A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

I guess we can say it's official: I'm pregnant! We saw a heartbeat at yesterday's ultrasound. You can see a "viable embryo" on the picture they gave us. Look!



And that's about all the bragging I'll do. As happy as we are, I've read enough ALI blogs to know how quickly and easily everything can go pear-shaped. For now, we just anxiously await our next ultrasound, in nine days.

I'm Sorry, But That's Impossible

Okay, so it's been a REALLY long time since I've posted here. I'd been feeling too immersed in and overwhelmed by infertility and needed to pull back where I could. I still kept up with other people's blogs, but I could not participate in any way, for my own sanity. But now I find myself in a bit of an odd situation and I can't seem to find the right google search phrase to find anyone else who has been through this.

We started our first IVF cycle in October. First, blood test and ultrasound on cycle day 31 to determine that we were not pregnant, followed by a week of prometrium to bring on my period, followed by three weeks of birth control pills (evil little things, incidentally) and two weeks of lupron, which brought us to last Friday's lupron evaluation.

The morning appointment went well and I spent the day waiting for my nurse to call with dosing instructions for the gonal-f and menopur part of the cycle. At about 2:30, the nurse calls and asks how quickly I can come back to the office, because the blood test shows I'm pregnant and they need to do another ultrasound. That's impossible, I tell her. Your hCG is 3000, she tells me. You got my blood mixed up with someone else's, I accuse as I explain to her my calendar of drugs and sex for the last month. In her 15 years of working there that has never happen, she assures me. Fine, I'll be there in half an hour. I call Dan to meet me there, because I'm sure nothing good is about to come out of this. I figure either they did indeed mix up my blood with someone else's, which is not at all comforting two weeks out from egg retrieval, or I have some kind of weird and awful tumor causing false results. Those are the only two possibilities as far as I'm concerned.

Except when we get to the office and the wand goes in, there it is. A little gestational sac, right in the middle of my uterus, measuring maybe 5 or 6 weeks. We're shocked. SHOCKED. I'm in total disbelief. How is this even possible? I had a test a month ago that said I was certainly not pregnant. They figure fertilization must have happened right before the test, so that it wouldn't show up yet. Ooookaaay.

Oh, and there's something else in there too. Another sac maybe. Or a blood clot behind the placenta. The doctor couldn't get a good view. I go back Monday for another ultrasound, where we should be able to tell what the second thing is and, you know, whether I'm still pregnant, which I am not at all convinced is the case despite a week of annoying symptoms that can as easily be explained by stress and prometrium as by pregnancy.

If anyone still reads this, has anyone known anyone to have a surprise pregnancy during their IVF cycle?

Hope: It Gives You Hell

I know we've only been doing this a year, but I don't know how much more of it I can take.

That's what I told Dan yesterday after receiving the news of yet another failed cycle. He pointed out that a year is actually a long time to be going through something so emotional and stressful. And you know what? He's right. If infertility were my job, I'd quit. If infertility were my boyfriend, I'd dump it. At least I like to pretend I'd be strong enough to do those things. Really though, you can't get away from infertility like that and I'm not a strong person like that. Besides, with infertility, being strong seems to mean hanging on as long as possible, doing everything you can and doing it all again before bravely coming to the 'decision' to give up and move on.

When we started this process, I didn't know how far I'd be willing to take it. I hoped simple medication to help me ovulate would be enough. then I hoped the added boost of IUI would do the trick. Then I was sure just switching to more aggressive drugs was the ticket. Through it all, IVF loomed in the background. It was something I didn't want to have to do, but took comfort in knowing it was there if we needed it.

Well now we need it and I'm freaked out. Not about the process, which I've read enough about now to know I can handle that side of it. It's the idea of it. IVF was the back-up plan, the just-in-case plan. Now, it's The Plan. If IVF doesn't work, there's no other plan waiting for us. If IVF doesn't work, Dan and I aren't having a baby. Donors and surrogates are not for us, and while we haven't ruled out the idea of adoption, it's also not something I find myself able to give any fair consideration before I have to.

The nurse who called yesterday actually said that the doctor's note was "try the same or IVF," but I told Dan that I'm reaching the end of my rope and cannot handle the stress of another cycle with such a low chance of success. He would have been cool with whatever I decided to do, but I think he's glad to be moving on to the next thing.

The first week of this last two week wait, I had hope. Real, strong, convinced hope that I would get pregnant and we would have a baby. By the second week, that hope had disappeared (along with my boob pain and the rest of my usual symptoms) and I all I had inside was a desperately sad fear. Every night, all I dreamed about was getting the negative results. This last week drained me of my hope. My hope that this cycle would work out. My hope that this process will ever work out.

The idea of moving on to IVF, which scary for the reasons I stated, is also a new path to hope for us. It's giving us something to hold onto and something to reach for. It's giving us a chance when we were beginning to feel like we didn't have a chance in the world.

This hope will carry us through the next couple months. We're taking this month off both because of timing (my cousin is getting married on the 18th and I will not be available for any kind of treatment for several days around that since I am performing the wedding) and because my body and mind need a break from all the medications, side effects and drama treatment brings.

What happens to us if IVF doesn't work out I don't know exactly. I believe, as Dan said last night in bed, "we're gonna be okay." I have hope that "we" is more than us and the dog.

Another One Bites the Dust

The nurse who called yesterday didn't know how to respond when she told me "I'm sorry to inform you that your beta came back negative" and I responded pretty cheerfully "I knew it would" and she asked "Did you test at home? Have you started bleeding already?" and I said "No, I just knew." I think those nurses must here a lot of crying when they call with results. But I knew this cycle was a bust and, knowing that, I was actually looking forward to my negative so I could stop the Prometrium, which had been doing a real number on me the last couple weeks. Seriously, the worst the side effects have been yet. I couldn't even drive my car for over a week because I couldn't concentrate long enough to notice if other cars were coming towards me.

So today I go to the drug store to get my prescriptions filled for next cycle. I hope the competent guy is there and not the airhead that was there last time because this is going to require calls to both the doctor's office and the insurance company and I simply don't think the airhead can handle it.

And in about a week I start injectables. Gonal-F, I think. This better work, because it's IVF or bust after that.

And Now for Something Completely Different

The absolute coolest thing I have going on right now is my cousin Vincent's wedding. What makes it so cool is that he and his fiance, Christine, asked me to get ordained and perform their ceremony. I was so honored to be asked and am having so much fun writing their ceremony, despite frequently getting stumped finding the right words to fit my ideas.

Our own wedding ceremony was performed by a friend, Coffee Betsy, and it was just beautiful. Vincent and Christine liked it so much that it's what inspired them to ask me to do theirs.

I'm somewhat nervous about it. I'm not one for being the center of attention and speaking in front of crowds. It's actually surprising I'm not freaking out. But I think I'm just too excited and too intent on doing a great job to worry about having an anxiety attack in front of everyone. At least, I hope that's the case.

Now though, I need to go shopping. I have nothing to wear.

Anyone say or do anything super special at their wedding or see something super special at someone else's wedding that really moved you? Do share!

Intuition

How much stock do you put in your intuition?

Years ago, I read Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom by Dr. Christiane Northrup (I saw it on Oprah) and she talked a lot about intuition, the uterus and how important it was for doctors to listen to their female patients when they insist they just know that something is wrong. It's a thought that's stuck with me all these years, though I don't think I've had many truly intuitive moments in my life.

Currently though I feel like my body is telling me something. Well, it's telling me lots of thing, but most of those are of the complainy "stop loading me with medication and potato chips" variety. But there is one specific thing I feel its screaming at me and I'm doing my best to listen. My body is telling me that the key to getting pregnant lies with right-side ovulation.

My doctor says this is simply not the case. The fallopian tube floats to wherever the egg is to fetch the mature follicle. My intuition tells me that's just not happening in my body. I have two tubes, and though I've had two HSGs and laparoscopy, the nature of my left tube's blockage has never been examined. Who's to say that the ovary end isn't perfectly fine and it isn't picking up eggs and stranding them in the tube because it's the uterus end that's blocked? If that's happening, why would the right tube float over and do the left tube's job? Or maybe the right tube just doesn't want to float over there no matter what is or isn't happening with the left tube. I don't know. My intuition isn't getting that specific.

In five Clomid cycles and two IUIs, I've had one minor success, and that minor success coincided with the only time follicle development occurred in my right ovary. My intuition tells me this isn't coincidence. My doctor says it is. I hope he's right and my intuition is wrong and that I'm pregnant right now. I don't think this is the case, but I hope it.

I bring this up because when we went in for our changing-course consult last week, the doctor asked my opinion and I started to tell him that I thought the key was right-side ovulation. He emphatically disagreed and wouldn't hear another word about it. While I didn't bring up the point again, it is the reason I insisted we try one more IUI, but with injectable meds. He agreed to do it only once, so I hope the Gonal-F is good about making eggs in both ovaries. I dread IVF.

I'm not looking to prove my doctor wrong. Really, there's nothing to gain in that. I'm looking to get pregnant. If my intuition is telling me the way to make it happen, why would I ignore that? Why should he?

Not in the Mood

You know, sometimes blogging is a welcome relief from all the stresses of life and infertility, and sometimes it feels like another thing on the list of shit waiting to be done. When I get that way, I don't blog. I also don't clean the bathroom, even though it desperately needs it. This morning though, I'm doing both, whether I feel like it or not (I really don't), before I pop in yet another Prometrium and spend the afternoon fighting a nap.

We bought a new car. Well, Dan bought a new car. A Nissan Maxima. It's a very nice car. I thought it was a little more than we needed (in style and in price), but it's making him so much happier than his ten year old Corolla with 121,000 miles on it ever did, so whatever.

We thought we were ready to move. Met with a real estate agent (she was a disaster) about putting our house on the market. Picked out a house we wanted. Met with the mortgage guy at the bank. We were very excited about it, but also very stresses out. Basically, to buy the house we wanted in the area we wanted, we'd be pushed to the absolute limits of our budget. I could not get comfortable with that. And that was before even taking into account the potentially huge bills waiting for us as fertility treatments continue. So we decided to stick it out where we are for another year or two or three. Blah, but still the right decision for us now.

I had my second IUI a week ago yesterday. Symptoms are just typical Prometrium stuff, not the barrage of fatigue and hunger last time we had low-but-positive beta. No surprise though. Even the doctor didn't seem convinced this cycle was winner since, two days before the IUI when he told me trigger, he also told me to make an appointment to discuss what we're going to do next cycle since it's time to change course.

I knew it was a possibility, but I didn't think he was really going to suggest IVF when we met on Friday. Dan and I told him we were not ready for that and convinced him to give IUI with injectables a try. He agreed, but only for one cycle. Then, he says, it's IVF. Honestly, I'm not thrilled about that. I have not yet accepted that it's something I want to do at all. Of course, as it becomes more and more of a reality, I'm beginning to warm up to it. He also said that at my age, he'd want to transfer only one embryo. Dan and I already agree that it we go this route, we really want to transfer two. Not because we're especially keen on the idea of twins (we're not at all, actually), but because, at the prices we're talking, we feel like you have to go for the most bang for your buck. Isn't that a horrible way to look at things? I feel like it is. But at the same time, who says we'd ever be able to do a second IVF? We'll be overjoyed to have one child. But having only one child forever is not something either of us ever imagined. I don't want to have to get pushy with our doctor on this, but I will if it comes to it.

Hopefully though, it won't, and Gonal-F will do the trick for us like it did for my cousin who had twins (terribly premature, but one's doing great and the other's coming along amazingly well now) two years ago.

This Kinda Sucks

So if you're only kinda pregnant, does that mean you only kinda have a miscarriage? Unsurprisingly, yesterday's beta was non-existent. I didn't think to ask the nurse what the technical term here would be. Doesn't really seem to matter though, but I will ask when I call her on day one.

We're sad and disappointed, obviously. We knew it was a possibility and even expected it. Still, it kinda hurts.

The nurse said the doctor wants to try this again since we were kinda successful (okay, she said "somewhat," but I'm kinda working a theme here) and we can go ahead with our next cycle if we want, or we can take one off if we feel the need. Probably we'll just go right into the next, but we don't have to decide until day one.

Apparently my body was ready to be done with Prometrium, since already the bloating in my stomach and boobs has gone down significantly. Boobs are still a little sore and my body's still running hot, but I bet that will be done by tomorrow.

Oh well. We got closer than we've ever been. That's kinda something.

My House is a Wreck and So Am I

Because Liv just asked, thought I'd take a minute to mention that I'm an emotional wreck today. Went in for my blood test at 7 and I won't hear results until around 3. All weekend I've gone back and forth between believing everything would work out and there's no way this is going work out. Mostly this morning, I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I haven't had and cramping or bleeding or anything, and in fact my symptoms are as they have been for over two weeks (my boobs are killing me too!). But I guess I'm preparing myself just in case, as if thinking about a bad result all day will somehow make the actual bad result not so bad.

The nurse this morning asked what my last beta was and gave a little sigh when I said 34.1, but perked up when I said that it started at 8.16 and doubled twice in three days. She said she felt optimistic. Of course, what else is she going to say? "Sounds pretty weak to me, lady"?

I'm trying to put good vibes into the universe so I get a positive result that's a little closer to big and fat. I've been wish wish wishing for it constantly since Thursday, but I really don't know. According to The Secret I should what? Write it down? Put it in an envelope? Mail it to God? Well, I just wrote this down on a scrap of paper: I want to be pregnant. I am pregnant. My hCG level is currently 140-280. I want my hCG level to keep doubling.

Think that'll work?

Maybe I should have done this yesterday and written down that I wanted a clean and tidy house today? We were supposed to spend the weekend straightening up because a real estate agent is coming by so we can talk about what needs to be done to put our house on the market. I was hoping to avoid, "Well, you may want to start by doing this giant pile of laundry...." But honestly, I think we were both feeling too weird to be productive. Yesterday especially had its odd moments for Dan.

Father's Day never got to him the way Mother's Day did me, but yesterday he had no idea how to feel. Being in this in between place is, well, weird. Should he feel excited? Hopeful? Worried? Nothing? It's the first time I think through all of this that an aspect really focused on him alone.

So anyway, the carpets are vacuumed, the toilets are clean, my stomach is a tiny bit jittery, my hands are a tiny bit shaky, my eyes are a tiny bit watery. And we'll see what happens.

edit: A reprieve! The real estate agent just emailed me to ask if we could meet tomorrow instead of today. Maybe we'll get our asses in gear tonight and put some of our crap away after all.

There Must Be Something in the Blog Water

It's a busy time for our community, at least as far as the blogs I keep up with. IF Optimist got the sucky "your beta's gone down" on Wednesday and Eve's going in for her hysteroscopy today. Mo and Will are still working through their latest IVF loss, but Barren just started a new stim cycle and seems pretty enthusiastic about it.

Interestingly, A LOT of the blogs I follow are pregnant. I'm sure most of you read Liv's tearjerker of an announcement yesterday, plus birds and squirrels. Barefoot and (Not) Pregnant, Good Egg Hunting, Die Frau Ohne Schatten, Riding the Roller Coaster, The Real Bean are all with child. It's exciting and I really couldn't be happier for them, especially for Liv who is a powerhouse of support. Does anyone else feel like this is karma rewarding her for OMG You Rock! Day? (Incidentally, I still have to post about my stash. Next week.)

How can so many women from the relatively small group I read all be pregnant at the same time? Are we all drinking from the same tainted source source of water?

Did I just say "we"?

I did!

Didn't I have I beta of 8.16 on Monday that was fully expected to be, like, zero yesterday?

I did!

But it wasn't zero at all. It was 34.1!

Okay, so for 17 dpiui, that's a really low number. But it's a number that doubled twice in three days, which we know is a really good thing, perhaps an even more important thing than the actual number itself. The nurse didn't want to be too optimistic on the phone, but she was both surprised and pleased by the jump. She told me to keep doing what I'm doing, don't do anything too strenuous, to stay hydrated (with tainted blog water?) and call immediately if I experience any spotting or cramping. I go back Monday for another blood test.

Dan and I didn't talk yesterday. We were sure it would be bad news. I didn't want to give him bad news over the phone or in an email and he didn't want to have to process bad news at work. When he came home, I waited for him on the stairs. I wanted to be able to stand on the bottom stair when I hugged him because it's just more comfortable that way when it's a long hug, and I knew it would be a long hug. He walked in, came over to me, I hugged him, he said "well?", I told him "it went up," he said "what???", I told him again "it went up," and we cried for a couple minutes. Then I explained to him that the numbers were low and about doubling rates. Then we hugged and cried some more. There may have been kissing too. Okay, there was definitely kissing too.

We know that Monday's blood test could bring bad news. We know it. And honestly, we half expect it. But we've decided to just enjoy (despite the super sore boobs) being pregnant this weekend. Not to be morbid, but it may not happen again and I really, really want to just feel some of those good feelings at least once in my life. I'm not going to miss out because it might be easier to handle bad results later if we don't get too excited now.

A 'Difficult' Result

The nurse's words, not mine.

Went in for my blood test yesterday, 14 dpiui. Beta? 8.16.

According to the nurse, they like to see a beta of at least 50. The Internet tells me 100-200 is more common. Both the nurse and the Internet tell me that while it is not likely a beta of 8.16 will result in a lasting pregnancy, it still may. We're talking a small but real chance. The nurse warned to not get our hopes up, but to not lose hope altogether, which is about the most annoying advice ever.

I had spotting Saturday, which could have been implantation bleeding. Or not. I've had my typical Prometrium symptoms of fatigue, hot flashes and sore boobs. I've had the added symptoms of EXTREME fatigue, EXTREME hot flashes with a pretty much constant sense of "is it hot in here or is it just me," EXTREME hunger and my boobs have gotten bigger (and I already have what you might call "big 'uns"). These symptoms have been driving our hope (and controlling my life) for over a week and it's hard to accept all that is for a beta of 8.16. So while that number is pretty devastating and we know what it probably means and we're preparing for it, there's still that little something that won't let us completely give up. Just mostly.

I go back Thursday to see what all the hope or lack thereof gets us.

Clomid #4, IUI #1

I'm not just a bad blogger, I'm a bad blogger friend. I've neither responded to comments here nor commented anywhere else in a long time, nevermind written anything or kept up with everyone. Shame on me.

So what's been up?

First of all, if any of you infertile haven't seen Up yet but plan on it, be warned: The short beforehand, Mostly Cloudy will make you cry. It's a sweet, longing kind of cry, and it will happen. It's cute though, so you'll be able to get over it when the movie starts. But then the movie starts, and the first five minutes are going to push your ability to not start sobbing uncontrollably in public to new levels. If you can hold it together, the movie is quite good. We saw the 3D version, which was lovely, but if you see it in 2D, you won't lose anything.

Second, I haven't been posting or even keeping up with everyone else's doings (though I've seen both good news and bad news as I play catch up) because I've been to distracted by my new project. I decided to write a book. I had a dream while we were visiting my parents and something that happened in it was just such a cute idea that I couldn't stop thinking about it. Soon, a cast of characters presented themselves to me and a story started to develop. I'm having so much fun thinking things through and writing them down (by hand, for now) that it seems I've lost interest in other things, like reading books or blogging. Can't say if it will ever be more than something to keep my mind off other things or if I'll ever even finish writing it, but right now it's my favorite thing.

Finally, yesterday was our first IUI. We had one "beautiful" follicle (from our fourth round of Clomid)on the right (yay open tube!), triggered (Pregnyl) Saturday evening (Dan left a deep bruise this time) and yesterday went and did the deed. It hurt. I wasn't really prepared for that. I should have been though since the procedure is almost exactly the same as for the HSG. I guess if the HSG doesn't cause you any pain, then IUI wouldn't either. But since the HSG was like the worst pain ever for me, IUI was no picnic. Still, it seemed to go well, even though it took Dr. Fistbump a while to get the catheter past my cervix. Dan contributed 26 million boys post-wash and got to inject them himself, so he did his part. This morning I start Prometrium suppositories twice a day for two weeks until we get our BFN....or for eight weeks if we actually get a BFP. Of course, I try not to think too much about it, but I can't help saying things like, "So if IUI works, when do we tell people?" Nothing like getting the old hopes up even though I know so much better. Ah well. At least I know if it doesn't work, we can roll right into another try.

It's Only Thursday

Must everyone on Facebook ALREADY be posting about Mother's Day? Really? That's one place I will NOT be visiting on Sunday.

As it happens, Dan and I will be visiting my parents in Las Vegas this weekend, where I hear they have this thing called 'The Sun' and she brings her boyfriend, 'Blue Skies' to keep her company. If it comes by tomorrow afternoon, I'll bring my OMG You Rock package with me to open up there. Otherwise, I'll at least try to check out what everyone else got for OUR special day.

Disconnected

Ever since I got back from my parents', I've been off. At first, I felt like I had one foot here and one foot there, in two places at once, not sure where I needed to be more. Now though, I feel completely disconnected from everything. I can't fall asleep on my own (at least there's unisom), can't wake up easily (no matter how long I've been out), have trouble keeping track of or maintaining interest in the things around me and I'm generally just Not Right. It's annoying, to both me and Dan. I have a ton of stuff to do, but all I want to do is crawl back in bed. But if I get back in bed, all I do is fret about all the things I have to do. It's almost like depression, but not quite (believe me, I know from depression). I feel lost.

OMG I Suck

I suck, because I totally forgot about OMG You Rock Day until I got an email from Liv with my partner assignment. How could I forgot about this great idea that I was so psyched about three weeks ago? Well, let me tell you.

Saturday morning, just over two weeks ago, in the middle of a week of Prometrium, my mom calls. It's 10:30 by me, so it's only 7:30 her time. Immediately we think "uh oh."

Mom: Daddy had a heart attack.

*world stops turning*

Me: Is he okay.

Mom: Yes and no.

Me: What does that mean?

Mom: Well, they fixed the problem that caused the heart attack. They did an angiogram and put in a stent. But when he had the heart attack, he was driving the car and he passed out and the car crashed. Now he's under sedation and the doctor doesn't know if he's going to wake up or be a vegetable or what.

Yes, my mom actually said "vegetable" because that's the the word the no-bedside-manner doctor said to her.

Dan and I were in the car (on the way home from dropping off the dog to get groomed and grabbing a quick McD's breakfast). As soon as we got in the house, it was upstairs tot he computer to find a flight out that day. Unfortunately, Southwest was booked out of BWI until Sunday and other airlines were charging upwards of $1200. Fortunately, Southwest still had seats available out of Philadelphia for $400. So I hurried to get in the shower while Dan threw my clothes in the dryer, hurried to pack and hurried in the car to hurry to Philadelphia to catch a flight in just three hours.

The whole flight, I had to force myself to not think of what would be waiting for me when I got off the plane. Would my dad be dead? Would he in fact be a vegetable and would I have to make the call to pull the plug (because I know for a fact my mom and brother never could)? Oh, and because I'm self-absorbed enough to not constantly also think about my ovaries, I'm working the calendar to see if my suddenly-canceled cycle could still be saved. (In the end, no it could not.)

When I land in Vegas (did I mention my parents live in the kewlest vacation spot ever?), my brother and his friend pick me up, tell me my dad came out of the sedation for a little while and that things are looking okay. What a freaking relief!

That feeling of relief would come and go over the next week and a half as he would wake up and talk to us (yay!) and we'd notice he has no short-term memory (boo!) or he'd go for an MRI and find he suffered no stroke (yay!) but he has a constant seizure that may last the rest of his life (boo!) or he'd cough and complain of tremendous pain which he was told for days was just bruising from the chest compressions (he required CPR and three shocks from the defibrillator at the accident site) until a contrast CT revealed a blood clot in his chest (boo!). Oh, also? My parents do not have health insurance. Or money in the bank. Or jobs. Well, my mom just started something new (part time, $8 an hour, which hopefully will still be there for her when she can leave my dad alone for long lengths of time). They are applying for all kinds of aid, but none of that is easy to qualify for, even when your life and bank account are in the shithole.

S-T-R-E-S-S does not begin to describe it.

My dad is home now and slowly recuperating. It's going to be a long road. I'm home and also recuperating, as all that stress and lack of sleep (and a wicked case of bronchitis) make for a very sleepy girl. I'm impatiently ticking off the days until we can start our next cycle and trying to plan a trip back out there that falls conveniently between testing days.

And I'm slowly getting back into the swing of my life. Which includes remembering to update my blog and read two weeks' worth of everyone else's. And I have to go shopping, because OMG, somebody totally rocks.