Lucky and Still Worried

I woke up from anesthesia that wasn't anesthesia with a crescent shaped gouge in my wrist. Pretty sure I got myself while under. Before giving in though, I made the cranky nurse chuckle, Dr. G chuckle, and both the anesthesiologist and the embryologist laugh out loud. They had these looks on their faces like they shouldn't be laughing at what the sad infertile girl was saying, but funny is funny.

Shots are over, but we've moved on to thrice daily vaginal suppositories. Yummy. Rumor is that they're about $14/day, which doesn't seem bad until you calculate that I'm using them for two weeks if there is a negative pregnancy test and 8-10 weeks if it's positive. My stomach is still a battlefield. See?




The most unflattering picture ever. I'll claim that the belly button, the piercing scar and the freckle were there before, but the bruises and stab marks are courtesy of IVF. The barely-there scar in the bottom of my belly button is from the laparoscopic surgery as a result of IF. Love is a battlefield, no joke.

We're incredibly lucky in that we have more embryos (right now - this can all change overnight) than some women even have eggs retrieved. So very lucky.

Which makes me wonder if my uterus is just going to kill the beauties we put back in a few days. I know, one day at a time and be grateful for what you have, but there is a problem and if it's not with my eggs, his sperm or the joining of the two (which is kind of exciting in a hey-baby, wanna-try-out-my-backseat sort of way), then I may just posses a killer uterus. It's possible. We'll find out.

*Thanks for the Gatorade tips - you, of course, are correct and now I'm not sure where I came by the other advice. Trying to drink the quart of recommended fluids from here on out.

- Posted from my mobile phone

What to say?

Lots has happened and we're still waiting on the best bits.

My darling C has put up with a lot: hysterical crying, misguided anger, and being told the sex we just had was terrible. Not my best moments.

I've been quite proficient at giving myself shots. Especially the easy l.upron ones with the insulin needles. The stims with the mixing, q-caps, saline and $50 clouds of fluff caught me off guard. That first night, with AM by my side, I tried, got confused, then freaked out and finally got all the meds into my body one way or another. It was a small scale trainwreck and to quote AM, "It only took 20 minutes." Thankfully, with C as mixmaster extraordinaire, things have gone much smoother. I mean, I'm still fussy (before shooting up) and very silentangry (after shooting up), but I'm sticking a needle in myself. And m.enopur stings.

Oh, and I hit a small vein or capillary or something while Mom was watching me shoot l.upron, so there was blood and then a giant bruise. I'm super talented.

And most recently, I've got over a dozen follicles brewing in one ovary and half that in the opposite. But as we all know, don't count your follicles until your eggs are retrieved, and then, don't count your eggs until they're determined mature and fertilizable, and then (okay, we'll stop there). The NP at the RE's thought that was pretty funny. My last US went well (how many women can laugh with a dildocam pinning their right ovary in place?) and labwork looks great. So far, I believe I'm textbook. Which is better than being the one that they have no idea why things are wonky.

I'm sure there is much more drama and stabbing to come and I'm not ruling out a case of OHSS (I read to eat protein and drink water - not g.atorade due to the salt). Need I write it? Please let this work. Or let it give some answers. Or let it give us closure. Any or all of the above.

- Posted from my mobile phone

Out-of-Pocket Cost

As of my appointment today, $11k and change. Will itemize later. Holy shit. We're not even to the meat and potatoes of this game (or egg + sperm = embryo, then blastocyst, if you will).

When was the last time any of you threw down eleven grand at the blackjack table? Because, have no doubt, this is a gamble.

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I'll Just Be Honest

Even birth control is screwing with me. Bloating and constipation are the main culprits, but heartburn reared it's ugly head. But I'm not certain, because I am coughing-fever-sniffles-congestion-sore throat-green drainage sick also. So, the sore throat is a toss up: really bad heartburn or continual drainage sliding down the back of my throat. I am unpleasant.

I don't care what I'm wearing today or that the minimally acceptable duties are being performed at my job right now (oh, except for that part where I went to the grocery store over lunch to get a veggie platter, dill dip, pita chips and hummus for a dear Coworker's birthday, and then to Paner.a for a mango smoothie, okay, for both of us). Although rumor is that I flirted with at least three older gentlemen at work today, which while low for me, is still one more than advocated by department standards. I just don't feel good.

I don't care at all about the one hour prerequisite technology course I'm currently taking. I just bitched my way through the postings due last night. I also received moments ago, confirmation that I've been accepted into the librarianshipenhoodsmith program to begin graduate work in January. Here's the thing, if I can get pregnant and stay pregnant through January, I'm thinking this degree might need to kiss my ass. However if bad things happen or no things happen (which are still bad things), I might need this degree program for distraction and/or comfort. Or I'll need the grad school money for therapy. Which I'm already seeking.

That's all I have the capacity to write about right now.

- Posted from my mobile phone

Eggs

I need them for chocolate cupcakes for a coworker's birthday tomorrow. Yeah, it's 930pm. There is one in the egg carton in the fridge.

I've got two things to say.

First, C is picking some up on his way home from out of town.

Second, why is it all about the eggs? I'm set up to inject myself with freaking hormones to produce 10-15 (I'm aiming for 16 in order to be an overachiever). And that's all that is going to come to mind when pondering eggs.

IVF is a wonderful bitch. You just can't know the unyielding grasp it has on your life until you've invited it to possess you. Then it will and when you ask it why it has to control every little thing, it just smirks.

Some Days Get You

C was supposed to provide his part of the whole shebang this morning. I bought him cold medicine (the good stuff behind the counter) last night. Does anyone else have this problem? It just doesn't work with cold medicine. We both forgot. Thankfully, we were both accepting of this fact, as was the doctor's office and C was able to reschedule.

My grandma was taken to the ER and then put into the hospital for COPD complicated by pneumonia. We think everything is going to be fine, but it isn't something to mess around with.

And what is really weighing on my heart is the news that a dear friend miscarried. They just told me about their third addition not three weeks ago and they were exhausted, but so very excited. Their oldest son was convinced the baby was a girl. I received a text earlier today that they lost the baby. All I could send was my love. Until I headed to my own dr appointment and saw a girl walking out with a small belly and I smiled to think that she was somewhere in an early pregnancy. I then looked up at her face and the guy accompanying her. My dear friend and her sweet husband. I froze, not knowing whether to intrude or just let them be. Half a second later I remembered how alone I had felt with my own news four and a half years ago, bolted out of my car, knocked on her window. I gave her a hug and told her I loved her. Despite having been there, I do not know if those were the right words or actions. And still, I'm strongly considering showing up at her house this weekend just to sit, either with her and listen, or with the boys to give her and the husband a few moments.

This reminded me again (because AM was instrumental in lighting the fire) that I need to talk with someone. Reducing anxiety and coping mechanisms are at the top of the to-do list. I was lulled into thinking that every pregnancy except a possible one of mine ended in a live baby and again am so sad to find out that's not true.




- Posted from my mobile phone

10 Things I'm Comfortable Sharing

Our RE, Dr. G, might as well be called Dr. Careful. Surprisingly, this is a-okay with me (right up until he won’t let me do what I want to do which I don’t think will happen). Guidelines such as: only exercise allowed after embryo transfer is walking. I mean, a reasonable, rational person knows that embryos aren’t going to be jostled or mountain biked out, but let’s get real, no women and few men who are doing IVF are reasonable or rational at that point in the game. Anyway, I am grateful for Dr. Careful and will be, even if this doesn’t work.

I’m utilizing masking tape to quilt in straight rows and I think it is the coolest thing ever. Also, in case you don’t read the blog about our mundane life, I quilt. For other peoples’ babies. Because I am a sicko like that.

C is right, purchasing and using birth control pills while actively trying to get pregnant is weird. I will need a refresher course in how to take them. Seriously. One of my friends mentioned the same thing as she went on bcp for a year to take a drug therapy for her newly diagnosed MS – taking bcp while being in the right place and wanting a child, again, so weird.

A double dose of the children’s gummy multi-vitamins have a nutritional edge on the sour gummy prenatal vitamins. More zinc and more folic acid. I’m still forgetting to take both.

The front office personnel at the RE’s office knows me. Like actually knows who I am. I should bring them cookies. I always arrive winded after racing up four flights of stairs (side note: will that be prohibited after embryo transfer?).

It’s too bad that the next baby quilt I make can’t say “My mom kicked infertility’s ass!” because it should. That girl deserves it. Her soon-to-arrive baby boy is testament to her perseverance. Instead, I’m thinking grays and purples for the baby prince.

My sister thinks that injection class sounds cool. Until I explained intramuscular shots vs. subcutaneous shots and the mixing of vials and the possible burning and stinging at entry. Now she’s freaked out. I’m thinking of either making her give me one or watching an injection when we get to that point. Just to be cruel, you future lab tech, you.

I was considering a last minute tattoo in the belly region as an FU to the fates (either that or the purchase of a convertible and I don’t want a convertible). As usual, C thinks my ideas are dumb and as I glimpsed the injection hand out, I think there will be enough needles going into my belly in upcoming months.

No sex for two weeks + after egg retrieval, or is it transfer? I need to look at that again. It’s going to be a long haul. Three weeks total? Or is it until the first US? So I might have a viable pregnancy, but can't have sex? That's got catch-22 written all over it. I still need to read that book.

Even with all the craziness (reminder, bcps still contain hormones), we are actually doing okay. Mostly. On good days. Yeah.

- Posted from my mobile phone

Dates

I have dates. I didn't want to say anything because I don't want to share them. I don't want anyone to ask how many eggs or how the embryos are doing or how many we ultimately transferred or (especially) when the pregnancy test is. I don't want to be backed into a corner where I feel forced to answer these questions because the person asking cares so much for us and what we're going through.

Which isn't to say I'm not asking for your love, positive thoughts, prayers, smoke signals, love, encouragement, support, love and understanding, because I am - somewhat desperately asking for all of these fantastic intangible gifts. Which also isn't to say that I won't (double negative) share some of the specifics - I might. But on my terms. When it's all over, I know I'll talk about it and be eager to share, to educate. Unless I'm engulfed with grief and then I'll do whatever I need to in order to get through it.

So, I'm an anxious, emotional ball of a mess. I will be this way for awhile. Good news** will scare me and bad news will devastate me. But I'm willing and allowing the tiniest smidgen of hope to creep in.

**C is the sort of man that cannot keep a good secret. He just can't. He won't last the 12 weeks I would like us to wait to tell friends and family about any possible good news (I can already tell how these presumptuous words will hurt me later), so the deal is that we won't say anything until after seeing/hearing a heartbeat. And since no one knows the exact timing of everything, no one will know when to anticipate good or bad news. Sounds like a plan to me. I think.


- Posted from my mobile phone

Presuming the Best (?!?)

I just texted C's brother that if we're lucky he'll have to come home within the next 18 months to meet his niece or nephew. I've got a sick way of tempting fate, I guess.

Holy shit. The gall of some people (me)!

The inherent problem here (as I've noted before) is that when hope creeps in, it lifts you up. Making it a worse fall and landing into disappointment.

- Posted from my mobile phone

More to Consider

Lines in the sand have been drawn. I went to an infertility presentation on Monday with one of my friends/coworkers. The doctors presenting run the rival clinic to my own RE. It was depressing in the way that it reminded me how fragile the creation of life is and what we are truly embarking upon. My friend? Different scenario, set of circumstances, and she was invigorated. It was good for her.

I took away three questions/ponderings/ideas: 3 day transfer vs. 5 day transfer, egg quality (I know) and genetic testing.

The transfer difference is due to the assertion that the clinic that made the presentation was the first in our area to do 5 day blastocyst transfer. What this means is that the lab babysits the embryos for five days, until they reach a multi-cellular size and then transfer them back into the uterus, versus the typical three day babysitting the lab usually does. The reason that 5 day transfers are better than 3 day transfers are because doctors/scientists think that in a run-of-the-mill pregnancy conception occurs in the fallopian tubes and the embryo takes about five days to travel (and further develop) to the uterus and find a comfy spot to burrow in (implant). So 5 day blastocyst transfers might better mimic traditional timing. I need to find out which type of transfers my clinic does (because this presentation was made by a rival clinic).

Egg quality is kind of freaking me out. Again, typically and per past research, I should have nothing to worry about because the huge determining factor is age and I am relatively young (in this infertility game). What these doctors said in the presentation backs that theory up, but. But there are other factors besides FSH levels, such as history (my FSH and history are clear), AFC and some other count. And the doctors said that the reason human conception rates are so low (they are, at 15-20% chance of pregnancy each month, we have one of the lowest conception rate of any mammal – maybe not that bad, but when you don’t bring a dog in heat into the house – she always turns up full of puppies) are that a huge percentage of our eggs are incompatible with life, or genetically defective. The incompatibility/defect only increases with age, which is why pregnancy is possible after 40, but the movie stars are not using their own eggs. So, back to me – I should still be in the clear, right? IVF is a wonderful route to a baby, but it can also be an eye-opening diagnostic tool. Think about it: you’ve got the sperm and the eggs under a microscope and you are watching them get together and multiply. But you can see the two-headed sperm and the guys that seem to have no internal compass. And there are a few eggs you’re wondering about with cracked membranes and other irregularities. There are even a few embryos that formed, but now refuse to further develop. Look at everything you learned from sheer observation! The doctors stated that under that type of microscope, “unexplained” infertility (essentially, what we’re dealing with) often becomes an egg quality issue. Which isn’t incredibly worrisome in and of itself, but the AFC does concern me a bit. One of the slides had a picture of a healthy ovary and you’re supposed to have follicles with eggs waiting in the lining (AFC: antral follicle count). I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen that. I mean, my doctor can check and I’m not always sure what I’m looking at, but still. If it’s an egg quality issue, we’re screwed.

Now for the most controversial: genetic testing. When utilizing IVF, you can choose (for a couple extra $K) to have the embryos undergo PGD (preimplantation genetic diagnosis). I could delve into what PGD actually is, who it is useful for, and how often it is not used in the terrifying way that the general public thinks it is, but I won’t bore you with that or my views on PGD in general. I will recommend two books (if you don’t read my booklist on the other blog) if you are interested: The Match by Beth Whitehouse and The Baby Business by Deborah Spar – because heaven help you if you even attempt to discuss this issue without being well informed (did you catch that? I will never care for your ignorant, ill-informed opinion/advice/supposition). For us, my concern is CF (Cystic Fibrosis). I have a first cousin with a child who has CF, and while this child is amazing and active and his prognosis is good, this is still a disease with terrible realities. Rather than go through PGD with any of our embryos, we thankfully have another option – I can be tested to see if I am a carrier for CF. If I am, C can be tested. If C is, then we have some more decisions to make.

If there is a baby that comes from all of this madness, I wonder if he/she would even care or want to know the struggle/desire/love/money/science/medicine behind her/his conception and eventual birth. I’m sure it won’t matter to an infant or a ten-year-old, but is it either useful information or a sentimental story for a child about to get married or start a family of his/her own?

We have two videos that were shot while I was pregnant. C took them around nine weeks and they are me lying on the couch with the cutest Boris puppy draped across my midsection. The narrative is so sweet and genuine. Whether or not I ever torture myself by watching them is not the point; that they exist makes me feel less insane and possibly hopeful. This morning I briefly considered making another video. Something that puts a face, voice and story to this precipice we’re on. The concern and struggle and worry given a tone and wandering across my face. I’m not sure what it would be for exactly. Perhaps I need to check on motivation.

As for the lines drawn:
~I will ask my clinic which day they transfer embryos and do a little more research on the benefits of 5 day transfer vs. 3 day transfer. I doubt that there is enough evidence out there for me to switch clinics at this point in the game, not to mention building a new relationship with another RE when I am perfectly happy with my own RE.
~I’ll ask my RE if there are any additional tests we can do to determine egg quality, but outside of a disastrous result, the embryologist will probably see what I’m working with shortly after egg retrieval, which is too far into the process to change any protocols. There is a reason I compare IVF and ART procedures to Russian roulette.
~I will call my insurance company to price/see if they cover genetic testing for CF and then get tested. This is what will ease my worries. C does draw his line at PGD. My line is more a gray area full of what-ifs that I hope to never encounter.


- Posted from my mobile phone