A Slight Dilemma

This is a post that I've been toying with, for a while now. I was unsure about putting it here, because it means dragging up a lot of past shit regarding this person. Suffice it to say, it's gonna be a long one.

Here's the question of the day-how do you deal with Fertiles that don't "get it"-especially when they're a close friend or family member?

My best friend, M, have always told people that we've known each other "since fetus"-our parents knew each other socially even before we were born. We went to part of grammar school together, lived down the street with each other, were in Brownies and Girl Scouts together, talked every day....you get the picture. We were like sisters-she was an only child, I had an annoying little brother (who we both unmercifully teased).

So, when I moved away, at age 14, to rural NJ, it was like seperating conjoined twins. She stayed in the urban area where we grew up, went to Catholic high school, listened to club music and became a guidette (if you don't know what that is, watch any episode of "The Sopranos", and you'll get a perfect visual example)-and I can say that because we're both Italian. My teenage years were the total opposite-I went to public high school in a rural area, where most people wore LL Bean, JCrew and Outback Red clothing-really, it was kind of like being in a John Hughes movie-there were the burnouts, punks, preppies, and tramps-all mixing together. We listened to REM and The Cure, hung out at house parties at the weekend, or partied in open fields with bonfires (and that's when we weren't out cow-tipping....yeah, I tried it). In other words, we were total opposites once we moved our seperate ways, yet we still were best friends.

So, how did we do it? Beats the hell out of me, really. We hung out more in college, since it was closer to her (she didn't go to school right away, and lived at home), were in each other's weddings, and I'm the godmother to her daughter. We've been through it all together-car accidents (when we were 17-she was driving), summers at the Shore, my infertility treatments (where she, being a nurse, did my PIO shots), her marriage and subsequent divorce. But, it seems that, within the past year, there's been a slight growing apart-perhaps I shouldn't call it that. It's more like a situation of not truly understanding.

M got pregnant in October of 2000-in fact, she thinks that she conceived the night of my wedding after being off birth control for a month (well, at least SOMEBODY did, right?). Her daughter was born in July of 2001. We decided to start trying in June of 2002.......and, well, you know the result of that. Throughout this journey of mine, M has tried to be supportive of what I'm going through, but I really think that her status as an already-mother slightly skewed her perception. She couldn't understand why I'd be reluctant to go to her daughter's birthday parties (filled with our friends and their children) or why I wasn't jumping for joy that so-and-so was pregnant for the first, second, or third time.

Now, she was having problems of her own at the time, problems that even her family or I (being her best friend) had no idea of-a husband who was verbally abusive, emotionally uninvolved with both her and her child, irresponsible and lazy. In fact, it wasn't until two years ago that she confessed that they were having big problems and was at her wits end. They tried therapy, but he didn't want to go. They did seperate (in fact, he packed up and left-in front of their daughter-the night they returned from a trip to Disney World....nice guy, huh?) and eventually divorced. Now, that is something that I've never, and hope to never, go through. She went through hell-disentangling their marriage-the new house they bought three months before, child support, who'd get the dog, etc. Unfortunately, she's still has to have contact with him, because of their child, and he can be, well, a self-centered prick-he cares more about working and seeing his girlfriend than when his daughter will be with him. Which doesn't surprise me, really-if it's not about him, it doesn't matter, at least in his eyes.

But, I digress-the point is that M did go through a rough time, and this all ran concurrent with IVF attempt #1, failed FET #1 and part of IVF#2. She would call me and have hour long rants about what a dickhead her ex was, go through every detail of who said what, what the lawyers said, what he's doing/not doing with their daughter. And then, perhaps to seem like she's interested in what's going on with me, she'd ask me what's going on in the infertility front, and I'd tell her. Of course, she wasn't really listening, because the next conversation we'd have, she'd ask the same questions, and some of them are those typical IF questions that we've all heard before.

I now realize that she couldn't emotionally deal with anything at the time, given that she was going through such a messy divorce, and was being self-centered because of that. However, it seems to me as if that self-centerdness is still going on. It's as if I don't rate on the scale because I don't have kids, or that I don't understand because I haven't been through what she's been through. She's also a bit of a control freak, and has had some medical issues due to stress.

Lately, she's been through some gyno issues-she's tested positive for HPV, has had to have some biopsies and a LEEP done. Her twato (who I also go to) told her that if she wanted to have more children, she should try within the next year or so. So now she's obsessed with whether or not she should have more kids, or that she's going through early menopause, because the twato took her off the Pill almost three months ago and her cycles are wacky-she's on day 32 without a period yet. And, she when she calls me she talks constantly about these things, which is starting to really piss me off. In fact, yesterday's conversation about this made me say to her, "look, I think that you're talking to the wrong person about this, because you've got one child already", which shut her up for about one minute, then went on about how she looked up things on Dr. Google and she thinks that she's going through early menopause, because she has hot flashes. And this is from a person who is a registered nurse, people.

Now, I'm really trying to be supportive and to listen to what she's saying, but I think that she's being ridiculous about this. Perhaps she thinks that we now have "common ground" because she now has a gyno issue, but really, it is in no way similar to what I'm going through. She also seems to blow me off an awful lot-like this morning. We were originally planning on doing a trip to the Shore, but it's shitty rain outside. She decides that she has some errands to run, so when I talked to her at 10 this morning, I suggested lunch plans. She hesitated, then said that she thought that sounded good, but that she'd call me while she was on her errands to let me know for sure (a dead giveaway that plans would fall through)-and, subsequently, the phone call came about a half hour ago that she "didn't think that she could meet today, but maybe after her manicure/pedicure tomorrow......", like I'm just another slot in her schedule, squeezed inbetween her nail and chiropractor appointments. When she said that, I replied "Yeah, I figured that you wouldn't be able to, you didn't seem like you could when I asked you"; to which I got the "tomorrow, Plan B" line, and where I then lied and said that I had plans tomorrow. Because I just don't want to deal.

So, my problem is multi-layered-I think that she's being an ass (and I'm not the only one-Sean has noticed it too, and he NEVER says anything negative about people) and really self-absorbed, but do I risk a potential blow-out argument over it? Because, given how I feel, it might happen if I tried to broach the subject. Do I ignore it, or is that like letting her get away with it? Am I being oversensitive, given that she has a child and I'm in what seems to be perpetual baby-limbo? Am I expecting too much from her? Is it worth it, or is it really my problem, not hers?

What would you do?

Poopapalooza, Part Deux

Last night Sean and I went to the uber-swanky Short Hills Mall for a little shopping and dinner (there's a great Italian restaurant there). We are in the process of giving our only bathroom a little facelift-when we moved in (six years ago) we did the absolute basics in there, with the understanding that eventually we'd fix the rest up-and we ran to Restoration Hardware to buy a shower curtain and bath rug. And the bonus-a White Sale-NICE!

We've decided to do the colors in the bathroom in sky blue (with other blues in the same color family added in) and white-adding white beadboard to the wall to cover up the pits the last owners left there when they tore the wall tile down, rip out the 30 year old tile in the tub, get new fixtures,take out the laminate flooring and add tile, put in a new vanity mirror and lights, blah blah blah. I am extremely fortunate that Sean gets a hard-on when doing this stuff-plus, he's so good at it-and since he's doing all the work we can splurge a bit on some things. In fact, the man is downstairs mixing paint to get the right color of blue for the wall (we had leftover blue paint from the original living room that he's doctoring up to make the shade we need)-how did I luck out with such a handy guy?

Well, on the way home after our yummy dinner we had to stop off in the local pharmacy to buy what Sean called my "Pooper Kit"-hemorroid cream, pads and stool softener. Upon finding the correct aisle in the store (of course, it just HAD to be right next to the pharmacy pick-up counter, which was heavily populated at the time), I was amazed at the amount of medications used to treat those little fuckers. There were creams, cooling gels, medicated pads, suppositories, and swabs; all advertising their charms and guaranteeing to shrink, numb, and blast them into oblivion, whist adding oils to protect that delicate area from overdrying. So, I was just standing there, overwhelmed, and NOT about to ask for help. I finally grabbed my two tubes (Preparation H, if you really want to know-one ointment, one cream), found the stool softener (Colace-my mom says that they give it to the patients in her assisted living facility, and well, if the old people can deal with it so can I) and met Sean in the card aisle. I shoved the entire lot into his hands and told him to go and pay at the counter. Payback is a bitch-that's what he gets for making fun of me.......now the nice counter man can think he has a pooper problem.

Anyway, after I got home, I slathered the stuff in the appropriate area, popped a Colace, and went to bed. After breakfast this morning I got the inevitable need to.....well, you know.....and made my way upstairs to the torture chamber....oh, sorry, I meant toilet...and found...........THAT IT ACTUALLY WORKED-WOOT!

We're not out of the woods yet, but no bleeding (was still a little sore), and the lump has definitely shrunken down, so it means that we're on our way.

Now, if only my ute and vah-jay-jay would be as cooperative as my pooper.........*sigh*

(Piles Of) Piles

So, what's a post from me that doesn't have to do with things down in the nether region, right?

Except, this time it's to do with the bunghole, not the poonanny. So, brace yourselves for a little (okay, a LOT) of TMI-

It seems that I have a slight case of....well......it's a bit embarrassing, really........

Hemmorhoids. Piles. Ouch.

It sort of started after Poopapalooza 2006 - I started feeling a little uncomfortable in the pooper region, then, a few days later I realized, as the poop started becoming more solid, that it was sore and kinda hurt. Well, I thought that it healed, but apparently I've not been eating enough fiber in my diet, because the past few days has not been great, defecatingly speaking. This morning's poop revealed some bleeding on the TP, and now my butt is sore.

Here's where the TMI comes in (not like it hasn't been already, right?). I called my mother for a little (moral support) medical advice, and she asked me if I looked down there to see what was going on.........whoa! Ewww......but yeah, I actually had to inspect the area, and there's something down there-not huge, but there. Gross.

According to Dr. Mom, there ain't much I can do for it, besides pain relief (which isn't too bad, really, just annoying at times)-it has to resolve itself. Oh, yeah-and apparently I need more fiber in my diet. So today's food intake included Multi-Grain Cheerios, a toasted whole-wheat roll with peanut butter and some green apple slices.

Not looking forward to the next Poop Fest, that's for damn sure.

'Rroids SUCK.

I've Been Sprung!

Yes, it's true.......it's Summer Vacation-I'm officially off for the summer!

Game on-let the babymaking games begin!

Dates (and Other Things)

June 21st--7 days until the end of the school year......

July 10th--27 days until I meet with Dr. Pipsqueak to discuss my FET protocol, and hopefully get a date to transfer something....

As to when I'll get my period, God only knows. I certainly feel the old hag's imminent arrival, with the crampiness (more so than usual, due to that built-up lining), bloating, sore tits and the mega-bitchiness that's cropped up. Let's just hope it's soon, so it won't mess up a potential transfer.

Other than that, I'm tired as all hell. It doesn't help that we had field day at school today, and I spent the day outside in the 85 degree sun, minus a hat (but I did actually remember the sunscreen-woot!). I have so much to do to prepare for the end this year-end of term grades, inventories, achievement certificates to fill out, cleaning, and I am so not in the mood for it. I suppose that the heat has exacerbated the laziness that one would normally feel when the weather gets warm, but I really need to push past that.

Once I've had a little snooze, perhaps I'll get around to doing just that.

Ode to Mammaries

Sung to the tune of "O Tannenbaum"

O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
How large and firm your masses;
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
They're as big as the butts of young lasses.

That HCG did make you grow,
When they will shrink, God only knows;
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
How large and firm your masses.

O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
How perky are your nipples;
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
They look like huge unpopped pimples.

They look so pointy, they're always hard,
They're cutting glass and leaving shards;
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
How perky are your nipples.

O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
When will you shrink back down?
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
Stop poking out of my gown!

I will not beg, I will not plead,
But if you don't leave, I'll make you bleed.
O Mammaries, O Mammaries,
When will you shrink back down?

All Is Well

Thanks for the support-you girls are awesome.

The bloodwork came back-no problems. In fact, it came back better than the previous day. They'll get the urine results today sometime, but I haven't had a high fever since early yesterday morning (101.1), so I'm sure that it will come back with no problems. No squitters either. My sphinter is quite happy with that, as you can imagine. The only thing that sucks was the dildocam and internal Dr. Pipsqueak gave me-jaysus, that hurt! But, she had to see if either of my ovaries were enlarged or tender (which they aren't-just my poonanny), and she was really nice about it and did apologize, so I won't hold it against her.

This morning, I had what could be called a glorious defecating experience. Not to gross anyone out, but it was in one piece, slid out easily and was looong-like,so long it was one of those sticking-up-out-of-the-toiletwater-kinda shits. Hey, it's better than water pouring out of your butt, right?

C'mon-don't tell me you don't talk about your poops. M and I only really talk on the phone when we're on the bowl-for some reason, whenever we get on the telephone, one (or both) of us get a sudden urge to shit, and we're not about to wrap up our scintillating conversation (usually about the white-trashiness of her fuckwad ex-husband) to do our business. We both rejoiced as pre-teens when cordless phones were invented and accessible-we didn't have to hear our mothers curse and yell at us when they inevitably tripped over the extra-long phone wire that snaked across the hallway and under the closed bathroom door.

So, yeah, all is well. I'm just staying home again today (why go in for one day; and, anyway, they won't let you back to school unless you've been fever-free for 24 hours) as a precaution, but I feel great. I even weighed myself and I lost 4 pounds-woot! 10 more to go and I'll be a hottie. Now I just need to make an appointment for the follow-up, wait for Aunt Flo to make her appearance (won't be fun, I'm sure-my lining yesterday was still over 7mm) and prepare for my FET. I feel much more optomistic now, like perhaps this will work out.

Of course, it's probably that bitch Hope (as well as the HCG still lingering in my bloodstream) working her white voodoo on me, but , for now, it's okay-I'll allow it.

Running Grrl.........Literally

Hyperstim check went okay. Came home and tried to veg, then realized that I had to go......you know, go. Have had the squitters since then, as well as a fever, and achiness in my lower back and pelvis.

SHIT. Called Nurse Blondie, who called me back and said to make sure that I take lots of Tylenol and push fluids, and if my temp went higher to call back.

She then called again, 45 minutes later, saying that she talked to Dr. Pipsqueak, who wants me in at 8:30 tomorrow morning for an exam, bloodwork and a pee test.

Fuck. Why now? Why get sick now?

I really hope I don't have an infection, because then my ass will get admitted, and we all know that will be no fun for S.

I'll update more tomorrow, after the appointment.

And The Winner's Are......

Okay, out of 34 eggs, 22 of them fertilized. 13 were already frozen, and the remaining 9 are being cultivated to 3 day stage, then will be cryopreserved as well.

Holy motherfucking shite. As of today, I have 22 embryos.

I've been hoping that I'd never have to do another ER again. By the looks of this, somebody actually heard my prayers.

I'm feeling a bit better, although I am still bloated, but at least I'm not in as much pain as I was yesterday. Definitely sore, but not in pain. I'm supposed to go back to work tomorrow, but I might just take another day, considering. I also have my OHSS check tomorrow morning, so I can just go and then come home and take it easy.

22 embryos. I have 22 embryos.

Still Alive

ER went well. Am very sore. VERY sore. And bloated.

34 eggs were retrieved. Holy shit-that's more than my first two attempts put together. As to whether there were 34 mature eggs, we'll find out tomorrow, before they're all frozen.

Barfed at the hospital, after they gave me 50mcg of Fentanyl-apparently I was in a lot of pain afterwards (gee........can't imagine why). Nice nursey had to clean the sick out of my hair. Ewww.....at least the curtain was closed.

That's all for now. I'll post more when I hear about the fertilization report.

Need to take drugs now.

It's All About The Estradiol

Tomorrow's the big day-retrieval at 10am, be there by 9. Don't wear perfume, hairspray, jewelry, or deodorant (ewww.....).

Today's date with Dr. C. revealed that my E2 yesterday was at 4500. My lining is over 11, which really doesn't matter at this point, right? I'm sending Sean out for the OHSS Survival Kit (Pedalyte, Ensure, pineapple juice, low-sodium chicken broth) tonight, and he's oh so looking forward to playing Spank The Monkey tomorrow morning.

I got a message from the nurse this afternoon, telling me to be back in the office Wednesday morning for an OHSS check. Depending on how my follicles look in the ultrasound is whether or not they'll need to draw blood. Yay.

It's all set. I'll report more when I get back.

Falling Off The Saddle, At Least, For Now...

As of today, the retrieval is set for Monday morning. As to what time, I won't know until later this afternoon, when I get the phonecall from the nurse.

There are still 20+ follicles in there, and they've really grown in just 24 hours. I've got a few at 20mm, the rest are ranging from 12-17mm. Hopefully we're looking at a fair number of eggs retrieved, because.........

My E2 levels on Thursday were 2100, Friday's were over 3000, and today will be 4000 (or more). Due to this, Dr Pipsqueak and Dr. C feel that a transfer this cycle is out of the question, due to the growing (hah!) likelihood of OHSS. So, we'll have all the eggs retrieved, fertilized, and frozen, and transfer them after a rest cycle (we're talking late July/August). They're even halving my HCG trigger from 10,000 units to 5,000 to avoid hyperstimulation afterwards, and I have to go in yet again tomorrow morning for bloodwork and a date with the Follicular Lurve Wand to see what's up.

Fuck. FUCKFUCKFUCK! Why can't a fresh cycle go smoothly for me, just once? It ain't too much to ask, really.

I know, I know........it could be a lot worse. I could be a poor responder, have shitty lining issues, blahblahblah.....but it still sucks. What I really want to know is why, every time I have a fresh cycle, my estradiol gets so out of control. I don't have PCOS, everything else is normal......so, what the fuck?

Dr. C was very nice about it all. She said that she knew that it's not easy for me to hear, considering my history, but that they want me as healthy as possible for a good transfer. Plus, if they did a transfer and I somehow got pregnant, I'd definitely hyperstimulate, and that's more dangerous than if I wasn't pregnant. She said that someone in my situation (doing a "freeze-all" cycle) at Big Important Clinic has an 85% percent success rate. And, there's a good chance I can do another natural cycle, which means no more drugs.

Considering that my two fresh cycles failed and the only time I got pregnant was on a frozen cycle, it makes sense. So, why don't I feel better about this?

Miss S and the Case of the Dropping Stims Dose

Well, the past few days has been interesting-at least in the reproductive sense.

Wednesday's appointment showed that my E2 level went from 540 (on Mon) to 850 (Tues) , and that those 20 follicles are still bubbling away in there, all measuring around 11mm. Nurse Blondie instructed me to reduce my meds from 100 units down to 50 units. Today's date with the Follicular Lurve Wand and Dr. C showed that the follicles are still brewing-the biggest ones are on the left side (the biggest one measures at 15mm). The right side still measures around 11-12mm, but Dr. C told me not to worry, they'll catch up. She also said that anything over 17 mm is good for retrieval.

I asked Dr. C about my E2 numbers this morning, and she said that they went up, from 850 to over 1500.........Whoa! The numbers today must have been higher today, because Nurse Blondie's voicemail message today instructed me to drop the FolliSTING dose again, down to 25 units, and to come in again tomorrow. I'm starting to get a bit worried, since they can't really drop me down any more (25 is the lowest dosage you can have), and I'm afraid that if they start coasting me I'll end up with crappy eggs. So, think good growing thoughts for them, so I don't get screwed (medically, of course-because I certainly don't want that near my cooter right now).

I also asked about an estimated retrieval date, and she really couldn't say, but that if she had to give a window, she'd say within 4-6 days. So, hopefully between Monday and Wednesday. Which is good, since I'm getting a bit uncomfortable......it's starting to feel like there's an extended family of squatters residing in my pelvic region, and they won't turn the fucking music down at three in the morning. Bastards.

I do have to say, although there is a block party going on in my ovaries right now, I'm feeling pretty good-not nauseated or lethargic, which I was the last two times. I also LOVE the RE's at Big Important Clinic-hell, I'd even bring coffee and pastries for Dr. C , if she didn't wonder if I was trying to hit on her (considering that she's got her dildocam-laden hand in my coochie every morning). I am getting bloated though, which sucks-I can't fit into any of my pants or capris, and , well........wearing dresses to the RE's office poses a problem when you're asked to drop your panties and assume the position. I'm always worried that I'll look like a college 'ho getting a quickie on a Thursday night, hitching up my dress around my waist and wrinkling the fuck out of it. People will start wondering if I sleep in my clothes. Hell, looking at the bruises across the insides of my arms, they probably already think I'm shooting up, so what the fuck difference does it make, really?

*Sigh*-it could be worse, I know. I'm just getting antsy-I want this to be all over.