. But I wanted so badly to believe that we had finally been successful and then, once again, I failed. Today I came across a blog, and I am not sure about the rules of naming other blogs here, so once I check with that blogger, I will edit this post to name her blog. It chronicles the IVFs, pregnancy and parenting of a couple who were finally successful after several IVFs. I can't even imagine going through as many as they did (and I have since found blogs where her number is low. You ladies are amazing!) My mom's best friend did 10 cycles of IVF and was never successful. But that was back in the 80s and the success rates are better now, but I can't imagine her pain. Realizing that the one thing you have wanted and worked towards for so long will never happen to you. But, back to the blog... I think I love the woman who writes it! It made me realize how not alone I am and that I needed to write all of this journey down. I need to get it out of my system so we can try to start fresh after the new year, when we try again for another cycle.

So, back to the TTC beginning... We started our quest by having my DH's vasectomy reversed about 3 and a half years ago. After he healed, we started trying, and while it was fun, it wasn't successful, so due to by being in my mid 30s, after six months I spoke to my OB. She recommended that we have him checked, just to make sure his count was up to where it should be and she gave me a basal body temperature chart to track my cycle and try to improve our chances of conceiving. By the time I spoke to her, my DH had proposed and we were planning our wedding for the following summer, so we decided to wait until after the wedding to involve the doctors. I was REALLY hoping to anounce that we were expecting at our wedding... So, after the honeymoon, DH went and had his numbers checked and the motility wasn't where they wanted it to be, but the numbers were good. So, after consulting with the RE who shares the office with the Urologist, we decided to try an IUI. We tried a couple of rounds (sorry - the timeline here isn't exact - it was over 2 years ago) and clearly failed, so we ran some tests, the run of the mill ultrasounds, a hysteroscopy and a sonohystogram. There may have been more, but it just got to the point that I was just going where they told me to go, when they told me to be there and I had taken pain killers or not depending on what they told me. What they found was a fibroid and they told me that the fibroid could be the reason that we hadn't been successful. So it had to come out.

January 2007 - the surgery was scheduled, the time scheduled off from work, but only one person knew what those days were for, until a meeting the day before surgery, when someone asked what I would be doing on my very long weekend. So I told them. It was an interesting way to bring down a room! The laproscopic surgery went well and they were able to remove the fibroid. To do the surgery, they had to pump my abdomen full of air, so Dr. K warned us that I would likely have gas for a few days... HA! I fooled him - I ALWAYS have gas! But this gave me an excuse! The follow up appointments went well - we did more HSGs to see how things were healing and after a few months and removal of the stiches, we were ready for another IUI! I had been so impatient to get back to my BQ (Baby Quest) that even the HSGs didn't bother me. In fact, Dr. K told a group of interns that I was an excellent patient to observe (he said this to more than one group - this one and another one just recently - I was proud), since I have such a high pain tollerance. I have heard that many patients have trouble with the cramping, even after taking the recommended pain killers. I'm glad for my high tolerance, but I also wonder how those poor people will handle labor! I must admit to hoping for natural childbirth, if I am ever that lucky, but I will be the first one to ask for drugs if it gets that bad!

Then, last October, I noticed a lump in my abdomen. Just under the skin, it moved, but it didn't hurt and it was above my left hip bone, a bit towards the belly button. I went to a clinic and they had no idea. They would have thought that it was a hernia, but it didn't hurt when they touched it and moved it, so they sent me to a surgeon. When I went to see him, I explained that I was going through fertility treatments, which is why I was concerned. I also explained that I was on chlomid and getting ready for my next IUI, so we needed to figure out what this was and do it pretty quickly, since I would likely be going in for the IUI in about a week. The hospital said that they could get me in in two weeks. He called them back and got me in the following Monday! He said it was either a fatty tumor or a hernia. If it was a tumor, I could be back at work in two to three days. If it was a hernia, three to six weeks. So, just in case, I got myself, my boss and my partner in crime ready for me to be gone for six weeks, knowing that if I did that, I would be back in two days. And then I had my scan and my IUI was scheduled for the morning of my surgery! Way to pack my day with medical visits!


ok, this post is getting long, so I will leave this off here and post more later!

More of the beginning

Funny how I never start journals when things are going well - I only start them when I am depressed... Ever notice that? Or do you faithfully journal, no matter what?

After all of the IUIs, medications, shots, ultrasounds, gallons of blood drawn and one IVF I finally got pregnant! And then the hcg levels stopped going up. And then they told me it was only a chemical pregnancy (maybe to them, but not to me). And then they sent me on vacation to have a miscarriage. Actually, the day before vacation they gave me the option of taking medication that would make me miscarry, scheduling a D&C or just leaving me to miscarry on my own. Even after not seeing an egg sac in my ultrasound, I couldn't take a prescription that would end my pregnancy. What if? What if, by some miracle, the sac was hiding and was ok? How could I ingest medication that would end my pregnancy? (enter the irony that I am pro choice). I asked what the chances were of an ectopic pregnancy bursting while I was on vacation. When Dr. K said 10%, I told him and the nurse that I was willing to take those odds.

So, off I went, to the happiest place on earth, to meet up with my friends (more like sisters, just no blood relation between me and them) for a long weekend and then my DH and his daughter would be joining me in time for my sissies to leave. The spotting started Saturday and the bleeding started on Monday and it all lasted for two weeks. When I saw the bleeding start, I just cried - stupidly hoping that by sheer force of my will, I could keep myself pregnant. HA. And now, when I go to the doctor's office, I can't get the early appointments any more. I'm no longer an infertility patient... I was pregnant for 5 weeks and lost it, so I am suddenly less infertile than I was before. Great. To me, I am an infertility patient until I have a successful pregnancy, but what do I know... This, plus some disagreements from this summer have me thinking about switching doctors, but it just seems like it would be counter productive to switch now. It's so frustrating.

And to make it worse, people at work keep getting pregnant. I just wish that the doctor could tell me why I am not getting pregnant. First they thought it was the fibroid, but then they removed that. Then they thought that washing the sperm would help (and all I could picture was a little person standing over a sink, washing the sperm - I know - twisted - I can't help it), but it didn't. Even if it was something they couldn't fix, I could deal with it and move onto other options.

Then there were the phone calls. My mil called my sil, so then my sil & bil called. I KNOW they were only trying to be nice and supportive, but it didn't help and I felt mean for even thinking that, so I couldn't tell them that their call didn't help. In fact, it just made things worse. And then my sil wanted to know why I hadn't called. I guess this isn't news that I would call to share. We hadn't even told them that we were pregnant, so why would we call to tell them that I had miscarried? I'm tired of trying to get people to stop trying to talk to me about it, especially on the phone, since I just start crying really hard and I can't even get the words out. At least if you are with me, you might be able to read my lips through the snot.

Once upon a time

I thought that would be a good way for me to start, but that REALLY doesn't do it for me. How about "In the beginning"? Nope. " Four score and seven years ago" Nope - I wasn't even born then... "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away" Nope, George Lucas already used that one. I guess the fairy tale beginning wins.


Once upon a time, I thought that I never wanted to have children. My mother had been pretty crazy (not hippie crazy or fun crazy, I mean should have been under psychiatric care my whole life crazy) I was so scared of being a parent like her, that I thought that it would be better if I didn't have kids. Which, in my late teens and early twenties was fine! I made it through high school & college, my mother's suicide while I was in college and right after I graduated from college, I married the love of my life (or so I thought). And he didn't want kids, either, so we were a great fit for two kids who knew nothing (ok, so HE knew nothing... I knew EVERYTHING! ;-)) in our early twenties. And then my friend got pregnant and I thought "How nice for her - glad it isn't me." And then she had a miscarriage and we were all sad, since she would have been a great mom, but she had been told that she couldn't get pregnant, so she had proved the doctors wrong - isn't that great?!?! Fast forward from the early 90s to now and she is the mom of 4. And between her having her third and fourth, my clock started ticking...



So, this is my story... So far, the ending isn't the happy one I want, but we are still working on that. I've been inspired by some of the other blogs that I have read - wonderful and brave women who have shared their stories while making me laugh and cry along with their failures and successes. I've never been one to try to make people cry - I'm usually the one cracking a joke to make everyone laugh, but these days I don't really feel like laughing, so I don't mind having company when I cry. Just bring your own tissues, since I am running low.


I have some stuff written in my journal, so I will be starting to transfer all of that here. I just started it (I only seem to journal when I am upset, so all of mine are filled with angst - why doesn't he love me the way I love him... How much of a bitch is my mom - she is SO unfair... etc.) but my hand keeps cramping when I am writing, so typing seemed to be the way to go. I should have started earlier, so I wouldn't have forgotten dates and technical jargon, but I was always so hopeful that this time would be it and I could start my journal when I found out that I was pregnant and my baby could read about everything from the first day we knew.



Allons-y