Thursday, February 22, 2007

Pity Party-Table for One

Well folks, the pity party is in full swing.

To say that I'm disappointed is an understatement. To say that I'm absolutely gutted is probably more accurate. I cried my eyes out on Monday-literally. I actually broke a blood vessel in my left eye due to all the crying and blowing of the nose, so now I look AND feel like shit.
The "crime scene" also arrived promptly yesterday at lunchtime, and what a doozy it is. I had forgotten just how much I adore the After Progesterone Period-large clots and all. Wonderfuckingful. And then, Murphy's Law being a cruel thing with a nasty sense of humor, I had to wait in the self-serve line to buy the mega-box of Tampax at the supermarket next to a hugely pregnant woman, who was on a junk food binge, from looking at her handbasket.

*Sigh* Just another day in my fucked-up existence.

I'm angry, fuming. What the hell did I do wrong? Why won't this work for me? Why the hell do I have to be still in this position?

Of course, there are no answers-at least, not as of yet. But I seriously doubt that there will be any. I mean, what will be said "Oh, well, it's just the luck of the draw......your eggs are great, sperm is great, uterine lining was wonderful, hormone levels were spot-on....". See, I don't need the follow-up appointment-I can just recite that and save the gas money. But I DO want answers-we only have one more shot at this, and then we have to throw in the towel (unless we hit the lottery, then its FREE CYCLES FOR EVERYONE!), so I want to make sure that they are doing everything possible to get me (and keep me) pregnant. And, it keeps coming back to what's inside my body-those tubes. I don't know what they look like, nor does any doctor. Should they do an exploratory lap to find out exactly what's going on? I don't know. Dr. Pipsqueak doesn't think so-she's afraid that it will create scar tissue. But if it's fucked up in there already, what more harm can it do? Not that I want surgery, mind you; but I am so afraid of doing another cycle and having it fail.

I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to cry, but there are no tears left-just bitterness.

Monday, February 19, 2007

It Didn't Work

That pretty much sums it up, right?

All 18 embryos are gone. That's it. We have to start from the beginning-a fresh cycle.

Doesn't it suck that crack 'ho's get to have slews of kids and I can't even manage to have one? Or that two of my work colleagues, who had been having an affair with each other for years, divorced their spouses and married each other a month ago are "suddenly" three and a half months pregnant? Boy, what have we been doing wrong?

The moral of the story: Crack 'ho's and adulterers are obviously more fit in the eyes of God to be parents than Sean and me. So, don't try to live a good life, be morally just, or do the right thing-because that will have you end up screwed.

Thanks, God. For nada.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

10dp3dt-The End is Near

And I don't mean that in a good way.

I started spotting this morning-brown, but still spotting. And cramping. The beginning of the end.

Yes, I know that technically it isn't the end, that I still could be pregnant; but, let's face it-I've never had a spotting episode that turned out positive in the end.

I'm not even going to bother calling the RE's office-the beta is tomorrow, so I'll just suck it up until then.

Plus, I think I'm getting a sinus infection, so not only will I get my period this week, but I'll end up on antibiotics too...........what a way to end the month.


So, the spotting has yet to hit the pantyliner that I've got on, and the only time I see the brown spotting is when I wipe, so who the hell knows. I still think that it didn't work, though. I guess we'll know by tomorrow afternoon, one way or the other.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

9dp3dt-Progesterone is Evil

Or, as Sean likes to call them, "The Little White Pills of Despair and Insanity"

I am a fat, bloated mess. I two lovely zits on my face that are the size and consistency of Mt. Etna. I also have a lovely spread of acne on my CHEST. Ugh, how gross. Let's not even go to the nasty place of swollen, sore titties; suffice it to say that I'm in the running to be the next Anna Nicole (minus the lack of intelligence, blonde hair-dye obvious addiction to SOMETHING and penchant for weird men). The constant cramping/aching feeling, especially on my right groin side-what joy. Oh, yeah-the constant peeing and sudden lack of self control when it comes to food doesn't make friends and influence people either.

All attributed to progesterone-that lovely steroid hormone that mimics every potential pregnancy symptom and plays havoc with our bodies and fucks with our minds. It's better than eating magic mushrooms...NOT.

(Not that I know anything about magic mushrooms.....nope......I have NO idea what that feels like....never tried 'em..)


You have all talked me down from the ledge, so thank you (especially Thalia, you walking medical dictionary, you....MWAH!!). I do realistically know that it's way too early to get a positive HPT-I mean, the one and only time I got a BFP on one of those nasty things I was around 12dp5dt, so around 17 dpo.....and the beta the next day was at 37, so......It really isn't reasonable to get anything on an HPT now, especially if FET betas tend to have lower numbers than fresh cycles. Still, it's hard not to pee on anything resembling a litmus test strip right now. And yes, I have been peeing still, and nothing yet. I know that it doesn't mean anything, but I need to be prepared, so I don't ruin my entire holiday weekend assuming I'm knocked up and then getting the emotional blow on Monday, just in time to go back to work the next day.

So, that's where I stand right now. I think that today I'm going to do a little retail therapy (although why, since I can't really fit into my clothes well, is beyond me), and tonight Sean and I are going out to dinner with friends. Then church tomorrow, and perhaps a movie.....

Then Monday-beta day.

Ergh...........this whole thing just sucks.

Thursday, February 15, 2007


Hi, my name is S, and I'm a pee-stickaholic.

I know........I KNOW. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help myself. It's like crack to us infertile girls. Those lovely pink and blue boxes on the shelf, calling your name. Then add in the sale price.........ARRGH!

I do realize that it's probably waaay too early to get anything to show up on an HPT, but I did it. And I'm going to test every damn day, up until Monday's beta. Because I'm just into the drama, I guess. Or, mostly because I want to be prepared, one way or the other.

Plus, I've been congested since yesterday morning, so I'm snorting and sniffling and otherwise feeling crappy, and if this really is negative then I want to make sure that I can start cold meds on Monday....

So, I've hidden the Evil Sticks of Despair in the hall closet from the lovely Sean, otherwise he would be bitching me out something fierce. I'll take another one tomorrow.

So, reassure IS too early, right? RIGHT??

Monday, February 12, 2007


Today I had to go back to work. Of course it wasn't the easiest of days, since Killer Kenny had to flip out during class and decide to crawl on tables and punch kids, but I managed to get through the day without too much stress. I refused to let it get to me.

Since we're in the middle of Black History Month, we had an assembly this morning by a group that performed African drum music and dance (actually, the members of the group were related to our Vice Principal-his sisters, brothers, mother and young nephews-and I mean was three and one was about 7), which the kids loved. As part of the assembly, they explained some geography about the continent, and stressed respect for elders, and the principles of African culture.

One of those concepts was about Aje (pronounced "Ah-zhay"). It was explained to the children as a manifestation of energy that people have, and when the word is spoken out loud, it's sending that energy, and your intention, forth to do your will, and that what you want will happen for you-that's how powerful the word is. It sent a bit of a shiver down my spine when he explained its meaning.

So, curious about this, I came home this afternoon and did a Google search on it. I didn't get a whole lot, surprisingly, but I did find this, so if you're interested, read away (or, if you know any more details about it, do share). What resonated to me about this article was the discussion that aje is a state of spiritual empowerment, is inherent in women, and represents life; more specifically, reproduction. Creating life.

It really resonated with me today, for some reason. It was if someone put a hand on my shoulder and just gave it a squeeze, to reassure me. To tell me that, perhaps I will make it through this after all. That my 5 years of barreness might soon be ending. That there is hope, as long as I believe and trust.

And I, along with 500 children, sent my energy forth to the winds to make my intentions known.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

3dp3dt-Yet Another Example of Spousal Insanity

Last night, as we were settling in to bed, I told Sean that he had to "speak to the babies" before he fell asleep, just to remind them that they should be happily growing and enjoying their time at Camp Uterine Party. He, of course, thought that I was insane, or that perhaps it was an uncommon side effect of oral progesterone. But, after insisting that I wasn't hallucinating, he cupped his hands to his mouth, leaned over to my stomach, and said:

"HEY, yeah you in'd better be doing your thing. And you BETTER be two girls, because I want to be the only dick in this house..................GOT IT? I wanna be SURROUNDED BY PUSSY. Because it'll be the ONLY chance in my life that will ever happen. So, get on with it!"

Now, if that doesn't make them implant, I don't know what will.

And, yes......this really happened. I can't make this shit up-I'm just not that imaginative.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

2dp3dt-Groundhog Day

Did'ja ever see the movie "Groundhog Day", when Bill Murray relives the same day over and over? I kind of feel that way right now.

Sore, angry boobies? Check.

Can't seem to stay awake past 10pm? Check.

Sudden urges to rip Sean's penis off? Check.

Feeling like a fat, bloated pig? Check.

The lovely oil slick that has suddenly appeared on my skin? Check.

Yeah, it's the same old story, different cycle. However, I feel more hopeful this time around. It's probably because that this is the last of the bunch, but still............I'm starting to let that auld girl Hope in for a stay.

Thanks for the suggestions, btw-I think that tomorrow afternoon I'm going to make a run to my local bookstore and stock up on some trashy books. I've been tempted to re-read Anne Rice's The Witching Hour, but I'm still on the fence with that. And, I'm going to indulge myself with a Moose Munch Bar that's been sitting in my purse since Wednesday (I KNOW-the willpower!). I've also found a somewhat trashy series on Sundance to watch: Ladettes to Ladies. A bunch of British twenty-something "free spirits" (aka wild 'ho's) who engage in a Survivor-type contest by going to a chi-chi finishing school in order to see who can get "cultured" the quickest. The first episode featured them going to a dinner party with eligible public school types, getting drunk and screwing around with the boys. Just up my alley.

Now, if it could only fill the next 8 days or so, I'll be happy.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

The Last Great Hope

Transfer went well. We put back two, a three cell and a seven cell. They thawed all six to get those two, so that's it-the last of the bunch. If this doesn't work out, then it's back to the drawing board.

However..........they do look good, these two embryos. Sean has named them this time, Nate and Kate the Great. The RE said that the seven-cell is the best, but even the three cell is good-no fragmentation, all round, even-sized cells. So, that's that-all we can do is wait.

Now, all you out there in Bloglandia, you have a mission. Distract me until February 19th, which is scheduled to be beta day. Anything. Except weird porn. That's just not a good time.

Although, I do have some hope dwelling inside. Murphy's Law being what it is, I have a strange feeling about this transfer.......particularly that 3-celled one. I mean, we had a morula that didn't take, so you know that the least looking one of the whole batch has to be the one that takes. That, and I got my gym membership card in the mail this week. And the fact that I bought a few pair of new pants. And let's not forget the new bras that I bought.

Just hedging my bets, really. But, really.......let the uterine party get started!

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

God's Payback

I think that, perhaps, I've been given a sign that all is not lost. That maybe, just maybe God is smiling down on us and giving me hope.

It's karma in it's finest form.........or, at least it's God giving me a wink and saying "Hey, I got your back, babe".

Here then, is last night's conversation after Sean walked in the door:

Me: "Hey babe, how was your day?"

Him: "Not so, was I gassy today!"

Me (slightly nauseated and getting olfactory flashbacks): "Greeaaaaaaaaat"

Him: "Yeah, and then.........GUESS WHAT? Guess what happened next?"

Me: "Uh, did you set off the fire alarm?"

Him: "No......."

Me: "Did you asphyxiate someone and they needed to be sent to the emergency room?"

Him: "Nope, it's better than that......."

Me: "How can it get better than attempted murder?"

Him: "No, seriously............I farted and I slightly shit my pants!"

Me (gagging): "Whaa.........dude, how the fuck can you SLIGHTLY shit your pants??"

Him: " wasn't a log or was just a skid in my underpants......."

Me: .....................

Him: "Okay, you can stop laughing now. It's really not THAT funny."

Me: "Dude, it's God's payback for releasing the Kracken. I LOVE it!!"

Him: "Do you think it's good luck for us? Kind of like having a bird shit on you when you're walking or stepping in dog crap on the sidewalk or something?"

Me: "Well, if you think I'm rubbing your underpants on my head, you're insane"

Him: "It can't hurt, you know...."

Me: "You are SO doing the laundry this week....."

The moral of this story, kids? She who gets farted on gets the last laugh. And a free pass on doing the laundry for the rest of the week. WOOT!


Transfer is set for tomorrow-we have to be there at 12:30, and then the embryos will start the uterine party about an hour later. The final amount we transfer will depend on what they look like, and we won't know that until we get there. I'm still leaning towards two, but it's anyone's guess.

I'll be back to update tomorrow, once I'm home and burrowed safely on the couch.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Last, and Yet Least

I've been trying to post for the last few days-I kept starting a post, then canceling it. I do have so much that's been on my mind lately, but I can't seem to put it into words, which is odd for me.

I've been thinking a lot about being the last of my friends (who want kids) who are still trying to conceive, when people all have one (or two). A perfect example is my Futility Friend group that I started this journey on. They have all made it over to the Land of Mommyhood (Ilyse being the most recent one); but it's not to say that it happened easily for them. But, they all got their happy ending.

And it made me the last one left. The only one without a baby. And, in some ways it drove a little bit of a wedge between us, because there are certain things that I obviously can't participate with them. I haven't been through late-night feedings, teething, knowing which diaper is the best, how to potty train. But, that's not to say that I feel any differently about them-they are wonderful women and have always been there for me, no matter what. They've been there more than some of my IRL friends. And, I can write this with no worry that they will be upset or offended by what I say, because they've been there and they understand what I'm saying, even if the words I use might seem petty and jealous and childish.

So, I freely admit it here-I hate being the last one. It's like when you were in grammar school and you're chosen last out of the class for the kickball team-even the kid that has coke-bottle glasses and a limp gets picked before you. And you feel like a loser, as if there's a taint on you that everyone can see. I hate hate HATE being last.

But, here I am, the last in line. Last and yet least. Because being the only one without a child when everyone else has their babies makes you feel even more inadequate. It's bad enough that infertility has invaded my life, but at one time I had hope that it wouldn't take long-I was young, relatively healthy (even with my crappy tubes), didn't smoke or do drugs. Now, almost five years later, I feel so much more jaded about it. I'm not even sure that this will even work for me at all. It hasn't yet. And, even though the doctors seem positve, they're not absolutely sure. Nothing is 100% guaranteed. Some days I'm okay with it, and other days I'm an one emotion away from a nervous breakdown. I feel cheated a lot of the time, like I'm missing out on so much. Yet, there are some times that I'm okay with it, as if perhaps, if this didn't work out, I'd survive childless.

So, why the philosophical meanderings? Well, we've received a "go" on the FET. I started my antibiotics, Medrol and oral Progesterone this morning. I have a lining check on Wednesday, and we're going in on Thursday afternoon, time to be determined. We've got those 6 totsicles left to use, and hopefully they won't have to go through them all to get something good to transfer.

I'm feeling the pressure more with this cycle. This is it-the last of the 18 we got last June. If they go through all of the embryos, we've only got one more shot at a fresh cycle before the insurance craps out on us. And, I'm not sure if I even want to do another fresh cycle. I haven't thought that far ahead yet.

I know that I should be grateful that we even got that many embryos to begin with, since there are many people out there who get only a few (or even none that are viable). But hey, this is my pity party and I'll cry if I want to-I damn well deserve it. I just don't want to have to go through this all over again-the shots, the daily monitoring, the retrieval, transfer and waiting. It sucks, and let's face it-I'm getting older, and you know what they say about fertility declining with age. 35 is looming for me-that cut-off age when I won't be a "young" patient anymore, at least, as far as the medical establishment is concerned.

Seriously, though, I am just getting so weary of all of this babymaking crap. I hate that infertility is always in the back of mind, invading my thoughts and preying on my hopes and fears and anxiety. I can't remember what my life was like before it. Was I a happy-go-lucky type of person? What happened to that person? And, do I like who I am now?

I'm trying to stay "positive"; or, at least, I'm trying to stay neutral so as to not poison myself emotionally with this FET. But, it's getting harder to do with each failed cycle. And, it just sucks, all around.

I'll update with a FET time when Nurse Blondie calls me tomorrow.

Let the fun begin.