Danana Has a Baby

To Do: Have a Happy New Year

2012-01-03T12:03:00.002-05:00

I have a goal. Actually, I have lots of goals. This year, I am going to accomplish a bunch of stuff. Much of it is tasks like paint the house and plant a garden. Some of it is self-improvement, like read at least a book a month.

One of it is have a baby or give up trying.

Technically I've given myself until I turn 36 in March 2013 for that, but my goal is to get pregnant this year. And on my own. No treatments. A topic for another post.

And there will be more posts, because blogging is also on my list. I haven't felt the draw to doing this because I haven't known how to define this space anymore. And while there have been times I've actually really wanted to write here, those times have been compromised by the fact that people I know (my husband, some friends) read this and these are things I wouldn't actually want them to read. I'm probably going to end up writing about them anyway. It could get embarrassing, but we'll all cope.

So this space is going to become about me, my kid, my marriage and my brilliant idea to conceive by just having sex like normal people. And anything else I feel like writing about when I sit down and force myself to type something up.

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times

2011-03-08T09:05:00.002-05:00

I stopped posting because I started bleeding. The Monday night after Thanksgiving, Dan and I were sitting on the couch when I felt and odd gush of warm liquid spill out of me. I ran to the bathroom and discovered more blood than I'd ever seen. I think I said something like "oh no," because Dan asked if everything was okay. I told him in quivering voice that I thought I was having a miscarriage. My pants were soaked through with blood, there was a trail of blood on the floor to the bathroom, a puddle of blood at my feet and I proceeded to fill the toilet with blood three times (as well as several overnight pads in the coming hours). Dan called the fertility clinic, who told me to come in first thing in the morning for ultrasound and, if I felt it necessary, I should go to the ER. I decided our bad news could wait until morning and tried to focus on the positives, like I wasn't cramping at all and the doctor did confirm the presence of a small blood clot (that could cause some bleeding).

The next morning, bleeding had slowed to slightly heavier than spotting. We learned the baby was fine and the clot had grown. I was taken off baby aspirin and put on light bed rest for a week. The bleeding turned to spotting, which I would do throughout my pregnancy. I would have several more (6-8, I'd guess) serious bleeding episodes like this, most of which became nighttime visits to the ER to confirm everything was alright. The last one was around week 20. I was on bed rest until week 23.

I had a subchorionic hematoma. Usually, this does not occur. When it does, it is usually small, produces little to no bleeding and resolves in the first trimester. Mine was large, continues to grow into the second trimester, produced so much bleeding I developed anemia, and never went away. I passed it several days after giving birth, along with what I assume was the large piece of scar tissue keeping it in place. I also assume it is what kept my placenta from releasing and required the doctor's entire arm to spend several minutes up my business tugging and twisting to get it out.

If dealing with the stress of thinking every movement was going to cause another gush of blood to the floor wasn't enough, things got much, much worse after our genetic screening appointment. There is a larger story here, but that is for another day. The bottom line was that the nuchal fold (a sac of liquid at the base of the neck) measured considerably larger than it should have and the baby had a 95% chance of having something terribly wrong with it. We were advised to schedule a CVS test right away and to start talking about our options.

We were devastated. There is no other word. We scheduled the CVS and waited sadly (it would be a few days because of the New Year holiday). CVS, in case anyone tried to tell your otherwise, was unbelievably painful. Like holy shit that hurt. But it only lasts a minute, so you can grit your teeth and get through (they kept telling me to breathe, but if I was going to hold still, breathing was just going to have to wait). They do an initial screening of the extracted tissue right there, and they told us it looked really good. But it would be a week to ten days before the full results came in.

When they did, we learned everything genetically was fine and that we were having a boy. There was still a chance that the large nuchal fold meant a heart defect, so we had to schedule a specialized ultrasound for week 23. We were so happy, but still cautious. It was hard for us to believe that everything was suddenly okay (plus I was still having the massive bleeding episodes). Eventually, the bleeding stopped, all ultrasounds looked normal, my blood iron levels got back to normal (so I could do things like stand for more than five minutes and take a shower without wanting to pass out) and I was diagnosed with B12 deficiency and started shots for that. Then I had a spike in my blood pressure that had me seeing green spots, so I had to monitor that everyday to make sure it didn't get out of control (it remained borderline for the last month or so).

So went spent the entire pregnancy holding our breath in fear that something was wrong or about to go wrong. Oh, and bed rest wrecked me. I lost all muscle tone and by the time I could move around again I was too pregnant to do anything to get it back. It made every movement difficult and the first weeks post partum a little extra strenuous. And oh yeah, just for shits and giggles, my uterus fell, which resulted in my cervix hanging out for a few weeks. That was UNCOMFORTABLE. It went back in, thankfully. Has the potential to be a huge problem if I ever have another kid (another subject for another post).

So pregnancy sucked, big time. I mean, it had its moments, don't get me wrong. And at times it's easy to remember how special it felt to have him moving around inside me and to ignore the sciatica, the heartburn, the swelling, the discomfort, the pain, the constant worry....but I haven't forgotten and don't think I will that overall it was a really bad time. And that's why I didn't post through any of it.

I'm Back, Baby!

2011-03-07T16:50:00.005-05:00

It's been a while, huh? Well, things have been crazy cakes.

For starters, I done had a baby. The very baby featured as a small grainy surprise in my last post well over a year ago. His name is Nate and he's eight months old. I promise not to make this blog all about baby pictures, but it doesn't seem right to not show him off just a little.

There is a specific reason I stopped posting when I did, but many reasons why I didn't come back until now. In time, I hope to cover most of them. I can say for sure that time is one of them and finding it is near impossible.

While I know I do not want this blog to now be all about baby pictures, I don't know what I do want it to be about. I know I've been reading lots of blogs and finding myself being moved to comment more and more. I know some ladies have written such moving things lately that I want to expound on them more than a comment left on their blogs warrants. I know that not many people read this, but that it still feels good to work things out publically sometimes. Or is that publicly? I think I used to know.

I know I have to make an effort. If I can do it with housework, I can do it with blogging. Afterall, blogging is infinitely more enjoyable than cleaning.

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

2009-11-24T09:19:00.004-05:00

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

2009-11-20T10:47:00.002-05:00

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

2009-09-02T09:55:00.004-04:00

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

2009-07-28T09:06:00.003-04:00

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

2009-07-22T08:59:00.002-04:00

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

2009-07-21T08:31:00.003-04:00

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

2009-07-20T09:59:00.002-04:00

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

2009-06-23T08:50:00.002-04:00

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

2009-06-22T09:47:00.005-04:00

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

2009-06-19T08:38:00.003-04:00

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

2009-06-16T10:33:00.004-04:00

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

2009-06-02T09:12:00.004-04:00

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

2009-05-07T10:15:00.004-04:00

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

2009-05-01T11:28:00.003-04:00

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

2009-04-21T14:53:00.004-04:00

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.

The Sound of Side Effects

2009-04-02T08:46:00.003-04:00

Hello hot flash, my old friend
It's time to sweat with you again
As I sit here so tired
My body perspires
And the pills
I only took the one
Not close to done
The side effects of Prometrium

I've got a week to go
This week is really gonna blow
Walk around with my head spinning
Wishing I really was sleeping
And my brain, it will melt into mush
Can't think too much
The side effects of Prometrium

with apologies to Simon and Garfunkel

The Neverbaby's Neverpost

2009-04-01T08:55:00.004-04:00

I had a special post planned for today. I've been thinking about it for a couple weeks, considering all the different points I wanted to make, all the old feelings I wanted to share. But now that today has come and I'm sitting at the computer, I find I don't so much want to get into it.

Three years ago today I had what I believe to be a blighted ovum miscarriage. I say I believe I had it because, having no insurance at the time, I never got it confirmed by a doctor. And I call it my neverbaby because, not having it confirmed by a doctor at the time, if officially Never Happened. When a doctor or nurse asks me if I've veer been pregnant, I have to say no. That stings. But honestly only a little.

I didn't know I was pregnant until I had what I thought were the worst cramps of my life and then, eventually, a little ball of squish the size of a raspberry popped out of me. What the hell? After a fair amount of research to see if it could have been anything else, I finally settled on the blighted ovum. And I began to mourn.

I wanted to talk about that mourning. I wanted to talk about the oddness and sadness of it. I wanted to talk about a piece of paper I found last week when Dan and I were cleaning out our dresser. It was notes from when I read The Time Traveler's Wife nine months later. A character, Clare, suffers multiple miscarriages and reading it brought all the pain back to me.

But I was up at 5:30 this morning to get ready for a 7am appointment for blood work and ultrasound so I can get the go ahead on starting Prometrium to bring on my period. I'm sleepy. And I've moved on. I don't want to go back to the Sad Place. Not even just to write this one post. Maybe if we didn't place such importance in things like anniversary dates I would have written about this two weeks ago and it would have been a lovely, touching post that would do honor to what could have been.

But I went on with my life three years ago. I went on with my life two weeks ago. I went on with my life this morning. And I'm going on with my life now. I cannot go back to the Sad Place. Not today. I suspect there will be many unwanted visits as our journey through infertility continues. I read too often about women who are stuck there because their losses have been too devastating. No, not stuck there. That's not right. It's more like the Sad Place has taken up permanent residence in their hearts. I'm fortunate to not have that. I wish they didn't have to have it either, but life is cruel that way.

She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain

2009-03-27T10:43:00.003-04:00

I want to write today. My body is antsy for it. My fingers are twitching. But I got nothing.

This is how I know my period is coming. Always before she gets here, my creativity dies. All week I've been having ideas about things to write about and looking forward to finding the ways to say them. Today I can't remember a single one of them. I hate this point in my cycle. I can't even come up with anything to make for dinner!

I'm pretty sure I read about this years ago in a book called Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom. I wish I still had my copy (one of too many thigns left behind in my divorce) because I'd like to see what the good Dr. Northrup has to say about infertility. I was maybe 19 when I read it, so I wasn't really paying attention to that stuff at the time. I'll have to see if the library has it in stock.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom: Patience

2009-03-24T11:17:00.005-04:00

This morning while making my morning tea, I found on the counter this fortune from a Chinese food dinner a couple weeks ago: "Be patient! The Great Wall didn't got build in one day." Awesome grammar aside, there's an important message here--and really, when isn't there an important message in your fortune cookie?--that I'd do well to learn right now.

I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of my period so we can start our fourth Clomid cycle. More likely, I'm awaiting the arrival of day 30 of my cycle (today is day 23) so I can get the go ahead to start Prometrium to trigger my period because I don't think I ovulated this unmedicated cycle (big shock).

I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of my period so we can decide whether or not to visit Dan's mom for Easter. If my period comes between days 28-31, it's a no go because it will be time to start monitoring follicle development for IUI. She's so pleased that we're even considering coming that she isn't at all bothered that we can't make a decision about it until April.

I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of my period so we're that much closer to knowing next cycle's results so we can plan some getaways for the summer. Once I'm back on meds, I can figure out pretty much where we'll be cycle-wise all summer and can plan a couple of visits to friends and family accordingly.

I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of Spring. It's cold outside and I have planting to do.

"Patiently," in case you haven't caught on, is code for "hurry the fuck up."

Feeling Lucky, Punk?

2009-03-19T08:42:00.004-04:00

Natasha Richardson is dead. I'm not particularly affected by this news. I was aware of her existence, but she wasn't exactly on my radar. I've always respected her mother, Vanessa Redgrave, and her husband, Liam Neeson, well, he's a yummy specimen. But still, their tragedy is not mine and I do not feel it in any way.

Except this one way: I recently suffered my own head injury. And I knew then I dodged a major bullet. All I got was a bump on the head! But news like last night's about poor Natasha Richardson makes me recall, vividly and gratefully, that it could have easily been so much worse for me and for Dan.

So yes, today I'm feeling like a very lucky punk indeed.

In that spirit, I have found one pleasant thing about not being pregnant: the sweet relief of Claritin.

Operation: Bamf! or, The Great Tubal Migration

2009-03-16T09:45:00.004-04:00

At the end of my second HSG, the physicians' assistant, Wendy, said she thought the doctor would proceed with more aggressive drugs, i.e. injectibles, to encourage follicle development in both ovaries to ensure we'd have some action on the right side, where my open tube lives. She then said something like, "a tube can somehow pick up an egg from the opposite ovary." She did not seem to understand how this happened. In my mind, I'm thinking teleportation. Yeah, like Nightcrawler. I'm imagining the egg magically BAMFing across my uterus. Weird, yes, but also awesome if you're a geek like me.

A couple days later I speak to Gabrielle, who says the doctor wants to continue with the Clomid and add IUI, which was the plan before the HSG results. I get frustrated. I'm ready to try a little harder. I'm ready to take the bull by the horns. I'm ready to be pregnant. What happens if I ovulate on the left again? Why aren't we doing more to help ovulation on the right? She repeats the Legend of the Teleporting Egg. Super. I agree with the current plan, and then tell Dan that we'll try it once before insisting on more.

Then I turn to my true friend in all of this: the Internet. Dr. Spock has a website (well, I'm pretty sure he's long dead, but there's a site operating under his authoritative name) that explains just what happens. The fallopian tubes are not actually connected to the ovaries. They just kind of lay there. So if an egg develops on he left and the left tube cannot grab it, the right tube can sense chemicals being released by the ovary and float over to the other side and pick it up.

Does this happen regularly? It doesn't for me anyway, or else maybe I'd be pregnant already. But we'll see. It's possible next cycle that I'll ovulate on the right. If I do, we'll stick with the Clomid. But if I ovulate on the left yet again, we will b-e a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e and insist we move up on the drug ladder.

Share the Road

2009-03-10T08:56:00.007-04:00

A phrase can mean so much. For infertiles, "share the road" means don't keep it all to yourself. There are many of us going through the same struggles, the same stresses, the same disappointments. It can be such a relief to know that even though the people closest to you have no idea what you're going through, you are not alone. God bless the Internet, huh? But today, March 10th, "share the road" has a different meaning for me. Not today specifically, but today especially.

Five years ago, something terrible happened and my life began a slow and serious change for the better.

Five years ago, I was married to someone else and it was an awful marriage that made us both miserable. We fought, yelled, cursed, hated, ignored....we did everything but love. And we did this for about six years. A year before it was over, a fellow officer (the ex was--and presumably still is--in the Navy) at NNPTC was killed by a passing pick-up truck while riding his bike.

Garrett Wonders was a remarkable human being. I didn't know this during his life; we were not close. In addition to being a Naval officer, he was also a cyclist. A really good cyclist. Five years ago today, Garrett was out riding his bike, a training exercise for the Olympic trials (yeah, he was good enough to try out for the Olympics). The guy driving the truck that sideswiped Garrett probably--and by "probably" I mean "definitely"--should not have been driving. His vision was terrible, just not terrible enough by South Carolina's abysmal standards. If you want to be outraged, google "Garrett Wonders" and "Old Highway 52." That should lead you to some newspaper stories about it all. I'd talk more about it, but I don't want to be outraged today.

Today, I want to talk about how Garrett's death changed my life. It's kind presumptuous to say, isn't it? He wasn't more than an acquaintance to me (he was a rather good friend of my ex's though). Surely there are many people who can claim ownership of this tragedy. Well there are and they do. And they've done so many good things in Garrett's name, though it will never make up for their loss. There's a big new bridge in Charleston and the bike and pedestrian path is called "Wonders Way." There's a scholarship fund. There are memorial races. The good people who had this bad thing happen have moved on (his wife leads a wonderfully rich life; I've read her blog) with grace and honor. As they should. Based on the way he lived his life, I'm sure it's what Garrett would want.

And it's how Garrett lived his life that made his death have such a profound impact on me. He was a good friend, a wonderful (for give the pun) husband and a passionate human being. He went after life full throttle. His wife, Terri, didn't like going on rides with him because she couldn't keep up, so he got a couple of old bikes, cut them in half, welded them together and built a tandem so he could take her along once in a while.

A few weeks before he died, Terri and Garrett learned she was pregnant. Immediately he was reworking their financials to set up a savings account and things like that. About a week before he died, Terri had a miscarriage. They were devastated. But all Terri could say when Garrett died was that she was grateful they'd so recently gotten to spend that whole day together, just the two of them there for each other.

In the days that followed Garrett's death, I learned a lot about him, from his wife, his best friend Ben, his parents and his fellow cyclists. In the weeks that followed, I thought a lot about how unfair life was. About how it seemed so wrong that someone who meant so much to many people could so suddenly be taken away and how someone like me who barely existed could just go on barely existing in misery and hate.

Six months after Garrett died, a group of us (including his wife) went down to Savannah to get tattoos(at that time, though you could drive practically blind, you could not get a tattoo in South Carolina) to remember him by. I got mine on my left shoulder blade. I decided to get the tattoo to help remind me, every day, of how short life is and how important it is to try and live it to its fullest. (Five months after that, I told the ex I was leaving him.) Later, more friends and family got the same tattoo. There is a whole legion of us walking around with the same symbol that means something only to us walking around not in each other's lives but all carrying part of the same load. I hope every March 10th that Terri, Ben and Garret's mother remember us today and know that we have not forgotten Garrett or his impact on the world.

Since then, I certainly have not lived my life to the fullest. I don't know that I ever really can, at least not without therapy and Prozac. But I've lived my life better. Much better. I have a wonderful, loving husband who truly is my best friend and so much more. We're trying to start a family. I try to be grateful for the things I have and consider often how bad things were for me and how bad things can get. I try and let the small stuff go. I don't often succeed, but I try. I try. I try.

Yesterday's HSG showed a definite blockage in my left fallopian tube. It's basically useless. And since the last two times I had follicle growth it was in the left ovary, this explains a lot. Soon, I will talk to the doctor about our plan going forward. We have options and we are hopeful about them. And the test was not as bad this time. On a scale of one to ten, the first HSG was about a 14. This time, the catheter going in was like a 4 and the pressure of the dye (she used a lot of dye and a lot of pressure to try and force it through the left tube) was maybe a 7. Much more bearable.

But today, a lot seems bearable because of Garrett.

It's My Birthday and I'll Cry if I Want To

2009-03-06T09:07:00.003-05:00

Today I am 32 years old. I don't feel 32 years old. I don't feel any particular age really. I think my brain just stopped thinking about it a few years ago, so when someone asks me my age, I have to stop and do math. "What year is it? I was born in 1977 so that makes me...."

This is an off cycle for us. Three failed round of clomid with timed intercourse means not meds this month, plus an HSG. Next cycle we're back on clomid (I believe we'll do clomid again and not go to injectibles just yet) and adding in some IUI. But this month is nothing, unless we get lucky and I ovulate on my own. I've read it's fairly common for the effects of clomid to linger. We'll see. I'm not doing any kind of testing. I'll keep an eye on my cervical mucous and if conditions look favorable, we'll be sure to get it on at the appropriate time, but that's all I'm doing about it. No bloodtests, no ultrasounds, no sticks.

But because this is an off cycle and my next one won't start before April, it's pretty much settled that we won't be having a baby this year. It hurts to realize this. And you know what else? We only have like two shots before it's settled that we won't have a baby before I'm 33. This thought devastates me. But what doesn't lately?

Mailbox Narcolepsy

2009-03-03T10:44:00.002-05:00

I discovered this fantastic blog yesterday called Stirrup Queens. It's all about infertility and everything associated with it. It's got so much to read and relate to that I'm becoming obsessed as I explore it all.

Today I read this post from 2007 and I was so happy for someone to put into words the inability to make any decision because every decision seems overwhelming or impossible, from what to make for dinner to whether or not it's okay to plan a vacation for the summer because what if I'm pregnant and what if I'm not. The author calls this feeling "mailbox narcolepsy" and you'll have to read the link to find out why.

The most important thing I realized yesterday was that I'm a part of this huge community of infertility. This is not to say that I didn't know there were tons of people in this boat, but it's to realize that I am in fact on this boat. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own day-to-day that we don't see the bigger picture of what's happening to us. I'm not someone who just happens to go to the doctor several times a month to give blood and have my ovaries examined. I'm a woman dealing with infertility and I'll always be a woman dealing with infertility and there's no two ways about it.

Big Fat No

2009-02-27T10:00:00.004-05:00

So yesterday sucked. I arrive at the doctor's office at 6:50 in the morning for the all-important decider-of-everything blood test. By 7:25 I'm home again and the anxiety and stress have set in. I spent the entire day shaking, quite literally shaking, in nervous anticipation of Gabrielle's 3:00 phone call. Which did not arrive at 3:00. At 3:30, the phone rings, but it's Dan. "Did Dr. Yazigi call you?" No. "He called me. Left a message about 40 minutes ago to call him back to discuss your results." The doctor or the doctor's office called? "No, the doctor." Okay then. I call back, but he's with a patient. So more waiting, except now it's even worse because why the hell is the doctor calling and not the nurse?

Could it be good news? Maybe! Or maybe it's because it's bad news and he wants to discuss a change of course. That's a possibility. Even a probability. But maybe the doctor likes to get all the glory when it's good news. That's what's going through my head anyway. How high can hopes go? Mine were through the roof. Even though I knew, knew, that I was very likely not pregnant, I couldn't keep my hope in check. And I'd been doing so good this time. Resisted the urge to buy home pregnancy tests all week because I knew I wouldn't trust the results either way. I was patient! I was calm! I was only thinking about it every other minute! Until yesterday, when the stress of finding out consumed my every breath.

What happened when the doctor called back? Well, he didn't call back. I waited with my phone in front of me for two hours. Barely even got up from the chair I was sitting in. Wouldn't go to the bathroom. Wouldn't take Darwin out. Nothing. I didn't want to miss the call. I didn't want to be even slightly distracted during the call. So I sat in the chair at the desk in the office and waited. And shook. And didn't throw up. Just played out scenarios of how I would handle either result and thought about the questions I should ask.

After two hours, Darwin wasn't having it, so I had to take him out. When I came back inside, the doctor still hadn't called. I went on the computer to catch up at the BG and I had a PM from Dan saying that he was dealing with someone's issues at work and would be having a meeting starting at 5:00 and he'd be late.

Well that did me in.

I was nervous, scared, stressed out and alone. I'd been this way all day. And now he has the nerve to leave me alone even longer? On top of everything else, I was now filled with hate. I couldn't take it any longer. I threw on some clothes, threw Darwin in his kennel, got in the car and my in-no-shape-to-drive self went to Target and bought a home pregnancy test. I needed to know and couldn't wait until the next day for the doctor to be back in the office to find out.

When I came home, I freed Darwin and went right upstairs to pee on a stick. Then I stood over the sink and tried not to stare as one solitary purple line grew darker and darker. And that was it. I was alone in every sense of the word.

It was horrible as the hope died, escaping me in guttural sobs. It was horrible as hate and rage consumed me and I cursed Dan, his stupid job, the assholes he works with, the shit house we live in and this fuckhole of a town that's never felt like home to me. I hated that I'd gotten my hopes up. I hated that I'd gone through the whole day alone. I hated that the only person I could share any of this with too busy with other people's bullshit to even pick up the phone when the doctor called. I hated that Dan didn't even know he should check up on me a few times during the day, for moral support. I was hate. And grief. Because more than anything else, I hated that, once again, I wasn't pregnant.

Eventually Dan did come home. I couldn't even look at him. Soon after, Dr. Yazigi called to say it's not good news, that he wants to do another HSG (ouch!) after I get my period and that the following cycle it's time to move on to IUI. None of this was surprising. What was surprising was how I felt after I hung up. More grief. Apparently, there was still a part of me holding out hope that the home pregnancy test was wrong. Oh how it hurt for that last little nugget to dissolve.

But it did. And then we went out to dinner and I got drunk and was able to look at my husband without wanting to smash him.

Waiting....and Wishing....and Hoping

2009-02-13T09:46:00.004-05:00

Tuesday was my fifth ultrasound and bloodwork appointment in five days. A follicle was growing, but oh so slowly. Finally it hit 20mm and I was ordered to take the trigger shot. The trigger shot was Ovidrel, a synthetic hCG. I was nervous about mixing the solution, but it turned out to be not such a big deal. Dan was nervous about sticking me with a needle, but that was even easier. Then we were ordered to have intercourse Wednesday night and Thursday morning, which we did. I know. Hot. We did not do it again on Thursday night because we didn't feel like it and no one said we had to (again, hot), but of course now I'm a little worried maybe that was a mistake. But what else are the next two weeks for but worrying?

So this cycle is our big, For Real chance. One follicle grown to the right size. Trigger shot administered. Cervical mucous egg whitey. Intercourse perfectly timed. Prometrium shoved up there (ugh). Head cold to make things annoying. I think this cycle is also our last before a break and then switching to IUI. I haven't discussed the next step with the doctor yet because we don't like to get ahead of ourselves, so I don't know whether we'd be switching from Clomid to injectibles, though I don't see why we would since I do ovulate with this dosage. We'll see. Two weeks and those questions will be answered. Or, you know, hopefully not because things actually went right.

Day Ten Disaster

2009-02-05T11:19:00.003-05:00

Last cycle I ovulated early, so this cycle I went in for bloodwork and ultrasound on day ten, just in case. I guess I wasn't too close though, because go back in again tomorrow.

But that's no disaster.

When I got home yesterday morning, I took Darwin for a walk. There was snow on the ground, maybe a quarter inch, and underneath the snow there was a layer of ice that's been with us for about a week. Well, the ice hasn't been with us on the sidewalk in front of our house, but, you know, I take care of these things unlike a bunch f our neighbors. Anyway, I know there's the ice, Darwin's sliding all over the place and I'm attempting to step extra carefully.

Apparently, not carefully enough.

Suddenly, I feel my feet slip out from under me and I fall backwards, the back of my head slamming into the sidewalk. The next thing I know, I can't move. I feel tingling all over my body, but can't get up or even lower my head, which was stuck at least a couple inches off the ground. One neighbor is out shovelling his sidewalk and comes running when I start yelling "HELP ME! HELP ME! I CAN'T MOVE!" About two seconds later, Dan appears next to me. Luckily, he was just pulling out on his way to work and saw Darwin sitting at the corner alone barking and then noticed me laying on the ground. I quickly explain to both Dan and the neighbor that I hit the back of my head and I can't move. The neighbor says he heard my head hit and tells Dan to dial 911.

As Dan is talking to 911, the tingly gradually starts to subside and I can wiggle my fingers and toes, and then move my hands and feet and then my head starts lowering by itself. I slowly and carefully start checking to see if I can feel and move everything and, once I'm sure I'm okay, I have them help me sit up, much to 911's dismay. Dan asks if it's okay if they take me in the house and they pretty much say no, but I veto that since I'm sitting in the snow and ice, my pants are soaked through and it's freezing and snowing. Dan and the neighbor help me up and walk me back to the house, where we wait for an ambulance to arrive.

Darwin was a good dog when I went down and didn't go running away, He stayed about five feet away, barking the whole time. When we got in the house, he went back and forth from me to the open front door, where Dan was waiting for the EMTs (we could hear sirens approaching already). After only a few minutes, a fire engine pulls up and four guys come storming into the house. They firemen, so were they hot? Probably, but I couldn't move my head and no one got directly in front of me so I could get a good look. They slap a neck brace on me and tell me they'll carry me out on a board. Then an ambulance pulls up and three more people walk in the house. There's a lot of commotion and since I can't move my now throbbing head, I mostly just pay attention to confused little Darwin, who by now Dan is holding on the stairs.

The neck brace, incidentally, in incredibly painful because the back of it is pressing right into the giant lump forming on the back of my skull. Then they get me on this board--I pointed out that I walked into the house and could walk out, but that didn't go over so well with them--strap me, tape me down, carry me out and shove me into the ambulance. The ride is horribly bumpy and terrible since every bump bounces the back of my head off the board.

We only spent a total of three hours in the ER. X-rays showed no neck or spinal cord damage and I didn't have a concussion, so they sent me on my way with advice to put ice on the now baseball-sized bump for twenty minutes every hour for 48 hours (not really hitting that goal) and take ibuprofen (strictly sticking to this goal). This morning, everything hurts. The bump on the back of my head, the rest of my head obviously, my neck, my shoulders, my arms, sides and abdomen. The impact of the fall is really showing itself.

During the fall and the panic and fear of not being able to move and the confusion of all the EMTs and the ambulance ride, I was completely in the moment and did not think beyond how every part of me was feeling at each particular second. But once we were in the ER, waiting for the doctor, my mind was able to go over everything that happened. That's when it hit me just how quickly everything in life can change. I mean, I got really lucky. What if feeling hadn't returned to my body while Dan was on the phone with 911? When if my skull cracked on the ice and damaged my brain? I couldn't help but think of Garrett, innocently enjoying a training ride one minute and laying brain dead on the side of the road the next. How easily could that have been me? It's not a thought I can dwell on for long. Especially not with this headache.

Here We Go Again

2009-01-28T14:23:00.002-05:00

Day three of round three.

Seven follicles on the right and twelve on the left.

Clomid starts tonight, 50 mgs twice a day for five days, same as last time. But this time, I'll start going in on day ten for testing instead of day twelve.

The two weeks of prometrium was a hassle. I wasn't nearly as tired as when I take it orally, but after a few days, my energy was completely drained and I found it hard to concentrate on things and couldn't drive because I couldn't focus enough to notice things like other cars on the road. This time I know to do a bunch of grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning to cover us for about ten days.

On the bright side, since I didn't get pregnant last cycle, I was able to enjoy some fabulous sangria at our belated Christmas dinner with Jim and Marion at a Spanish restaurant called Tio Pepe.
I think a pitcher of sangria is something I should be allowed to indulge in after every unsuccessful cycle. In fact, I'm instituting that rule right now: no pregnancy = sangria.

Three Months and Two Rounds Later....

2009-01-13T09:02:00.006-05:00

....and we're in another two week wait.

After that cycle with natural ovulation was a bust, we went right into using Clomid, 50mg cycle days 5-9. There were three or four ultrasounds and blood tests and I definitely did not ovulate. Well, okay, the first round is really the test round anyway, to see how your body reacts to the drugs. My body hated the drugs. Fatigue, hot flashes, COLD flashes....it was not a pleasant five days.

After that cycle, we decided to not jump right into the next, for two reasons. One was that I would be due for all the ultrasounds and bloodwork during Christmas week, which we'd be spending in Las Vegas. The other was that if we were successful, it would put my due date right at my cousin's wedding, which I am determined to not miss. So instead, I spent half the vacation in a sleepy, dizzy, confused haze because of the Prometrium to start my next cycle (the last one clocked in at 56 days).

My period came quickly, and we started round two of Clomid, 100mg cycle days 3-7 (same side effects as last time). On cycle day 12 I went on for ultrasound and bloodwork and found out that I'd already ovulated! Great. When was the last time we had sex? Like a week ago? Super. If we'd known it was a possibility to ovulate so early, we'd have been doing it like rabbits.

So we did it that night and the next night I started Prometrium (200mg twice a day) again. This time though, I take it vaginally. It's lovely. Just lovely. At least the tiredness is greatly reduced and the dizziness and confusion are practically non-existent. It's still annoying though since I have to put up with this when I'm sure we missed our opportunity this cycle.

Next cycle will be our last before a break (can't do Clomid so many cycles in a row) and I'll be going in for bloodwork and ultrasound probably starting on day 10 instead of day 12. We will not miss another opportunity.

The 2WW

2008-10-23T11:49:00.004-04:00

The world of infertility--especially infertility message boards--is filled with abbreviations.

For example (e.g.), Dan and I did the BD three times EOD last week after a U/S revealed that I would O on my own. Now we have a 2WW until either AF comes or we take an HPT and hope for a BFP. If it's a BFN, we'll start Clomid and then another round of TIC.

Sexay!

The point is that Dan and I have about two weeks before we know whether or not our babymaking was successful. I think we're both doing our best to not think about it. I also think Dan is having a much easier time with that. Knowing that if I am not pregnant in a couple weeks we will roll right into a Clomid cycle is a great comfort though.

Here's a giant list of common abbreviations that I lifted from a post at ivillage's message boards:

1WW - 1 Week Wait (when you only have 1 more week until either AF shows or you take a HPT)
2WW - 2 Week Wait (the two weeks after you O when you're waiting either for AF to show or to take a HPT)
AF - Aunt Flo (your period or menstruation)
BF - Boyfriend, Best Friend, or Breastfeed
BIL - Brother-In-Law
BBT - Basal Body Temperature
BCP - Birth Control Pills
BD - Baby Dance (this is referring to having intercourse in an effort to produce a baby)
BFN - Big Fat Negative (negative result on a pregnancy test)
BFP - Big Fat Positive (positive result on a pregnancy test)
CB - Cycle Buddy (A girl on the board close to the same cycle day as you. You might choose her as a "buddy" and be supportive of each other as you go through your cycles together.
CBEFM - Clearblue Easy Fertility Monitor
CD - Cycle Day (This is usually followed by a number and signifies which day of your cycle that you're on. CD1 is the first day of your period and (if you have a 28-day cycle) CD14 would be the day you O.)
CM - Cervical Mucus
CP - Cervical Position
D&C - Dilation & Curettage
DD - Dear Daughter
DE - Donor Egg(s)
DH - Dear Husband
DI - Donor Insemination
DPO - Days Past Ovulation
DS - Dear Son
DSD - Dear Step-Daughter
DSS - Dear Step-Son
Dx - Diagnosis
ED - Every Day (usually refers to how often the couple is BD'ing)
Endo - Endocrinologist or Endometriosis I've seen it used both ways.
EOD - Every Other Day (usually refers to how often the couple is BD'ing)
EPO - Evening Primrose Oil (click on "BD'ing" under the FAQ page for an explanation)
EPT - Early Pregnancy Test (a pregnancy test that can detect pregnancy before AF is even due)
EW - Eggwhite (refers to a type of CM. Some ladies may type EWCM.)
FET - Frozen Embryo Transfer
FF - Fertility Friend
FIL - Father-In-Law
FMU - First Morning Urine
FRER - First Response Early Response (a popular brand of EPT)
FSH - Follicle Stimulating Hormone
GnRH - Gonadotropin Releasing Hormone
HCG - Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (pregnancy hormone)
HPT - Home Pregnancy Test
HSG - Hysterosalpingogram
Hx - History
IF - Infertility
IM - Intra-Muscular (injections)
IPS - Imaginary Pregnancy Symptoms
IUI - Intra-Uterine Insemination
IVF - In Vetro Fertilization
LAP - Laparoscopy
LH - Luteinizing Hormone (A huge peak of this causes O. This is the hormone that OPKs detect)
LMP - Last Menstrual Period (the first day of your last period)
LPD - Luteal Phase Defect
MC or M/C - Miscarriage
MIL - Mother-In-Law
MS - Morning Sickness
NP - Nurse Practitioner
O - Ovulate or Ovulation
OB/GYN - Obstetritian/Gynecologist
OPK - Ovulation Predictor Kit (ovulation test)
PCOS - Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome
PCP - Primary Care Physician (regular doctor)
PCT - Post-Coital Test
SI - Secondary Infertility
SIL - Sister-In-Law
T3 or T4 - Thyroxin (these are also thyroid hormones)
TIC - Timed Intercourse
TORCH - Toxoplasmosis, Other, Rubella, Cytomegalovirus and Herpes test
TRH - Thyroid Releasing Hormone
TSH - Thyroid Stimulating Hormone
TTC - Trying To Conceive
Tx - Treatment
US or U/S - Ultrasound
UTI - Urinary Tract Infection
WBC - White Blood Cells

I hope I don't struggle with this long enough to have to turn to shorthand for convenience.

R/X for Love

2008-10-22T15:01:00.003-04:00

Things did not all come together last month like they were supposed to--an annoying story not worth getting into--so we didn't get to start with the ovulation induction until this month. Last Wednesday made 31 days since my last period, so I go in for bloodwork and ultrasound so that we can induce my period. But what does Dr. Fistbump find when he sticks the wand up my lady hole? A follicle! Growing all on its own right there in my right ovary! A phone call later in the day with bloodwork results brought an unexpected prescription: Hit It. Or more accurately, have timed intercourse (TIC) once every other day for a total of three times, starting that day. So hit it Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Then head back to the office for more bloodwork on the following Wednesday (today) to test my progesterone levels to see if I did indeed ovulate. Which I did! All on my own! How 'bout that!

My Magnificent Ovaries

2008-09-19T14:55:00.006-04:00

Well, it's been a while and lots has happened. If I didn't hate blogging so much, maybe I would have kept up better. Let's see if I can recap everything that's been going on.

After the pelviscopy, Dr. Singh recommended that I start seeing the doctors at Shady Grove Fertility Clinic. They were actually very quick about getting us in for a consultation and once we were there, they were even quicker about getting the show on the road. We started with lots of blood tests so they could make sure everything was healthy to start. Then Dan went for a semen analysis. His boys are good to go. He's very proud.

Because my period did not come thirty days after my last one (surprise!), they decided to induce my period by prescribing a week's worth of Prometrium. First I had to have bloodwork and a vaginal ultrasound to confirm the lack of impending ovulation. Then I took the Prometrium for seven days. It made me fairly tired and extremely dizzy the whole time. But three days after I finished, my period was here. On day three of my period, it was back in for more bloodwork and another vaginal ultrasound. Instead of my regular doctor, Dr. Yazigi, this time I saw his partner, Dr. Katz. He measured my ovaries (normal) and counted follicles (16 right, 7 left). Dr. Katz proclaimed I had "magnificent ovaries!" and hit me with a fist bump as he left the office. Go team!

Yesterday, Dan and I consulted with Dr. Yazigi to discuss treatment options. At first he said he wanted to go with ovulation induction and IUI (formerly known as artificial insemination). After a few of our questions though, he decided that we could just go with ovulation induction for a couple cycles to see how that goes. We're happy with this plan, as I've long felt that predictable ovulation has been our biggest obstacle. So I go in tomorrow morning for bloodwork and vaginal ultrasound (which is about to become my normal routine) and if all looks good, they'll call in prescriptions for something to induce my period (not Prometrium this time) and Clomid (to make me ovulate).

There, that wasn't so much to catch up on. Probably I forgot something major.

If Everything Looks Good, Then Where's My Baby?

2008-08-07T08:39:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I went for the highly anticipated pelviscopy. This is a laparoscopic procedure. A small incision is made in the bellybutton, the abdomen is filled with a gas, a scope goes in to see what's what and, if necessary, some things are taken care of. A second small incision was made in my lower right abdomen, I guess to get a better view of some stuff. Which stuff, you ask? This stuff!

What you're looking at here is a perfectly healthy reproductive system. No endometriosis, no cysts, no nothing. The uterus is pink and happy, the ovaries are white and smooth, the fallopian tubes aren't stuck to anything....everything's good.

So why am I not getting pregnant? Well, we know the left fallopian tube is blocked. Why that is though remains a mystery. It is slight dilated, so that may or may not have something to do with it. We know I don't ovulate every cycle. Why that is we have yet to determine. Surely some of it is due to the left tube being blocked. Whether the right side drops its eggs every other cycle we have yet to determine. (Did I mention that I did actually ovulate last cycle? Well, I did.)

What we also have yet to determine is Dan's sperm count. That's our next step. He can hardly wait. I go for a post-op exam in two weeks and Dr. Singh will tell us then where to have that done.

If Dan's sperm count is normal, the plan is to continue trying to conceive naturally for six months. If we still haven't managed to make a baby, we'll talk about our options then.

In the meantime, my bellybutton is back and blue, my abdomen is kind of sore, my shoulder is really sore and my throat is really, really sore. And I'm crazy thirsty, no matter how much liquid I consume.

Funeral for a Fallopian Tube

2008-07-03T12:09:00.006-04:00

"Forget about the left tube. You don't need it."

This is the advice Dr. Singh gave us yesterday when discussing our options. Great, huh?

I was in for a colposcopy to investigate abnormal pap smear results. I was 98% sure it was just some random inflammation, but I was wrong. There is a spot on the 1:00-3:00 area of my cervix that we will have to monitor. It could just be an infection that my body will take care of its own, but that process could take 12-18 months. I'll have another colposcopy in six months to monitor whether there's been any change. If there hasn't or it's gotten worse, then Dr. Singh will have to take a biopsy and we'll see what's what. The good news is that the colposcopy didn't hurt at all, aside from the general pain of the speculum and a little (typical for me) cramping for a couple hours afterwards.

After the colposcopy, Dan and I sat down with Dr. Singh to discuss what to do about my blocked fallopian tube. He said he wants to do a pelviscopy next to determine whether my right tube is hanging free or stuck to the side of my uterus or abdomen. I asked about unblocking the left tube and he said we don't need to worry about it because it only takes one functioning tube to get pregnant. The phrase "putting all our eggs in one basket" seems appropriate.

He also said that because I didn't ovulate with my last period, I should go for another blood test ten days before my next expected period (we're sticking with the assumption of a 40 day cycle). If it again shows I did not ovulate, and it the pelviscopy shows a healthy right fallopian tube, he'll put me on drugs to make me ovulate. We did not discuss what we do if the right tube has problems. Still hoping for the best.

Oh, and I did finally get my chocolate milk shake. It was at a frozen custard place called The Meadows and it was pretty tasty. Dan had a "dirty turtle" cone. I think he liked it.

Dude, Where's My Milkshake?

2008-06-30T09:24:00.005-04:00

During an HSG test, the doctor opens you up wide with the speculum, applies some cleanser to your cervix, sticks something up your cervix that "pinches a little," inserts a catheter through the cervix into the uterus, inflates a balloon at the end of the catheter to hold its place in the uterus, injects a dye through the catheter and then watches on an x-ray screen as the dye (hopefully) flows from the uterus through the fallopian tubes.

Holy shit did it hurt.

It was recommended I take four ibuprofen beforehand, which I did. I don't think they helped too much during the test, but they definitely helped afterwards; I didn't realize just how much until I let them wear off, which was a really stupid thing to do. After everything was inserted and Dr. Singh started injecting the dye, the catheter popped out of my uterus, so we had to go through the whole process again. I thought I was going to pass out. I somehow managed not to cry, but told the doctor through clenched teeth and teary eyes that he'd better get it right this time, because we will not be trying a third time. One of Dan's co-workers recently had this test done too and she said it didn't hurt her at all. But I just read that the severe pain seems to only happen in women with blockages, and she didn't have any. My left tube, however, is completely blocked. The doctor gave me this very scientific diagram. See how the dye shoots out of the right side?

There was a little blood right after the test, considerable pain (not exactly like period cramps) for about twenty-four hours after and then spotting of blood and dye two days later.

Dan was not allowed in the room because, you know, radiation. Very glad he came though because there was no way I could have driven afterwards. However, he did not buy me a chocolate milk shake. Instead, we made the seven hour drive to Toledo, Ohio. Maybe not the best recovery choice ever, but I was feeling much better by Friday evening, so it all worked out.

In addition to the colposcopy Wednesday, Dan and I are having a consultation with Dr. Singh to discuss our options. He said something about a laparoscopy, but I was in too much pain Thursday to pay attention. He told me to do some research and come armed with questions. He also told me the progesterone serum showed I did not ovulate. What tests that means I do not yet know. What I do know is that Dan will be buying me a chocolate milk shake afterwards.

There Will Be Cramping

2008-06-17T13:02:00.004-04:00

Newsflash: the pale line counts! Well, maybe. I ended up going for the progesterone test on Monday, as originally planned (results pending). This Monday (yesterday) I got my period. That's a 39-day cycle this time, if you're counting (we are), which means I should have been ovulating when I peed on that stick. It also means that I had to call to schedule the HSG test.

But let's talk more about the blood test. Here's the conversation I overheard in the waiting room:

Girl: You don't need to start a whole riot over it.
Guy: I'm just saying that they may not even know what they should have coming to them.
Girl: It's none of your business.
Guy: It is because I got ripped off too.
Girl: Then you should just go to the person who's paying you--my father--and settle it with him.
Guy: But it's not right if he's not paying everyone what they're owed.
Girl: My father's not scamming anyone.
Guy: He's not paying them their overtime.
Girl: Because he doesn't owe it to them.
Guy: Yes he does. They're working well over forty hours a week. More than eight hours a day, five days a week. That's overtime and he's not paying it.
Girl: Who cares? They're just Mexicans.
Guy: Are they really.

*now seems like a good time to point out that the girl is white and blonde and the guy is not white, though I couldn't tell if he was latino, asian or south pacific*

Girl: ....
Guy: Are. They. Really.
Girl: No....I mean, they're just students.
Guy: ....
Girl: Look, the point is you don't have to go starting a whole riot over it.

I was really bummed that this is when the girl was called back to have her blood drawn. I was ready for a full blown race riot. Plus I was a having a really good hair day, so when the news cameras showed up, I was going to be ready for my close-up.

So the HSG is going to be next Thursday. The office manager says, "You should take something you can tolerate, like ibuprofen, an hour beforehand. There will be cramping. Take four." A medical professional is telling me to take twice the recommended dosage? Yeah, this is going to be a fun test. Someone (Dan) better buy me a milkshake (chocolate) when it's done.

Abnormal Results

2008-06-06T10:14:00.004-04:00

So, I was all set to talk about ovulation kits and the stupid results that never seem to make things as clear as the brand name suggests when Dr. Singh called.

I mean, come on. You pee on those sticks a hundred times and never get a second line. Then finally you get a second line and it's not quite like the first line but it's not insubstantial either.

I mean, how is a girl supposed to figure that out? Have sex anyway, I guess. I mean, you can't really go wrong with that plan, but still. If you rarely get a second line to appear at all, wouldn't you think that anything showing up on there means something? And what if you never get anything darker than that? Argh! I hate being a slave to these tests.

So anyway, I was all set to talk about that when Dr. Singh called. Apparently my pap smear results came back abnormal. This can mean either inflammation, infection or cervical cancer. If I had to guess, I would say it's simply some inflammation since I had just come off a rather lengthy and annoying period. But of course, there is now a little ball of anxiety in my stomach preparing for disaster. No way to avoid that feeling, I guess. So on July 2nd, I go for a test called a colposcopy, which basically means Dr. Singh looks at my cervical lining really closely.

Oh, and I haven't gone for the serum progesterone yet. If the ovulation stick was clearer, I'd have gone this week. But since it's indeterminate, I'll head to the lab on Monday, as originally planned.

This is the Way the World Begins....

2008-05-29T08:59:00.016-04:00

Dan and I want to have a baby. We were married October 6th and haven't been using protection since then. I've been monitoring my cervical mucous and peeing on sticks to make sure we don't miss an ovulation cycle. And, at times, we've been going at it like rabbits. But like for so many people, all this has resulted in is bigger profits for Target as we continuously replenish our supply of ovulation kits, pregnancy tests and KY Jelly.

And what a waste of money! Well, not the KY - that stuff's a godsend. But the pregnancy tests would be totally unnecessary if I'd just exercise a little patience. And the ovulation kits? Well, my cycle is so off-the-charts irregular--anywhere from 5 weeks to 11 weeks apart--that unless I pee on a stick pretty much every day of my life, it's hard to catch. That's if I'm even ovulating with every cycle, which I'm pretty sure isn't true.

So yesterday was my first visit with my new ob/gyn, Dr. Singh at GBMC. Very nice guy. He did a basic pelvic exam (my uterus is of normal size and in the normal place!) and a pap smear (yeah, that was comfortable) and then we talked about how to proceed. He's sending me for a blood test in a week and a half to test my progesterone levels. We picked the day based on a 40 day cycle. Because that's going to work out. But I'll go and he'll see that my levels are low. Then on the first day my next cycle, I'll make an appointment for an HSG (hysterosalpingogram) test, which involves injecting dye into my uterus and then watching through an x-ray as it travels through my fallopian tubes, to see if there are any blockages or other abnormalities. "This one you bring your husband. You don't drive after."

Oh, joy.