Infertility SUCKS!

Housekeeping

2011-09-06T22:08:00.005-04:00

Hey there. Yes, you.

Hi.

I'm still plugging along. There's been a lot going on here, so let's give you the run-down:

1. Mom had to do another round of IV chemo (the Femara didn't work), which was a bit of a blow and interfered with her stroke recovery. The only real side effect was that she got extremely dizzy, which made it hard for her to walk. Even though the chemo did shrink the residual cancer that was left in her body, they want to continue it, probably since she's way too high of a risk to have surgery. She's getting her feisty back, though, minus the brashness she once had. It's like mom....light. But she's starting to bust my dad's balls, which is hilarious to see-it's like a ghost of the dynamic that was once in our family, pre-cancer, but a lot softer. I like it and it freaks me out at the same time, to be honest-it's good that there's no more blunt criticisms to constantly deflect but in some ways I feel like she's a completely different person and it's hard to reconcile the "old cynical, defensive, controlling mom" with the "new softer, more emotional mom". Which I guess she is-I'm just having issues with how to deal with it all.

2. I found out in May that my school district wasn't renewing my contract, and therefore I was out of a job. Since I was a few months before being tenured, you might say that reaaalllly sucked ass. Not to mention that the principal tried to use the fact that I had to quit an extracurricular activity that I was scheduled to do because of my winter IVF cycle being pushed back as a reason to let me go. Needless to say, Bitch Mode kicked in and I went to the union rep, informed him (and the county rep) that it was ILLEGAL to put that in a performance review since IF is covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act and that if it wasn't removed immediately I would sue the pants off of them. Not that it got me my job back, but they wasted no time in removing it. It's sad-when I got that job I really loved it, until the whole budget/job cutting mess started. Then we got a new superintendent and.....well, let's just say that he was a real douchebag. Add to the fact that my principal isn't yet tenured and.....it's a mess. And to add insult to injury, my job was advertised THE NEXT DAY in the state newspaper, so this was planned all along. So, I was sending out resumes like a wild woman, got two interviews (one was the district I left to go to the new school) and never got offered a position. After trolling the board minutes to the schools that I applied to, they hired all first-year teachers, so obviously someone like with me who is experienced is screwed. So, what am I doing, you ask? Why, I'm a statistic, of course-on unemployment and hoping that I can find a job for January, otherwise I'll have to start all over again in the spring, and compete with more recent grads and people who've been out of work. Yaaaaay!

3. My Handsome Nephew is....well, he's just SO DAMN HANDSOME!!! He's almost 16 months old now and it's amazing at what a little person he's become. He loves water, has a great smile, likes to be chased and is really into pulling things out of drawers. My brother and SIL were here a month ago and he was just adorable. I'll be visiting them soon so I can get my fix!

4. Had a bit of a shock when I found out from my best friend M that she found a lump on her breast-literally a few days after her annual exam (the lump wasn't there then). So, she went back to the doctor, who sent her for a mammogram (which she hadn't had in a few years), which showed something, so she went to a breast surgeon who did a biopsy, which came up malignant. She had the lumpectomy last week, which confirmed that she had breast cancer, stage 1B. Luckily, it seemed to be small, it was contained so they got it all out, but due to some of the markers coming back she has to do chemo and radiation. Oddly enough, her doc is out of the same hospital that my mom went to (and I go to for Dr. Pipsqueak), so I immediately recommended my mom's oncologist, and she's got an appointment this week. Did I mention that she's 39 and has a 10 year old daughter? And that she's been my friend forever (we joke that we've known each other "since fetus" since our mom's knew one another when pregnant). Yeah. Scary as all fuck. But the good thing is that it was caught early-she had the lumpectomy maybe about two or three weeks after she found the lump initially-and her prognosis is excellent. So remember girls......get your boobies smashed-it doesn't matter if you're young, it can still happen. And there's my PSA for the evening.

5. SkinnyGirl Sangria-wow, there's nothing more I can say about that. Probably because then I'd have to stop drinking it long enough to form a sentence. Yum! Perfect for sitting around the fire pit in the back yard!

6. I guess it's time to update the blog-out with the old, in with the new. Since Blogger has moved with the times and I'm still stuck in the dinosaur age, programically speaking (is that even a WORD? Jeez..), I suppose it's time to update my roll, my template, maybe add a twitter account...who knows what will happen. I'm gonna go crazy like one of those wacky guidettes at the Jersey Shore on a summer weekend! Woot! Fist pump!!

7. Oh, yeah......I'm meeting with Dr. Pipsqueak tomorrow. For a consult. To start a DE cycle. Crazy, ain't it? Sean and I had a long talk about it, and although we were going back and forth on whether or not we should go forward, we were really waiting to see if I'd get my job back full-time. When it was obvious that it wasn't happening, we were about to shelve it completely, since we'd be basically self-pay (our insurance would only cover our portion of the cycle, not anything related to a donor). Then my dad sat us down one day at my parent's house and said that he had a long talk with my mom, grandmother and brother, and they felt that maybe losing my job was meant to happen, since it can potentially give me the opportunity to really focus on starting a family-up until now everything revolved around my job, singing gigs, shows and we really didn't make cycling a priority. We tried to fit it into our lives instead of making it what was most important. And then he handed us a check, for the amount of money that we needed for the cycle. He told us that it was a gift from my grandmother, that one day it would've come to us eventually, but my grandmother wanted to see us try our best to get what we most wanted, and then have the whole family enjoy the potential outcome, before she's gone.

Wow. I never thought the Man Upstairs would have me lose my job to clear the way to a baby, but hey.....I'm just going to go with it-maybe there's something to this. I will get on the ride again and see where it takes me, because I won't ever know what could happen if I don't try, right?

Now, please remind me of what I just wrote when I'm hopped up on hormones and having panic attacks and in IVF hell, donor-egg style. Because I'm going to need all the positive thoughts I can get.

Aftermath

2011-02-15T16:20:00.001-05:00

Well, here I am.....again. God, this is getting monotonous, isn't it?

Now that I've gone through the bloodbath that is a post-IVF cycle AF, I've had a little time to process this hot mess, also known as "my reproductive years", and it's a bitter pill to swallow.

All these years of trying, failing, trying again, then failing some more, were not due to my shitty tubes, but more than likely a combo punch of shitty tubes AND shitty (or, as I like to call them, "scrambled") eggs. The hard truth that nothing, NOTHING we did in these last 8 or so years would've mattered, because the likelihood of this working were almost zilch.

Yeah, it's good that we now know what we're dealing with, but I really wish we could've had this news a little earlier than now. Maybe it would've been harder to deal with if we knew this a few years ago, I don't know. I just feel like we wasted so much damn time when there was really no viable chance traditional IVF would have worked for us. I just feel so frustrated about that.

Then, we get into the whole "third-party reproduction" aspect of this. I stand by my earlier post-I'm not opposed to doing DE-IVF. Seriously, if you met some of the members of my family, you'd see that genetics aren't all they're cracked up to be. Sean's big thing that he needs to overcome is that he won't see "me" in a baby, should we do this. He's always had that dream of being able to pick out my genetic traits in our children, but who's to say that would even happen, even if we were able to have kids with my eggs? I'm a walking recessive gene to begin with (lighter hair and blue eyes as opposed to my dark haired/skinned/eyed Italian family), so I know that it's no guarantee. But, now that the dust has settled a little, he's really not opposed to doing it either. He feels a little weird that it's only his genetic makeup that would determine biological parentage, but I pointed out that if we did a traditional adoption it wouldn't look like either one of us.

That's the other thing that has been running around the old homestead lately-how our families would react to this. Surprisingly, my parents are really cool about it (despite no genetic relation to a grandchild should this work). They told us that if this is what we want, we should go for it. Honestly, it's nobody's damn business, except for us and the doctor (and a pediatrician). If we adopted nobody would even question it. Maybe it's a little non-traditional, but hey, so was IVF 30 years ago. I mean, I wouldn't broadcast it to the world, but the people who would need to know would. It's that simple.

Now, on to the shitty news-DE-IVF isn't covered under Sean's plan-his company has self-funded insurance, which means that they are not subject to any mandated coverage in any of the states that they are located (one of which is in IL, which apparently has a good mandate). MY costs would be covered, but not the donor's. Which comes to a price tag of almost $20,000, including the donor and clinic fees. Yeah, not the news we'd been hoping for. Ironically enough, had I not lost my full-time status I WOULD HAVE been covered, under NJ's Family Building Act. Another reason to loathe the way education is now being handled here, but there is a SMALL chance that I might get my job back full-time in the fall, so we might be able to hang on for a bit. It just feels like yet another setback for us, just when we've decided on a new path. And, unfortunately, taking out a loan isn't an option for us right now, what with me not working full-time, we'd probably not qualify. I just feel that sometimes the universe is shitting all over us. Is somebody trying to give us the cosmic hint?

It just really is disheartening-who knew that having a baby would be one the hardest things we'd have to do?

BFN Times....Oh Shit, I've Lost Count.....

2011-02-04T17:34:00.002-05:00

Dr Pipsqueak called herself with the news (she told me that Nurse Blondie was so upset that she couldn't give me the results) that it's yet another BFN. She was also really upset on the phone but talked to me for about 20 minutes about the PGD results and different options we now have.

Recommendation? Donor egg or adoption. Yep, the likelihood of using my own eggs to get a baby are kind of like a blizzard in Hawaii. Not happening. I mean, she said that the only way that they'd do a cycle again with my eggs is with PGD, but really....what's the point? I'm not going to suddenly get tons of normal embryos-in fact, what if I ended up with the same stats, or worse, nothing to transfer at all? She thinks that, despite my original diagnosis of tubal factor and overstimming, I should have been pregnant and had babies by now, and this might have really been the problem all along-since I started cycling almost 8 years ago, my eggs were shitty all along. Go figure....I apparently never had a fighting chance, or, as she said: "We've been beating our heads against a brick wall wondering why it didn't work, and now it makes sense". Lovely.

Lots of decisions to make, but they're sending me a donor recipient packet (aren't I lucky that my RE is head of the ovum donor program!) for me to see what it's all about. My clinic apparently has a 60% "take-home baby rate" and 40% of recipients have extra embryos to freeze. Maybe the odds might finally be in my favor?

Hell, my genetic makeup isn't all it's cracked up to be-look at my bipolar crazy aunt and the cancer history in my family. Yes, it SUCKS to think, if we do this, that I won't be able to look into my baby's face and see my family traits there. But really, I just want a child. I don't care if it has my ears, my mother's nose and my dad's hairline.

I'm tired and I'm not getting younger and it's time. I want a baby. If this is the way to get one, then so be it.

9dp4dt-Not Promising

2011-02-03T07:35:00.001-05:00

HPT is still negative, as of this morning. The likelihood of this situation ending well sure as hell ain't looking too good, given my track record.

That, and the slight brown stain on the TP I also saw this morning. And the cramps I've been having-just like when AF is coming.

I'll give more of an update tomorrow, once they confirm it.

*sigh*

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

8dp4dt-Obi-wan Lone Embryo

2011-02-02T06:04:00.004-05:00

Everything, so far, is okay. I'm trying not to be obsessive, hence the absence of my usual post-transfer dpo Symptom-Watch. Nothing too unusual to report that can't be attributed to the progesterone, except for two things-I've had a wicked headache for two days now (but it's been shitty rainy/snowy here, so it could just be the barometic pressure) that seems to go away when I take a nap, and I've also had this sour/metallic taste in my mouth. It's a bit like licking the inside of a tin can, and nothing I eat really makes it go away, and it's making me salivate like a rabid dog and feel queasy all at the same time. Just lovely, right?

I did cave and POAS'd Tuesday and this morning, and so far, BFN. I'm trying to tell myself that I might not have enough HCG at this point to show on an HPT because we only transferred one, but I might also be deluding myself. It's a crapshoot at this point.

Beta on Friday AM. Thanks for the good thoughts and prayers-definitely keep them coming.

Help me, Obi-Wan Lone Embryo....you're our last hope.

And Then There Were...

2011-01-25T17:29:00.001-05:00

One. Out of 14 embryos, 10 were able to be biopsied. Out of 10, only one was determined to be genetically normal. One. The other nine had what I was told was "multiple chromosomal anomalies". In plain old English that means they were shitty. 'Nuff said.

So, they transferred the Lone Embryo (which they feel is a great one that is changing into a blast) and now all we do is wait.

I am really upset about the whole situation-I mean one? Really? Even the doctors were surprised by that-at my age there should be two or even three viable ones. I guess you can look at it from the perspective that we at least now know why we've had so many IVF failures. But it doesn't make me feel any better knowing that not only do I have crappy tubes, I have apparently crappy eggs as well. We never stood a fighting chance, it seems.

So, Lone Embryo, you are the last chance for us. It's obvious that they won't let us cycle again with my own eggs, so you could very well be the end of our reproductive road. So, please.....try to fight. You're proven to be healthy. You will be loved and cherished, should you become a real live baby. Now it's up to you.

No pressure, but we already expect a hell of a lot from you, and you haven't even been born yet. Just imagine what high school's going to be like.

Please try, anyway.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Back From Folli-Land

2011-01-23T22:07:00.004-05:00

Yaaay! I'm alive!

We got the call over the weekend from the monitoring nurse (not Nurse Blondie, whoever was on call this weekend) that, at least as of yesterday, there are still 14 embryos plugging along to Omeletville, which is great news. We got instructions for our transfer (Tuesday at 1:30, bring water, make sure there's no jewelry, deodorant, blah blah blah) and were told that no news was good news. There's a chance that the transfer could be pushed to Wednesday afternoon (in which case we'd get a call Tuesday morning), depending on when they receive the CGH results, but they've apparently been pretty quick about getting those results back-I guess that's one of the perks of having a major genetics company within 10 minutes of BIC. Woot!

I've been reading up on CGH (which stands for comparative genome hybridization) and it seems like it's a good fit for us. There's two types of CGH-the Array CGH and just CGH analysis -I believe that they're doing the Array testing, since they're doing the biopsy on day 3 and we'll get the results back within 24 hours-the other testing actually requires biopsy on day 5 and either transfer day 6 or freezing the blasts for a FET. CGH testing actually looks at all the chromosomes, not just 12, which standard PGD does. It has up to a 60% success rate and only a 5% miscarriage rate, which is perfect for us. Of course there's drawbacks, like in any procedure, but it seems to be a good fit for us, which is why Dr. Pipsqueak recommended it in our case.

She rocks. Just sayin'.

Of course, there is the chance that we might have nothing to transfer, or have embryos that are chromosomally viable that aren't the best quality, but I'm having a really good feeling about this. We're actually not anxious at all about what's going to, or not going to happen-it's as if we've kind of passed it along and realized that there's no sense worrying about things that we can't control right now. Neither of us can afford to be stressed out right now; plus, it won't change the outcome. It's really interesting that we're not worried or obsessive about the testing or results, but I'm going to go with it and not read into anything too much.

I'm feeling better, finally-my left side is more tender than the right, but the nurse told me that they aspirated more follicles on that side. I'm hydrating like a madwoman, just in case that old whore OHSS comes along, but I feel pretty good, once I slept off the anesthesia and could finally....well.....got to drop the "kids" off at the pool, if you get my drift. That's the one things about the anesthesia and progesterone combo that I don't like-the Doody Highway gets a traffic jam, and you feel bloated and crampy to begin with. Yuck. So I was a happy camper when that resolved itself.

I totally can't believe that I've sunk to a new low by talking about crapping here. Ye-gads, what's next-tampon comparisons? Fiber supplements? Sheesh...

Cross your fingers for us, if you can-hopefully I'll have more news soon!

Omelets Abound.

2011-01-21T15:13:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the short post, but here's the lowdown:

14 eggs. All mature and fertilized via ICSI

Got a call this afternoon from Dr. Pipsqueak that since all were mature, they want to do CGH instead of PGD, to check all the chromosomes. Yeah, it costs more, but they think that, should all 14 continue to develop, it will be beneficial. If they don't continue to mature, they're going to do straight PGD. So, we're going for it. We've made it this far, right?

Now I feel like doody, so I'm going back to bed. Catch ya on the flip-side.

Follicle Omelet With A Side of Home-Fries

2011-01-19T15:34:00.006-05:00

Just got the call-the huevos are cooked enough to crack open those bad-boys and make an omelet. Trigger tonight, then retrieval Friday morning. Just in time for yet ANOTHER snowstorm. Driving up the Garden State Parkway is going to be such a nightmare that I'm already looking forward to the drugs for ER. And the drugs after ER. Hell, maybe I should take some now, just for shits and giggles.

The count, as of this morning, was 24 good-sized follicles, so hopefully that will get more than 12 eggs. The more I get, the more for PGD, and the more normal ones we'll end up with. Or, at least, that's the theory-we all know that IVF has odds much like the roulette table at The Borgata.

Minus the hookers, of course. Because hookers in an IVF lab is just awkward, not to mention it might be a little hard to explain to said theoretical children why there's a creepy lady in hoochie clothes giving the camera a thumbs-up in the procedure room (take THAT as a visual, people!). Yeah, that's where my mind goes to in all this-creepy hookers. I'm so fucked-up.

Let the fun begin!

Keeping the "Z" in Zen

2011-01-17T15:34:00.004-05:00

I've been going to BIC every day now, since Thursday morning, which is great in the way that I feel like they're watching me closely to make sure that I get enough follicles to trigger, but not so good due to the fact that I have to go EVERY DAY for bloodwork and a dildocam. Which doesn't get more comfortable as the days go on.

When I mentioned this to the monitoring doc, she pointed out that, even though it's a pain, at least it's not the opposite issue, that I don't make enough. She's got a point-there's no sense bitching about it when there's plenty of people who would actually want to be in my situation.

It takes someone pointing out the obvious to you to put things in perspective.

So.....here's where we're at. I'll probably trigger Tuesday or Wednesday with ER being on Thursday or Friday, depending on what they see tomorrow. There's about 20 good-sized follicles chugging away in there, but they want the right side to catch up to the left, so we get the optimal amount. They seem to be really excited with how the stims are going-I'm only on 75 IU/day, which is NOTHING compared to the typical dosage is-and my estradiol is climbing nice and steadily, which is nice to know. I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable and I'm exhausted, so I'm just about ready for this part to be over.

It's weird, because even though you're injecting yourself with 2 needles a day for a few weeks, and you get headaches and bloated, tired and hormonal, I feel like this is the easiest part of the cycle. Everything is timed out and choreographed perfectly-you get into a sick sort of routine with the injections. It's the second half that's the bitch, because of the progesterone and the waiting to see if it worked (and then waiting to see if anything is viable, at least in my case). The Two Week Wait while taking Progesterone is not unlike standing on the edge of a high-dive at the community pool-you know, logically, that once you take the plunge there's no way that anything bad will really happen to you, but your body gets into that "fight or flight" mode and you're frozen with fear and can't take that first step into the unknown. Not to mention that you're probably naked up there and have to pee and you've got twenty kids screaming at you from the bottom to JUST HURRY THE HELL UP ALREADY. The 2WW, to me, is like a free-fall of anxiety and obsessiveness that, at least this time around, I cannot feed into, for my own sanity's sake...well, and Sean's too-he still hasn't patched up the hole I punched in the wall going up the stairs from the last cycle (stupid Progeste-rage). The only problem is, how do I put that into practice?

That's what I need to find out-to practice what I preach. I feel like I can't afford to let any anger, panic or anxiety in during this upcoming 2WW, like it's potentially poisonous to the outcome. I know realistically that it's not going to affect whether or not I get pregnant, but it seems like EVERY DAMN cycle I have something happen in that two week time period that causes me to lose control completely. Sean's not really a help in this, unfortunately-he has anxiety issues of his own that manifests itself, so me getting my Progeste-freak on just escalates into a group meltdown at our house, ending up with me breaking something and crying hysterically.

So, any suggestions? I'd be interested in anyone's thoughts or what they did to make the wait easier.

Uh oh.....

2011-01-10T18:21:00.005-05:00

Okay, so either (a). I'm starting to noticeably bloat from the Folli-STING, (b). I had on the wrong outfit (leggings, boots and a tunic dress) or else (c). I've been in a bit of denial with gaining some poundage around my middle, but I was, for the first time EVER, asked the following question today by a substitute nurse...

"Soooooo, when are you due?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Of course, me being the snarky bitch that I am (and also suffering from that "insert-foot-in-mouth" disease), after just staring at her for a second (and mumbling,"what was that?"), shot back with "No, I'm not pregnant, just fat". And watched her get all uncomfortable, red-faced and embarrassed (with me trying to stifle a giggle just from the look on this woman's face), awkwardly backpedal and repeatedly apologize to me. I did try to be nice, though, and said, "Don't worry, I've been asked that before" (lie!) and "It's not a big deal" (bullshit) as she slunk out of my classroom back to the office across the hall.

But, it did bother me, a little. What the fuck? I would never, NEVER ask anyone that! Okay, maybe going through everything that I have I might be a little hypersensitive to that, but, I mean.......REALLY!?!?

And yet, another voice inside my head whispered "From your mouth to God's ears".

So, is it a horrible faux-pas that can be laughed off, or is it a sign? Who knows.

By the way, yesterday's check showed 11 follicles on the left and 12 on the right, percolating away at less than 10mm. Next check tomorrow.

So far, so good.

Yaaaaaaaay PHLEGM!!!

2011-01-04T16:07:00.005-05:00

Okay, so....because the gods just LOOOVE to fuck with me, I ended up getting sick on New Year's Day. And, trust me, "sick" isn't a slick codeword for "Jaysus I drank too much and flashed my bra and hurled on the side of someone's car before passing out on the bed before removing my pantyhose".

That was New Year's 2003. At least, I think it was.

Seriously, though-we went out with some friends to see a show and had a yummy dinner in a nice restaurant, where I graced the audience of the small bathroom of this top-rated restaurant a showing of my ample belly whilst shooting up Lupron-the old ladies were aghast! There's a heroin freak in the ladies room! Oh, wait.....aren't junkies SKINNY??? Thaaat's right.....

Anyway, so the entire evening I had a little tickle in my throat-you know the kind, that makes you cough or constantly clear your throat like you've got a pube stuck in it (c'mon....you know you were thinking that!! Oh, you weren't? Um......). I decided to dose myself with a little Nyquil when we got home, and then the next morning woke up to pretty much sounding (and looking) like Kathleen Turner...and I mean the Kathleen Turner NOW, not the sexy as hell Kathleen Turner from 20 years ago. So it's not like I'm congested, but there's sinus pressure and obviously some kind of post nasal thing that's making me lose my voice, RIGHT IN TIME TO GO BACK TO WORK. Did I mention that I'm a teacher? A MUSIC teacher? And I can't take sick time because of the upcoming cycle? Um......yeah.

Oddly enough, the kids have really taken pity on me, which is surprising, since middle school- aged kids don't have pity for anyone unless it involves the red ring of death showing up on their XBOX 360 during a crucial moment in "Call of Duty". I'm totally taking advantage of their short-lived sympathy, though, because it's not going to last...

Where was I? Oh, yeah-snot. Or lack of it.

So it's obvious that I have a sinus thing. And since I'm on meds, I apparently have to be careful as to what I can take when cycling (Only Sudafed, which is a lot like showering with a garden hose-it's just not doing the trick). Well, someone clued me into the Wonderful World of the Neti Pot. It looks like a teapot, but don't be deceived.......it's a nose douche. So, I bought one of these things and I now look like a complete horse's ass in the bathroom in the morning jamming the spout of this thing up my nostril and trying not to gag as I prevent the saline solution from running down the back of my throat.

I'm sure Sean is JUST LOVING that, 10 years into marriage, he's got a glimpse of what I'll be like in about 20 years-chubby, snarfing and gagging while douching my nasal passages. Here's to another 20, baby! MWWWAH!

Hopefully this will do the trick, because I don't want to go on yet another medication (plus, if I can hold on, hopefully the Doryx right before the retrieval might do the trick!). If I still feel like shit on Thursday when I go for my dildocam to see if I can start stims, maybe I'll ask for something then.

Oooh, IVF cycles in the winter are SO MUCH FUN! Why didn't I do this more often?

Now, excuse me while I go hock up some lungs.

Eating Lightning and Crapping Thunder

2011-01-02T17:26:00.003-05:00

Well, Happy New Year, everyone. I don't know about you, but I was certainly glad to kick 2010 to the curb, that dirty slut. Although it wasn't quite as bad as The Shit Year That Was 2009, it wasn't the days of wine and roses, either. I guess you can say that it was a year of transition.

Mom's doing really really well with her recovery. She's using a walker and zipping around fairly well-getting herself in and out of a chair, going to the bathroom and such, and is also using a single-prong cane in therapy and practicing movement in the house. The cane makes her a bit more nervous than using the walker, but she's also using a treadmill at therapy, so they're pretty confident that she might not need anything by the summer. Her progress is truly amazing. The only snag is that her CA-125 has been slowly creeping up for the past few months. She's not ready yet for more chemo, so the oncologist put her on Femara to try to lower it. So, this is that awful limbo-waiting period that we need to go through to see what the deal is. Dad isn't good with this stuff, so it's been a struggle to keep him afloat, be the cheerleader for mom and try to manage my own mess of a life. Yeah, what else is new, right?

My brother and SIL (yeah, we starting talking again-that's a post for another day, though) moved to The Sunny Land in the South in September with My Handsome Nephew (hereby known to all here as MHN), which my parents didn't take well AT ALL, but......there wasn't much they could do about it. They did come for Christmas, so that was exciting to have them all here. MHN is absolutely adorable and sweet-natured (yeah, I know everyone says that, but he really is) and obviously has his mother's sweet temperament, which is a relief, considering that my brother can be a horse's ass sometimes.

Work is......work, which I hate to say, because I really like my job, apart from the part-time status. I'm still doing as much work as I did last year, sans half my salary and no insurance. I really think, despite reassurances from colleagues that "things will only be like this for this school year", that they won't bring me back to full-time-I mean, why should they, if they can get me to work just as much and not pay me? Which means that I'll have to look for another job, which BLOWS for teachers right now in NJ. Luckily we have Sean's health insurance, but for all the grandstanding from his employer that they get 100% employer-paid benefits, they really are shitty with the coverages and out-of-pocket expenses. But, it's better than nothing, so for that I must be thankful. We're actually considering moving out of state (perhaps to The Sunny Land of the South?) to get away from the hot mess that is the Garden State right now-I know that it's not better in a lot of places, but for the amount of taxes I'm being raped for here, I'd rather have less of a shellacking somewhere else. Plus, Sean HATES his job-he's never going to move forward in the company, and he's feeling stagnated, which just gets his anxiety and frustration going. Not a good combination, trust me.

Oh, yeah, and about that infertile thing. Well......I'm still infertile. But Dr. Pipsqueak convinced us to do one last college try, with the addition to that trusty little sidekick of PGD. Since it's not covered by insurance, we had to beg, borrow and steal (well, not STEAL, but beg and borrow is more like it) the $5K that insurance won't cover in order to start the cycle. I started Lupron on December 31st-Happy Frickin' New Year! I got to shoot up in a restaurant that was listed in Zagat's as "the fourth most-popular in New Jersey"-that's a first for me. The food was SLAMMIN', though......

So, we'll see about how this develops. Hopefully this will work, and we're done. Or, this won't work, and we'll know that my eggs are shit, and then we'll proceed from there. But, the past year and a half has taught me something important. I'm a strong person. I still have fight left in me, and I won't know if this will work or not if I don't at least try. So, I'll try it.

Now, pass me the Tylenol and a tank top, bitches.....I feel a headache and hot flashes coming on! Yaaaaay LUPRON!!

We Now Take You To Our Previously Scheduled Programming, Already In Progress…

2010-04-01T18:49:00.005-04:00

Hey there.

Remember me?

I know that it's been a fair bit of time (and who knows if you all are even out there anymore), and it's been a hiatus here, but hey, hanging on by your fingernails while you're playing the game of Life can tend to be a bit exhausting. I'm sure that you can understand.

I'll post in more detail later on the following, but here's a very brief synopsis of the last (almost) six months:

Mom had a rough road with a few major setbacks, but is home, talking, kicking ass with her therapies and will hopefully, soon, be able to stand. We've been going there about every other weekend or so, and we can see the improvements (like last weekend, when she used a fork for the first time by herself). It's amazing how, when watching someone "relearn" the most basic of functions, we take those things for granted.

My brother and his wife are are due in May. A boy. Which, in an Italian family, is the equivalent of standing on your head and farting gold bars. Needless to say, we haven't really been talking much. The shower is later this month and I'm not involved (wasn't asked, I just got an invitation like everyone else), and not sure if I even want to go.

My job kept me somewhat sane, and VERY busy, until about two weeks ago, when the governor decided to release a Sopranos-style vendetta on the teacher's union (who refused to endorse him...wonder why?). He's decided, since the NJ is in such financial crisis, to withhold state aid equal to 5% of every school district's operating budget. Which, in most suburban districts, is ALL of the state aid. Which means budget cuts......and the cutting of my position down to part-time. No benefits, and half my salary cut. Lovely.

Sean's okay. We have our moments when we want to rip each others eyes out with a spork, but we're here.

Oh, yeah....I'm still infertile. Haven't met with Dr. Pipsqueak in awhile (although she called back in January to see how we were doing), but BIC recommends another go at IVF, this time using PGD. They feel as if it's the missing puzzle piece. But, with my job what it is.....we're not sure handing over five grand right now is a "wise investment choice".

There are days that I'm okay, and days that I'm really not (those are the days that I just want to get in my car and drive until I can't anymore). Mostly, I'm just numb, and trying to make it through the day without losing my marbles altogether. One more day closer to my clock shutting down completely, and maybe then the constant feeling of being miserable will start to fade away.

So, I'm back.....I think. How have YOU been?

Growing Up

2009-10-22T10:20:00.003-04:00

And the suck-fest continues, folks.

We got a phone call on Sunday night (whilst at dinner at G&A's)-my mom was rushed to the ER (ironically, the one where she's a supervisor) after having a stroke. They gave her tPA (a "clot buster") and airlifted her to a hospital in Trenton, where the AWESOMEST neurosurgeon is (like, he's in the top 10 neurosurgeon's IN THE NATION. And he's single and good looking, which doesn't hurt, either). She was doing okay on Monday, then started becoming lethargic and more unresponsive. The ICU nurse immediately rushed her for a CT scan, where they found a huge clot by her brain stem, and they took her into surgery and were able to remove the entire thing, which was no easy thing due to the amounts of tPA and heparin she was on.

So, what caused it? Well, Dr. Hotness thinks that it was a combination of narrowing of the arteries in the head (due to years of smoking) and one of the chemo drugs, cisplatin, which has a risk of inducing strokes. But, she's a fighter (she was already trying to do things for herself when I left last night) and she'll fight this.

She's still in the ICU but is doing much better-her right side is affected, and she really can't talk much due to the muscle weakness. She's more alert and is aware of what's going on (she keeps asking what her blood pressure is....the nurse in her can't take a day off, I suppose), which is a positive. She'll be moved soon to an acute rehab facility where she'll stay to do her therapies.

So, there we are. It was a scary few days, since it was very touch-and-go on Monday. I still can't comprehend that there was a very real chance that she could've died or become completely incapacitated on Monday had the doctors and nurses at the hospital hadn't moved as quickly as they did. The two hours that she was in surgery were probably the scariest time in my life, and watching my father go through this was difficult for me. I'm not ready to lose my mother yet. But, I feel like I'm also not ready for this, either. I've suddenly had to become an "adult" in a few short days, and I'm not liking it either. Unfortunately, I have no choice in the matter.

Adulthood, here I come.

Bitter And Not Really Liking It.

2009-10-13T18:16:00.002-04:00

Thank you, all of you out there on the 'Net, for your words of comfort. You get it, and I know that-you don't have to say anything more than "Shit, that sucks. Sorry" and I know that you truly understand. And, a special thanks goes out to Shelli-you're such a wonderful, giving, caring person, and I love you lots. LOTS!

I'm doing okay. I have moments that I'm so fucking angry that I want to scream and throw things (last night I looked at Sean and had the almost irresistable urge to punch him squarely in the face. Obviously I didn't do that, because then I'd be blogging from a prison common area rather than the comfort of my couch), alternating with times of just wanting to either cry, or hide and wait for the world to go away. I just want to wake up and it be nine years earlier, when I was younger, newly married and ignorant to infertility. Maybe if I knew then what I know now, I'd have made different decisions. But, shoulda coulda woulda, right?

Needless to say, it hasn't been fun. I go back to the RE next week to have the WTF conversation, along with a saline sonogram to make sure that everything has passed. We'll just have to wait until then to see what is the next suggestion. I'm thinking that she's going to suggest PGD, but I guess we won't know until Thursday. Unfortunately, since nothing was frozen, we'd have to start from scratch yet again. But, the real question du jour is this: do I want to do another cycle? Right now I can't even contemplate it, but if Dr. Pipsqueak feels strongly about doing another cycle and give me a good enough reason that we should, then maybe. Maybe doing PGD will help-at the least, it will lower the miscarriage rate due to the fact that we'd be transferring embryos that are chromosomally normal (that is, assuming that we'd have enough to transfer-I've learned the hard way that nothing is guaranteed with IVF). I've had every test under the sun to see if there's another underlying problem that's causing both the implantation failure and chemicals, and they've all come back as normal. So, what the fuck is the problem?

To say that Sean and I are both miserable fucks is putting it mildly. This hit us both really hard, especially since it was such a great cycle in the sense that we had great stats with my retrieval/fertilization rates, I didn't over respond, and we had so many blasts. It doesn't help that most people can't really fathom what we're going through, unless they've been through it themselves. And, even then, once they've made it through to the "other side" it's like a distant memory and they can't really relate. I also can't help feeling that every time, EVERY TIME we do this, something fucked up happens and it doesn't work, although it does for someone else. We're pregnancy magnets! Seriously! Unfortunately, the magnet also seems to repel any success for us. I can trace every single one of our friends children, with the exception of one, to a failed IVF or FET cycle, or a miscarriage. That's a lot of babies, people. And, yeah, perhaps it's negative thinking on my part (as was recently suggested to me), but it's also the truth. I'm the only one of my friends (excepting one couple who decided to be childfree) who doesn't have children. Hell, I'm the only one left from my original Fertility Friend group, from my bloglist. I'm the Last Woman Standing, and not by choice. I didn't do it to myself-no amount of negative or positive thinking, acupuncture, herbs, eating right, eliminating caffeine, meditation, tarot readings, praying to Saints, Guardian Angels, God/Allah/Buddha/The Flying Spaghetti Monster
has made this work for us. Oh, I guess statistically, it DID work, twice-it just didn't stick around long enough to grow into a baby who would later ask mommy to buy eyeliner and ask for the car keys. And I do realize that it's farther than some people have gotten in their reproductive treatment. But, dammit, I want it to be MY turn. Not my brother's, not my friend's or even the woman who's been sitting next to me for two weeks in the clinic waiting room. Yes, it's selfish and immature, but I think that I'm allowed to be bitter and angry and selfish and immature-sounding about it. I've been doing this long enough to be entitled to my feelings.

My feelings are really the only tangible thing that I have right now.

13dp5dt

2009-10-07T15:35:00.002-04:00

Yeah, well.....it's not a good ending.

Beta 9.9 I have to stop progesterone, be back on Friday for more bloodwork to make sure that the beta is going down, and make a follow-up with the doctor.

I also get to do the Rhogam therapy tomorrow at the hospital, due to being Rh negative. Yay....another sick day taken due to this. Wonderfuckingful.

Oh, did I mention it's also my anniversary? Yeah. Happy Anniversary Sean. Too bad my gift to you is another dead baby. Who knew we'd be having THIS MUCH FUN nine years later.

What. The. Fuck.

11dp5dt-Beta Hell

2009-10-05T19:12:00.002-04:00

Today's beta shows that my levels did go up, however, not as much as they hoped. The nurse said it was "20" (as to the exact number I don't know...guess I'll have to find that out tomorrow). So....from 15.6 to 20 pretty much sucks big monkey ass, right? The nurse who called me said that Dr. Pipsqueak still wants me to continue on the meds for two more days, then come in for Beta #3. When I asked her how realistic this pregnancy could be, she replied that "it doesn't look too good", but then again, sometimes things actually work out (which is why they're keeping me on the meds, I suppose). On one hand, it's good news that it DID go up, but not so good that it didn't double like they wanted. As to whether or not it will be considered viable....well, it's anyone's guess at this point. I've been trying to research on the 'Ol Interweb to see if there are any cases of women with low betas/doubling times that have gone on to have successful pregnancies, and there are women out there, so I guess there's always hope for me. The odds are against me, but there's always a chance, right?

It's odd-I didn't get really upset when I got the phone call (probably because I was in the middle of a faculty meeting), and I'm not totally gutted right now. Maybe I'm still in a state of shock over the whole fucking thing, but I just have a peaceful feeling about this (at least, at this point in time). Sure I want this to work, but it's not up to me, ultimately. That embryo just needs to either make it, or it won't. I've been through this before, and yes, it sucks royally. But at least I know what to expect, unlike the last time. Last night, as I was lying in bed, I had a little talk with the Man Upstairs (as well as St. Anthony, St. Gerard, St. Rita, St. Theresa and the ever-appropriate St. Jude....patron saint of lost causes) and just asked for a sign that this will all work out for the best. Needless to say I went to bed without a definitive answer.

On the way home today I was driving up the Parkway when I looked up at the sky. It was a partly-cloudy day, where the clouds are all puffy and look like cotton balls. Anyway.....so I was thinking about the game I used to play when I was a little kid, where you would look at the clouds and see what objects you could "see" in the clouds, when I looked at the cloud formation that was directly in front of me. It was in the shape of an early fetus, lying on it's back. You know what I mean-that picture you see when it's around 6-10 weeks old. Yeah.

My question is: is it wishful thinking, or is it that sign that I asked for? The jury is still out on that one.

9dp5dt-Beta Day

2009-10-03T12:35:00.002-04:00

I did two more Evil Pee Sticks of Anxiety this morning, and the faint positives are still there, probably a little bit darker than yesterday.

Beta came back at 15.9, Progesterone at 27. I stay on meds for another two days, then go back on Monday for a repeat to see if the numbers have doubled.

I'm trying to stay positive and focused, because Nurse Blondie said that it isn't necessarily a bad number (lower than they'd like to see, but still better than a single-digit). I personally don't give a fiddler's fart-as long as it consistently doubles, that's enough for me. It's going to be difficult, since I've been here once before, and you all know how THAT ended up.

So, all of you out there in InternetLand, please pray to God/Buddha/Allah/The Flying Spaghetti Monster/Whoever that this works. I can't go through the awfulness a second time.

8dp5dt-The Night Before The Morning Of

2009-10-02T17:07:00.003-04:00

Thanks for your support guys. It's sort of blown over, I think. I still haven't talked to my brother, and I won't until we know about the results of tomorrow's beta (then, depending on the results....well, we'll see). I did talk to my dad for his birthday the other day, and it wasn't mentioned by either of us, and I haven't talked to my mother yet, although her treatment is next week. *Sigh*. Hopefully they'll have learned their lesson about thinking before speaking, but I doubt it. It's just best to distance myself for now.

As for the 2ww front: well, nothing yet. I've been having cramps in varying degress all week long, and the girls have been killing me. I mean killing me and then once I'm dead KILLING ME AGAIN. Oddly enough, they hurt more at night than in the morning. The other night they were literally throbbing from the outside and in towards my center. Ugh. It's like taking off my bra and feeling like a bag of rocks dropped out. I'm tired, hungry, constantly peeing, sore and starting to get lumpy from the PIO. What else is new, right? That's why PIO sucks-it gives you the pregnancy mind fuck.

As for testing...........sorry Heather, but I did cave. I can't help it-I'm of the mindset that I need to be prepared, so that if it's negative it's not a total kick in the ass. I started on 6dp5dt, which was BFN. Then again the next day, which was "sort-of" negative (kinda ambiguous, so I'm going to say BFN). Today, I did three more, one in the morning (the CBE +/- kind), and two this afternoon when I got home (a FRER and a CVS brand, which is supposed to be like a FRER). The CBE had a really really faint "+" line (like you had to really look at it), but the FRER had a more defined line (but still very faint, though). The CVS one also had a really faint line, but not as strong as the FRER. The upshot of all this? I'm not sure. It's definitely not an evap line, because the faint 2nd line came up within the 5 minute window. If it IS positive then the beta could come up as really low, which isn't a good sign (and I've been there before). If it's negative, then it's just a fucking bad karmic joke. However, three different test coming up as (sort of) false positive? I'm not sure that could be happening-it's too weird. Either way, there are two tests left (a FRER and a CVS) so I'll test tomorrow before I leave for the beta and let Sean look at it (he doesn't know-I'm a closet POAS'er!! HELP!) to get a second opinion.

So friends, hold your applause, because we're at that "maybe.......not sure" stage of the 2ww. We'll all know tomorrow, one way or the other. I know which way I want it to go, though.

4dt5dt-Self-Preservation Is My New Best Friend

2009-09-28T09:17:00.003-04:00

So far, so good. I've had a little cramping off and on, but I'm really not feeling anything else as of yet. Of course, we all know that progesterone is a little bitch in regards to side effects screwing with your mind, so I'm trying not to read into anything as of yet, since it's too early to tell anything.

Yesterday we got a little shock when we got a phone call from my brother and sister-in-law, who were visiting my parents. They kept asking us if we were going to be there, but we wanted a weekend to ourselves, so we decided to stay home.

I'm glad now that we made that decision. My brother announced (after asking that we put him on speakerphone) that he and his wife are expecting. They'll be married six months on Sunday. Nice, huh? I couldn't even talk to him-I managed to choke out a "congratulations" and had to walk out of the room. After Sean hung up the phone I just lost it (pumped up by My Buddy Progesterone)-I mean, LOST IT. I cried for two hours, because it seems like EVERY CYCLE we have, someone else gets pregnant (and, I'm not kidding-I can connect almost every one of our friend's or family member's children to when we've done an IVF or FET cycle)............and it's never us. I couldn't help feeling that it's a bad omen of what's to come.

Of course, my mother had to call later and bitch me out because I was "wrong" to act the way I did. Hello? Really? I got into an argument with her (yeah, thanks again hormones!) and told her that perhaps, PERHAPS, she should've told him what was going on (since they didn't know we were doing a cycle) and maybe they should've waited to call me until we find out what's going on (they aren't far along anyway, why the frig are they telling us NOW?). She said that she did tell him, and that he wasn't sure to call, but my mother "didn't think that it was a big deal, because everything's going so well (JINX!!) for us". Yeah, because it's not like we haven't done this before, and things have gone well in the past......and we know how that turned out, right? I told her that there is no guarantee that this will work, and it was shitty of her to be so naive. She tried to put me on the phone with my father, but I just didn't want to talk to any of them. I just freaked out, and they were pissed off at me and hung up on me (after my father angrily told me that my brother doesn't want us to tell anyone. Great. I didn't want to be told, why would I broadcast it?).

Of course, Sean is upset. We were both thrown by the news. But he's more upset because he doesn't want me to be stressed out, because he thinks that my stress levels and the outcome of this cycle are connected. I just couldn't help reacting the way I did. Sean actually called my parents later and tried to explain how I'm feeling to them, that, although they are supportive, they will never know the hell we've gone through in regards to infertility. That the hormones I'm taking aren't helping my reaction, and that even he can't fully relate to it, because he's not the one who is being poked, prodded, injected, hooked up to things and having surgery to have what others have. He told me later that he thinks she has a better idea, but she still has "her opinions" on the matter (whatever), and that she does care about we're going through. Sean just thinks that she's just the type of person who isn't totally involved emotionally, which he's right.

My family, who is SUPPOSED to be supportive of us, can't understand why I'm so upset, that it's not fair to them (true, but again....HELLO?) and that we "should be happy for them". Yeah, well perhaps if I wasn't in the throes of what is my last IVF cycle and in 2WW hell, I could've probably mustered up an acceptable theatrical display of oohing and ahhing. But I feel like my mother, MY MOTHER, should've tried more to protect my feelings on this. Instead, she's all happy happy, because she's getting her long-awaited grandchild; and, like I always felt, it won't be from me. Even if this does work, it's like the thunder has been stolen from it, because he got there first. Yeah, it's selfish and babyish of me to think that way, but when the Only Son of the family announces that he's knocked up his wife, everything else in an Italian family just isn't as important. I should be used to it, but I always, stupidly think that it'll change and my parents will magically *POOF* realize that. Nah.

So I've decided that I won't talk to any of them right now, and if we're lucky that this works, we still won't tell them until we have to. I'm tired of being the one who always worries about what my family thinks. It's time to think of myself first. Yes, I know that at this point there's not much more I can do for those embryos, but I can try to help myself.

1dp5dt, Times 3

2009-09-25T11:12:00.003-04:00

Well, folks....the deed is done. There are now embryos safely smooshed between my uterine walls, to hopefully do their little thing. I'm kinda counting on them to know their role and attach, but you know how kids are.....they NEVER do what you want them to. Unless it involves massive amounts of Jolly Rancher candies, McDonalds and XBox video games. But, I digress.

I show up at the surgery center almost promptly at 1pm, with my bottle of water in dutifully in hand, and do the usual melee of signing away your life (or those of your embryos) in paperwork. I was the only one in the waiting room, and it didn't take long for someone to come and get me to prep for the transfer. I get my rockin' hot designer outfit of gown (open in the back, of course), slipper socks (grey) thick, fluffy robe (that tries to make you almost believe you're in a spa, but then you suddenly realize that the only "massage" you're getting involves a metal speculum. WITHOUT LUBE), and a blue paper hat that makes you look like a lunch lady and sit in my little recliner (complete with warm towel-see what I mean about the spa part?). They take my vitals, blah blah blah, and I sit and wait for the RE to come in and give me the news. And she gave me a whole lot of news.

Now, as we last left our little saga, we had 18 eggs retrieved, 16 mature and 12 fertilized, which are pretty damn good stats. As of yesterday (day five, remember) All 12 were STILL GROWING. Yeah, you read that correctly. I still had all twelve as of yesterday. It was better than they could've hoped for. So......the recommendation was to transfer in three blasts. I was a little apprehensive at first, given that blasts are more likely to succeed, but they want to take a "more aggressive approach" this time around. What worried me is the higher-order multiple risk, but the doctor assured me that the triplet rate is only around 5%. However, the twin risk is around 35-40%, which is probably higher in my case, given that twins run in both sides of my family (there have been five sets in my family, and three are still living-my mom's brother and sister are twins, and we don't have any as yet in my generation of family members). Whoo hoo-double trouble!! So I made the decision to go through with it, and off I went to the OR and had them transferred in.

So here we are, at 1dp5dt. And I'm really okay about it, so far. I'm not overly obsessive yet, and I was pretty calm during the drive up there. Really calm, in fact. Which is pretty much my attitude throughout this whole cycle-there really hasn't been any anxiety over anything. As for the remaining blasts-well, they will check them today to see if they meet freezing criteria, and will freeze what's okay. Hopefully we'll have some frozen, because I like to hedge my bets. But, seriously.....I'm actually pretty peaceful about it all. I'm taking my prenatal vitamins, eating well, sleeping well (except having to get up at night to pee-damn progesterone!!), not having too much progesterage and Sean still has all of his body parts. What could be better than that?

Other than the obvious, of course. Beta is scheduled for October 3rd.

Well, Well, Well.....

2009-09-22T09:49:00.002-04:00

Got another surprise this morning at around 9:30, but in a really good way.

Dr. Pipsqueak called while we were having breakfast-my embryos are doing really well ("the best we've ever seen" is what she said) and are going for a day-5 transfer on Thursday-TBA. We'll know exactly when later today.

Did I mention exactly how great the new place I work is? I went in yesterday morning and had a talk with my principal (who I've been honest with about our whole journey, so she knew that we were going to do this) and told her that we weren transferring on Tuesday and I'd need the day off. She told me it was absolutely no problem; and, in fact, I should also take Wednesday off to "rest and relax". I told her that it was really not necessary, but she insisted. She's already told me that she really wants this to work for us, and that she'll do whatever she can to make it happen. How cool is she?

I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm scared shitless. I know that blasts have a higher implantation rate, and from my own experience the only success I had was with a blast, despite it being a FET. But, the fact that it failed also is sitting in the back of my mind too. This whole cycle has been one big surprise in the way that nothing went as planned, from the cysts to actually getting to transfer at all. Perhaps this is the ending we all want? I'm afraid to hope for it, so I don't jinx it.

It all seems so weird. I know that I didn't post this, but for my retrieval my anesthesiologist was the same guy that I had when I had my hysteroscopy ages ago with Dr. Vest (which was right before I started my first cycle), and we recognized each other. Now, I'm (fingers crossed) about to have a blast transfer, like I did for my first FET, which did result in a pregnancy (albeit briefly). Perhaps everything is parallelling because it's coming full circle, and this is really the cycle for us? Am I reading into too much? Hmmm......

I don't think that I've ever heard Dr. Pipsqueak so excited about our results. She said that she told the embryologist that "this is it....this is the cycle where she gets pregnant".

From your mouth to God's ears. We'll know soon enough.

Wrenches

2009-09-20T08:40:00.004-04:00

Holy crap, has it been like two weeks since I've last posted? Sheesh. Sorry y'all, but the past two weeks were a kick in the ass in relation to time-management. But, I do have updates! Woot!

Lets see......what's new? Oh, we got another cat! She's an adorable six week old kitten that we've named Callie. She was part of a litter that my MIL rescued (she's kind of the crazy cat lady of her neighborhood) when they were about a week or so old. She raised them, and we decided to take one of the litter. She's really sweet and loooves to cuddle, but has all that crazy kitten energy that has resulted in little claw marks all over my legs. We've kept her seperate from Peachy for now, since she's so small (she's in the office, which is partly why I haven't updated-the computer is in here and every time I try to get on she wants to play....typical), but I'm sure in a week or two she'll run havoc around the house.

Mom's doing well-she had phase two of her chemo treatment that, honestly isn't as much "fun" as the last time. She had to go into the hospital for three days for partial IV chemo (1 day) and then they also inject a dose directly into the port that's in her abdomen. Then they flush her body with 1000 cc's of fluids so the port chemo doesn't stay in her system-kind of like marinating her insides. So she's feeling a bit nauseous this time, not to mention the bloating and constant peeing from the fluids. She's lost about 15 or so pounds through this journey (she's down to 97 pounds) so it's important that she eats, but she wasn't hungry because of the fluid push-hopefully that will change. Not fun, but necessary.

Now, onto the main event....my cycle!

When we last left our saga, I was starting Lupron and going back for monitoring that Thursday. I started the FolliSTING that night (75IU, can you believe it!), overlapping with the Lupron and stopped the BCP's. So, I was plugging along on the same dosage (I'm still amazed at that small amount of stims....unreal, right?) and going every two days for monitoring, which really sucked because I had to get up at 4:30am in order to get to the clinic and to work on time-with the new job it now takes me an hour to get to work from there. Starting this past Monday I was going every morning (double suckage), and they let me trigger Thursday, with the retrieval being Saturday morning. Then Dr. Pipsqueak decided that she wanted to throw a small wrench into the plan by calling me on Friday and letting me know that there was a "distinct possibility" I could have a fresh transfer this cycle, since I did so well with the stims (her words were that I didn't "explode like you usually do"). So I had to get PIO and Medrol from the office, since it was never ordered for me. Luckily I was already in the hospital visiting mom and I could just walk over, and I already have tons of leftover PIO needles!

I had the retreival yesterday (LOVE those drugs ,btw!) and they got 18 eggs! We'll find out today the fert report and whether or not we'll do a fresh transfer this cycle or not. I did start PIO last night (yeah, forgot how much THAT sucked!) just in case.

Let's hope that the wrench in the plan is a good one.

**************update***************

Nurse Blondie called late this morning with my results:

18 retrieved, 16 mature, 12 fertilized. Day 3 transfer scheduled for 12:30pm on Tuesday.

Here we go again.

The Ganirelix Love Affair

2009-09-05T20:53:00.001-04:00

First of all, thanks for all the comments and support. Honestly, I thought that, because I've been neglectful of this here blog, there would be nobody really around these parts, but thanks to you (and LFCA.....you rock like a aging heroin punk groupie on the Bowery) I know that I'm still not alone, even though I've been at this shit for as long as I have been. I'm the crusty old infertile that sits in the corner of the room talking about the "good 'ol days", when men were men and women were.....well, you know what I mean.

And, I apologize for leaving anyone hanging out there in regards to what's going on with my girly-bits. I went back to work on Tuesday (kids came on Wednesday) so it's been pretty crazy right now with getting back into the swing of things, and then adding in getting up at the ass-crack of dawn (the ass-crack being 4:30 am to get out of the house by 5:30 and getting to the office by 5:50am)to go to BIC for monitoring and THEN going to work, which is an hour from the office (with some traffic).....all to make it in time for my homeroom. Sheesh.

So. I went to the RE on Sunday morning, bright and early for my bloodwork and wanding. Of course, I was also killing a few birds with one stone, because my RE's office is attached to and affiliated with the hospital where my mother was recuperating from her cancer surgery (more on that in another post, but the streamlined version is that they did the total hysterectomy, didn't have to remove any of the bowel, the cancer cells were 99.9% gone according to the surgeon, and they installed the intra-peritoneal port for course #2 of chemo under her skin.). I drag Lovely Sean with me into the wanding room, where he proceeds to yet again prove his lack of common decency by asking me if he thought that Dr. Pipsqueak would find it odd if he asked her if he could lick the probe afterwards, like a Kohr's Frozen Custard on the Jersey Shore boardwalk. Really. I can't make this shit up, I swear.

And, no......I didn't let him. Although it would've been worth it to see the reaction he got, I DO have some pride left in me throughout this.

Yes, people-I STILL want to reproduce with this man. And make him partially responsible for any offspring I might release from my loins. Um....yeah. Of course, since any child we have will be half mine and half his genetically, and Murphy's Law being what it is, they'll more than likely inherit this lovely trait from him. Wonderful. I'll be the future gestator of probe-licking children who have no "filter" button. Can't wait for Back-To-School Night already!!

Oh, sorry......anyways, the upshot of this whole thing is that, once the wand was inserted, we all find out that the cysts are GONE. Buh-bye! It was like Ganirelix is the Wonder Drug Of The Fertility Universe. Like, I'd marry it if it were legal. Hell....I'd even let it not put the toilet seat down afterwards. Because THAT'S how much I love this damn medication. I even read something online about a study that was recently done using Ganirelix on high responders and those at-risk of OHSS, and it worked in lowering fast-rising E2 levels without compromising egg quality-better than lowering doses or coasting. I mentioned it to Dr. Pipsqueak and she got a big shit-eating grin on her face and agreed that the findings were pretty cool. It's like Ganirelix was MADE FOR ME! Hallelujah!

I got the call Sunday night to start Lupron (10 units) and overlap with the BCP. And, OH MY GOOD GOD, I forgot how much injecting suuuucks. I've been at it for almost a week and I'm still getting over that "my hand is trying to stick a needle in my body" mental override that you have to do. I mean, for the first time EVER I bruised badly enough that I still can't inject on my right side. It was bright purple and about the diameter of a golf ball, I swear (but is now starting to turn that pretty shade of yellowish-pink). I even had the school nurse look at it, to make sure that I wasn't internally bleeding to death (she didn't think so, btw). It still freaks me out looking at it.

I had to go back to BIC for monitoring on Thursday (how I made it through the day I have NO IDEA-thank God we only had the kids for a half day) and got the all-clear call from Nurse Blondie-I could stop BCP's, and start the Folli-STING (75IU-can you believe it? It's like the dosage for an IUI!!) tonight. Woot! Sean also got to start his Doryx today. I get to go back on Tuesday for monitoring and we'll take it from there.

Wow.....we're FINALLY on the ride! I thought we'd never get here. I am a bit excited now that the process has started. Of course, once I start daily monitoring (probably the middle of next week) I'm sure that if you asked me, I'd say that I'd rather have a dirty spork sticking out of my eye than stim. But, I'm feeling good about it at this point in time.

And, that'll do for now. Quite nicely, in fact.

Chemical Cocktails Aren't Very Tasty, But The Souvenir Glass Is Nice

2009-08-26T17:01:00.006-04:00

Well, friends.....in our newest installment of "Who Wants To Be A Down-Regulator", we found out that (1). the HCG shot worked in the sense that my LH and E2 levels have somewhat gone down, (2). My P4 levels have gone up, and (3). one of the cysts is shrinking.

However, my E2 and P4 levels haven't changed as much as they need in order to start Lupron (my reading is 2, and it needs to be 3......isn't that a har-de-har?), and the cyst on my right side has gotten bigger (4cm). So, after Dr. Pipsqueak reviewed today's latest bloodletting, she has come up with a new plan to try to suppress me enough to start Lupron. Starting tonight I get to start BCP's (yay.....my favorite!) and add in Ganirelix for the next four days, then go in on Sunday for more bloodwork and a date with the wand. If everything looks good, then Lupron is a go (I have until Sept 1st to start Lupron for this lab series). If not.....then the plan is to stay on the BCP until the next series starts in October. Which blows big monkey balls, but there's not much that I, or anyone else can do. I had to go pick up my meds at the office and got to speak to Nurse Blondie, and I did ask whether or not I should be concerned about the cyst bursting or getting bigger, and she said that Dr. Pipsqueak doesn't seem to be overly concerned and that the cyst is pretty small compared to the size it could be if I didn't take the HCG. But, that cyst is still creating hell and havoc, much like a middle-schooler. How ironic.

Nurse Blondie suggested having a "talk" with my ovaries, and I told her that I've begged, cajoled, bribed and threatened those little fuckers, and that the next move is a well-aimed punch in the cooter. Oddly, she didn't find that as funny as I thought. Hmmm. Perhaps I shouldn't have used the word cooter.

So.....that means that I get to start a new chemical cocktail, starting tonight. Anyone out there take Ganirelix and have any input? Is it more, or less shittier than Lupron? How about side effects? The only thing I could find on my trusty Dr. Google is that it's a GNRH-antagonist, which is like someone telling me in Russian that I should try black caviar. And, I HATE BCP's....hate, hate, hate them! Ugh, nothing like being a moody bitch right in time for the new school year, huh? Heads are gonna ROLL next week with my 7th grade homeroom! Grooowwwwl! Let's hope that it really doesn't make me crazy.....or, at least, not as crazy as Loopy Lupron does.

Seriously, though, I am disappointed-I won't gloss over that-but not totally gutted by it. Perhaps now is not the right time to do a cycle, and, with everything else that's going on with school starting and my mother's illness (she's doing well, btw....the tumor has shrunk to the point that the CAT scan can't pick it up, and they've moved her surgery up to this Friday, instead of in November). I just can't help feeling that time is slipping away from me with each passing month that we don't conceive. I'll be 37 my next birthday; and, although it is still technically "young", even by infertility standards, it sure ain't 30. It's the age where I have to start worrying about upped miscarriage and Down's syndrome rates, CVS and amnio testing, and all the crap that I never gave a thought about when we started this whole mess. To be honest, I idealistically thought that we'd have more than one child by now, and we wouldn't have to worry anymore. That the world of infertility would be just a distant memory for us.

Boy, was I wrong on that one.

Punch, Meet Judy

2009-08-18T18:35:00.002-04:00

Well, it's official....I have not one, but two cysts on my ovaries-one measuring 2cm on the right side, and one almost 3 on the left one.

Sean got to name them this time-Punch, and Judy. Hopefully they'll kick the shit out of each other. As for me, that's what Anaprox is for, right?

According to the RE's office, my estradiol numbers are going down, but not as much as they want. So, I get to take my HCG trigger today or tonight (no set time), and they "should" rupture. Then I get to go back in on Monday for another wanding and more bloodletting. After that......well, we won't get our hopes up yet, shall we?

Hey, c'mon.....this is par for the course for us. SOMETHING has to go wrong when we decide to do IF treatment. It wouldn't be AS MUCH FUN then, right?

I'm still waiting for the punchline, though.

Hmmmmmm.....

2009-08-18T07:11:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm back in the doctor's office AGAIN. I came in yesterday for my usual "WTF" bloodletting, only to get a phone call from Nurse Blondie yesterday afternoon. My estradiol is still up, and my progesterone hasn't risen high enough to see if I ovulated, so I'm now here for more bloodwork and a wanding to see what's brewing in my girly-bits.

Of course, I've been crampy on my right side for the last few data, and when I woke up this morning and peed, I found a smear o' bright red blood on the toilet paper. And a clot in the toilet (yeah, it TMI-deal with it!).

Anyone wanna put on their Dr. House hat and diagnose me? I'm guessing a cyst, but it's anyone's guess.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

2009-08-12T06:58:00.001-04:00

Let's hope that my body cooperates today, and I've actually ovulated. I'm tired of this shit already, and I haven't even really started the process yet!

At least the office doesn't seem as crowded today-I got a comfy warmer seat on the first try! And a cup of coffee that tastes pretty good. I'll take comfort in that, at least.

You've got to try to appreciate the small stuff, right?

I'll update later once I hear.

******update 2:30 pm********

Well, what do YOU think happened?

Orders are to be back in the office Monday for bloodwork.

It's cycle day 30. Why don't I have a good feeling about this?

I need a fucking drink. I'm just SO done with this shit.

You win, ovaries. I say Uncle.

-- Post From My iPhone

Deja-Vu

2009-08-09T07:29:00.002-04:00

Hmmm....guess where I am?

It looks like they're giving away another IVF door prize this morning. Of course, being a weekend, there are a lot of husbands/partners/significant others here. But, I didn't get a Seatsicle, so that must count for something in the IF universe.

So, shall we take bets as to whether or not I've ovulated? I'm guessing yes, but that's the cock-eyed optimist in me. That, and perhaps the half-pitcher of sangria I sucked down last night at dinner.

We must get through somehow, right

-- Post From My iPhone

***********************

Okay, it's now 12:45, and I got the call from Nurse Blondie.

Guess what? C'mon, you know the answer to this one!

I STILL HAVEN'T STARTED LUPRON!!!!!!! I need to go back on Wednesday, because I'm "really close" but....no cigar.

I'm about to punch my cooter in the cooter and give it a "time-out". I hope that this isn't a precursor to how this cycle could potentially turn out. If that's the case, fuck it!

GGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

WTF?

2009-08-07T14:30:00.001-04:00

Can you fucking believe that I STILL haven't ovulated??? It's CD 25, for fuck's sake!!!! Apparently I'm "close", though; so I now have to go back on Sunday.

Now, if this was just a regular cycle for me, I'd be ovulating at CD 26....Which would make this a 40 day cycle. 40 days! I've NEVER had a cycle that long before. Now I'm freaked out because I'm thinking, what if I'm starting to go perimenopausal?

AHHHHHHHHH! THIS SUUUUCKS!!!

-- Post From My iPhone

The Waiting Room, Round Two

2009-08-07T06:49:00.001-04:00

I'm back at the clinic for my blood draw, and I screwed the pooch yet again-I got another Seatsicle. Although, I can't complain too much...it's only partially under the air vent. At least the TV's on this time!

Ooh-I did the Fertility Chair Switch and got a warmer seat!
Woot! Maybe that's a good sign that I'm going to start Lupron!

Isn't it sad that I base my IVF success by the seat I get at the clinic? Yeah, I thought so.

-- Post From My iPhone

Figures....

2009-08-05T22:59:00.002-04:00

So, do you think that perhaps MAYBE I can have an IVF cycle go somewhat smoothly?

Nah, why should it? That would make it boring, right? The extra stress just adds to the experience!

Sean and I had to go back to the clinic on Monday afternoon because we forgot to fill out our consent forms. While I was there, Nurse Blondie let me know that I had to go back on Friday for more bloodwork, since I hadn't ovulated yet. And, since I haven't ovulated yet, I can't begin the Lupron.

Yep, that's right-it was cycle day twenty-freakin' one and I HADN'T OVULATED YET!! WTF? This has never, ever happened to me before. Unfuckingbelievable.

I guess that explains why I pretty much sexually assualted my husband on Saturday AND Sunday.

Well, that means that it's back to the clinic on Friday morning for the ~~Annual Running of the Hormonal Bulls~~ blood draw and hope to God that I get a good seat. Or else I'm bringing my parka. And my down comforter. And a thermos of vodka.

Because everything is easier with a thermos of vodka. Trust me on that.

The Waiting Room

2009-08-03T06:36:00.002-04:00

Is it twisted and sick to get disappointed when you groom your girly-bits for a date with the Follicular Lurve Wand, only to find out that you're only having bloodwork instead?

I GROOMED, dammit! My va-jay-jay hasn't looked his good in MONTHS! Oh, well...

------------------------------
I was up at an UNGODLY hour this morning-5:45 to be exact-so that I could get to the RE's office for b/w and an ultrasound. But it appears that there was no need to, because it's bloodwork only this morning. So, here I am, early-morning blogging at the office. And, this is the second time I've made this mistake-I guess I'm a little IF rusty when it comes to appointments.

Did I ever tell you about the chair situation at the RE's office? Oh, God....it's frickin' HILARIOUS! So, the waiting room in the office is pretty large, with a lot of chairs and couches around, tables with an assortment of magazines for your reading pleasure, a coffee machine and pastries-even a flat-screen TV (Which isn't on right now-boo). Well, like in most doctor's office, it feels like Siberia in here-and it's like that ALL YEAR ROUND. Like, it's warmer outside in January than it is in the waiting room. Why is this? What the fuck is the point-to kill germs?

Anyway, there's a whole bank of seats under the windows that, although close to the TV, are RIGHT UNDER the air conditioner vents. And, NOBODY wants to sit there due to the fact that you freeze your tits off. You'd probably get frostbite waiting to have blood drawn. In fact, you'd probably have frozen blood to draw. Not to mention a frozen cooter. Not that the actual exam room is any warmer-it's only slightly warmer than a meat locker.

So, the game amongst the patients is to get there early enough so you're not in those seats-call it "Musical Chairs for IF Treatment", if you will. When they call your name for the blood draw, you actually have to leave all your shit on the seat like a 2nd grade child, otherwise the poor saps that got the Seatsicles will jump into your chair faster than shit out of a goose. And then look at you when you come out of the lab like they're expecting a fight. Nothing like a room full of women hopped up on hormones, huh? If you end up with the bad luck of getting the Seatsicle for the whole time you're there (which could be up to an hour and a half, depending on how busy it is), the nurse basically has to melt you out of your seat with a hair dryer to get you in the exam room. Well, I got here this morning at 6:15, thinking I would "win" the game and get a good chair, but, alas, the waiting room looked like they were giving away an IVF door prize, and guess where I had to sit....you've got it....THOSE SEATS! I can't feel my extremities and am now praying to be put out of my misery. Could you hook a sister up with a heating pad, for fuck's sake?

Whoever said that IF isn't so bad obviously hasn't sat in this waiting room. Help!

-- Post From My iPhone

I Like To Ride My (IVF) Bicycle.....

2009-07-28T23:49:00.002-04:00

I had my RE appointment last week with Dr. Pipsqueak, for a physical and saline ultrasound, and it's weird getting back on this IVF bandwagon. It's a bit like riding a bike after not using one for years-you kind of wobble around like a drunk for a few minutes, fall off on to your ass, scrape your knee and curse and wonder why the fuck you're doing this in the first place, because it's OH SO MUCH FUN. Then, you get that sense of familiarity and everything starts to work together, as if you've suddenly remembered something buried deep inside you, and it all starts to make sense, in a fucked-up hormonally challenged sort of way.

Yeah, infertility is like that, isn't it? Especially when you've done multiple IVF cycles and have taken a long break in between, like me. I actually forgot who to call when it was my CD 1, and I made a complete ass of myself when trying to find out who gets the call (I ended up calling the admin AND the nurse....better safe than sorry, right?). But, I'm trying to worry less about the small, dopey things and focus on the things that I can control; which, let's face it....isn't a whole hell of a lot-at least, not when it comes to an IVF cycle.

So....yeah, did I mention how much I LOATHE the saline ultrasound? Yeah. A lot. I mean, I can look on the bright side....it ain't an HSG (and we KNOW how much I love them. If it weren't for Captain Valium and his sidekick Sergeant Anaprox, I'd be writhing on the floor in pain). But.....ew. Gross. Messy and just awkward. But, necessary.

All went well with the appointment, though. The girly-bits checked out fine, and the physical went well. Right before the ultrasound, she said to me, "So....have I told you what we've planned on doing for you?" (which ALWAYS makes me feel like all the RE's in the office are are discussing my cooter whilst tenting their fingers together a la Montgomery Burns and saying "Exxxxcelllent...."). So, since I had no idea what she was talking about she told me that she went to the lab director with "my file" (as she said those words she held her hands apart about six inches, which leads me to believe that my chart must obviously be the size of "The Lord of the Rings"....all three of them) and asked him to look at it. The whole damn thing. Shit-I hope that guy had enough Red Bull on hand for that one, because I'm sure that it was just fascinating reading. Sort of a cross between reading grafitti on a bathroom wall and a church bulletin. Or maybe a church bulletin graffitied on a bathroom wall? In a church? Oh, never mind....

Anyway, after the poor man probably went blind reading my ~~epic trilogy-like novel~~ chart (Myyy PRECIOUS.....), he and the other RE's decided that perhaps a fresh transfer isn't the way to go with me. It's obviously that I don't need a lot of medication in order to produce the amount of eggs to populate a Third-World country, and that it's a delicate dance to balance my meds with enough mature eggs to retrieve-stay on the meds too long, get a lot of eggs, and no fresh transfer; trigger earlier to avoid OHSS and get a transfer, and not get enough mature eggs to fertilize. And, because from past experience I seem to have no problem with embryos fertilizing, developing and their status post-thawing, we'll be doing another freeze-all cycle. As Dr. Pipsqueak put it, "There's no sense forcing your body to do something that perhaps it isn't able to do". Which, although it makes me feel shitty that I, yet AGAIN, have managed to be unable to do what "normal" women can do, she does have a valid point. In my case, there might be no way that I'd ever be able to do a full IVF cycle all at once. It's such a delicate balance with all the medications that are taken, and if I over-respond to the stims, there might really never be a way to balance it out with progesterone in the luteal phase. Although numbers-wise I've never had a problem with that, maybe I'm just really sensitive to that and it's just the way it is. Great, huh?

But, there is a plus side to all of this insanity. I don't have to do PIO. My ass-cheeks have been saved to fight another day. Woot! There is a plus side to IVF-who knew??

I got my call from Nurse Blondie today and I'll be doing the CD 21 long Lupron protocol (otherwise known around these parts as "The Neverending Migraine And Mental Insanity From The Fire-Pit of Burning Hell"), I was hoping at first that I'd do the BCP/Lupron overlap, which was the one that I did the very first time, which was two weeks of BCP's , then overlapping the Loopy Lupron for the last three days. I like the latter better-the less time I'm on Lupron, the better it is for anyone who has to have any personal contact with me-but, because of scheduling (mine, not the clinic-we've got to do the retrieval before September 1st, which is when school starts) I'm doing the Long Lupron protocol, but at a higher dosage-I'm starting on 20 units of Lupron and they'll taper it down, which I did for the last cycle. The Lupron Suckfest will begin in about six days (Aug. 3rd), so my favorite side effects of headaches, mood swings and hot flashes should be hitting me full-force right around the time of a family reunion picnic (Sean's side) and my FIL's surprise 60th birthday party. If his family ALREADY didn't think that my husband married a crazy person, then they're in for a treat that they couldn't even begin to imagine. Hoo boy! Party on! Can't wait!

The Return of the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Girl

2009-07-01T13:22:00.003-04:00

So, I've been thinking a lot about this upcoming cycle lately. I don't know-call me a little crazy-but, I'm actually looking forward to it, in a sick and sort of stick-sharp-objects-in-your-body kind of way. However, there is one thing that I seriously need to do before we move forward.

Lose weight. Because, OH MY GOD, I can't stand the way I look right now. And it's not going to get any better once we add meds to the mix.

I've gained about 10-12 pounds in the last year, and that's not counting the fact that I was 15-20 pounds overweight to begin with. So, that means that I've gained a total of thirty pounds since I've started IF treatment. Holy motherfucking shit. Of course, some of that weight is in my boobs (I was already a D-cup when we started, and have slowly migrated to a DD), but not THIRTY POUNDS. That means that I am going to have to get serious when it comes to losing some of the weight before we start, which doesn't give me a lot of time. Plus, I've been such a lazy bitch when it comes to exercising. I just can't be bothered, which is NOT GOOD. I don't know if it's a sign that I just don't give a rat's ass, or that I need to get motivated, but I just can't stand it anymore. I have to do something about it, STAT.

So, I've had the online membership for WW since February of last year, and within the last two weeks have been tracking my food intake. My biggest problem is not what I eat, because we actually eat pretty healthfully-lots of whole grains, fresh fruit and veg, and we rarely cook or eat red meat (honestly, the only time I eat steak is when we go out to dinner) at home-but, I think my problem is a combo of the fact that I don't drink enough water throughout the day, and also that my dinner tends to be later because Sean doesn't get home until 7pm, which means we don't usually eat until 7:30-8pm. And, that's not really good when you want to lose weight. Add that to the fact that I'm not really exercising, and well......there you go. Thirty fucking pounds later.

It's just so damn frustrating. It's bad enough that I can't get pregnant on my own, but to LOOK like I'm pregnant (or like I've just had a baby) when I clearly haven't, is embarrassing. I guess I should console myself with the fact that at least it's somewhat evenly distributed throughout my body (but a lot of it is in my belly). Thank God for big tits, though....they make my belly look smaller. You've got to be happy for the small accomplishments in life, right? A big problem for me is that I don't have a "buddy" to help motivate me, so I get lazy. Sean's no help-he's on his feet all day long, so he burns his food as fast as he eats it. Plus, he's a man-and we all know they tend to lose faster. Fuckers. Not like he needs to anyway-he's got a nice flat stomach to fit in his 33" waisted pants. Bastard.

Now, it's time to get off my ass and move around. Enough talking about it....it's time to start acting on it. I'll be blogging on my progress, so if I cheeze out, I give any one of you out there full permission to kick my fat ass around the block. Whatever it takes, right?

Potpourri

2009-06-21T23:52:00.004-04:00

Wow, I had NO idea that I haven't updated in four months!

I guess it's official-I am a total slacker when it comes to blogging lately. However, I'm discovering that "itch" to blog again, because I'm feeling a need to express myself here. I feel as if I can truly say what I feel, without having to explain why I feel that way. I don't need to make it all flowery and pretty and worry about not offending someone if I don't say it the "correct" way. Because, let's face it....that's not really me.

So.....what's been going on here? Sheesh, where do I begin?

School's out, as of this past Thursday. Let me tell you.....having a job that you like makes a hell of a difference in your mental state. I never realized how much I hated my former position until I started in my new job. Now, that's not to say that I love every single aspect of my job, because life ain't perfect, people. But, to work in a place with a support system, to feel as if you're an equal, contributing member of a faculty......let's just say that I'm going nowhere anytime soon. I can see myself retiring here, that's for sure.

As for the home front, well.....that's a different story. We've been dealt a major kick in the ass lately. About a month ago, my mother wasn't feeling too well-she was having pains on her right side, and went to the emergency room. The docs there thought that she might have a case of diverticulitis, so they decided to do a CAT scan to see what was up. They found that her colon was twisted on the right side, which was causing her the pain. But, it was what they also found that has changed everything.

They found a mass on her left ovary, and recommended seeing an oncologist.

Of course my mother, being a nurse herself, decided that she was going RIGHT AWAY to her regular gynie (who she sees yearly) to see what was up. He did an ultrasound, saw what was up, and concurred about seeing an oncologist. He ended up recommending someone on his floor, she got an appointment the next day (cancellation), and they scheduled a hysterectomy.

So, she went in for the surgery on May 29th. What they hadn't counted on was that the tumor was adhered to her bowel, pelvis and bladder, and that the entire area was inflamed. So, they biopsied as much as they could, and closed her up. We found out the next day that it was Stage III Ovarian Cancer. Considering my grandmother (my mom's mother) also died from ovarian cancer, we all took this pretty badly. The recommended course of treatment is that she gets chemo every three weeks (she had the first treatment as an inpatient, and her second is on Wednesday of this week), they'll redo the CAT scan to see if/how much the tumor has shrunk, and then, if all looks good, will reschedule the surgery and remove everything they need to.

To say that this was a blow to us is an understatement. My mother is a trooper though. She's feeling okay so far-mostly tired, but she started losing her hair last weekend, and decided on Thursday that she was going to shave it all off, rather than let it fall out gradually. Her doctors are optimistic about her chances of beating this, despite the diagnosis. It hasn't spread into the lymph nodes, which is good news. The recurrence rate isn't wonderful, though.....which worries me. But I know that she's in the best hands possible. And, in a really weird way, no amount of worrying is going to change the fact that my 57 year old mother has cancer. I just have to be there and support her and my dad as best as I can. Luckily I'm not working this summer, and we're not going away, so I can help out more.

So.....what do I decide to do in the wake of all this drama going on? Why, prepare for a fresh cycle, of course! Because I just can't seem to be able to have enough going on right now....let's add some infertility to the mix! Woot! What the FUCK am I thinking?

Well, I had a mini-freak out thinking that, what with injecting enough hormones to choke a woolly mammoth, I was next on the Big Casino list, so I emailed Dr. Pipsqueak with a shitload of questions (would I get cancer? should we cycle again? should I have the BRCA genetic tests?). She reassured me that (1). there is no proven correlation between reproductive cancer and fertility meds, (2). if my mom tested positive for the BRCA mutation, and I was tested, it would depend on my results (luckily, mom tested negative, so it wasn't passed on-woot!) and (3). there IS a corellation between INFERTILITY and ovarian cancer, so it would be to my benefit to get knocked up to lower my risk. In short, we need to cycle, and since I'm not getting younger, it needs to be soon.

Needless to say, we're updating our things with her office, to try to get in during the summer for a cycle, once the lab opens in mid-July. We were talking about cycling anyway, but now there is more of an urgency. Maybe I'm overthinking this whole thing, but I'm thinking that, if I can get knocked up and have a baby (or two, but at this point beggars can't be choosers!), and we know that we're done, I'll have a hysterectomy and hopefully be done with the whole potential cancer-y mess. That is, if it's a perfect world and everything works out. Which, in my case, never does.

So, I'm back in the IVF saddle, for the fifth time. Hey, do you think that they have a "frequent flyer" type of program for IF? Or a "buy four and get the fifth free"? Hell, I'd even take preferred parking, at this point. I guess that's just the old, crusty barren bitch in me, raring to get out.

It's good to be back, though. Hopefully there are still some of you out there, but if not, I'll just chat to myself and look like a crazy woman.......trust me, it won't be the first time.

Infertility, watch out.....I'm gonna kick you right in the cooter. Repeatedly.

Or, at least until a baby falls out of it.

The "All-Naturale" Approach

2009-02-16T21:10:00.003-05:00

Since I'm not cycling right now, it's a bit weird blogging....I mean, what is there to write about? I'm not hormonal or bloated (not counting the FAT that's accumulated around my middle again...sheesh), shooting up fertility meds or massaging the Strawberry Shortcake-bandaided-covered lumps of progesterone on my ass.

Oh, wait.....not yet, at least. That fun is coming soon enough

It makes life rather boring, in a sick, demented sort of way.

So, I've been going for weekly acupuncture for almost a year now, and this time around the acu has also prescribed me some Chinese herbs to "help" things along. She feels that it will balance my reproductive system and "prep" it for a new cycle, if I don't get pregnant first.

Seriously......the only thing that this has helped, at least so far, is in activating my colon. OMG....the GAS! And the POOP! And the GAS.....ugh.

Last month she put me on this 4-phase formula that didn't work. When I got AF last week, she decided, after going through my Chinese diagnosis (Blood Stasis and Kidney Yang deficiency) and Western dx (blocked tubes), I got an herbal mix that is supposed to "Resolve" my lower system. It's in capsule form that I have to take three times daily (three caps a day). Luckily it doesn't taste like ass, so it isn't too bad. Being the dorkus maximus that I am, I looked up the herbs and I figured that nothing in them will make me sprout another leg from my body, so I should be all right. The pamphlet that she gave me with the pills did specifically state that it was good for tubal occlusion and blood stasis, cysts, and endo, so I guess that I've got all bases covered.

Oh, God.....did I mention the GAS?!?! And the SMELL from the GAS!?!?! And the SHEER VOLUME OF SOUND it makes!?!? Urgh...it's like I've got a duck speaking out of my ass. Or a small rhino. Or the entire contents of the Amazon. It's scary how much gas I have. SERIOUSLY. I kid you NOT.

Oh, yeah-I'm also supposed to avoid "cold" foods, and red meat, so I guess that means no ice cream on my filet mignon. Oh, well. Actually, I'm afraid to eat, since everything that goes in my mouth smells like the Plague coming out. I'm afraid to look at the sheets, in case there's scorch marks. Or shart marks (c'mon, you've got to know what a "shart" is!? I'm SO not going there unless I have to!).

Really, though-there's a purpose to this, right? I mean, besides being a stinky thirtysomething who gets a panic attack thinking that there's noxious gas leaking out of her rectum which will kill upon contact?

Although, my butt could be considered a WMD.....or perhaps our new Adminstration can use it to find an alternative to our energy crisis......I could make millions! IVF for everyone! Yay!

Catharsis

2009-02-15T18:15:00.001-05:00

So.....it's been exactly a month since I've posted.

It's been a tough month.

First of all, thank you all so much for your kind words. The whole ordeal with Buddy left such a void within me. It hits me at certain times-if I'm snuggled up relaxing on the couch and realizing that there's no kitty to jump into my lap, or in the mornings. Some days are easier than others, but I'm still plodding along.

Sean and I hit a breaking point a few weeks ago with this whole IF bullshit. We've both felt a disconnect in our marriage for a while now, and difficulty communicating with one another, physically, emotionally and literally. We were arguing more and more about stupid things, and the whole sexing thing was......well, another shitty job to get through.

About two weeks ago we got into a HUGE argument-huge enough that I took my car keys and left the house, because I just couldn't deal with it anymore. It was probably one of the few times in my marriage that I seriously considered separation, because there was NO WAY that I could see the two of us staying together without killing one another. After about an hour I came home, and we both laid down the law-something had to change, or our marriage wouldn't survive.

It was a sobering thought. We talked, REALLY talked, for probably the first time since we started doing IF treatments-about the pressure put on ourselves in regards to having children, the disappointments, how hard it is. Until this point, Sean had never really expressed how he felt about what we've gone through, so I just assumed that he was either being naive or didn't really care as much as me, since it wasn't "his problem". I learned that night that he is hurting just as much as I am. He also never really talked about treatments, and how he felt about going ahead with another cycle. He wants to, but not at the expense of our marriage, which I can understand.

I don't think that, until that moment, I ever truly confided in him about what hell going into treatments is for me, and the toll the negative outcomes of our cycling has taken on me emotionally. He did suggest that perhaps we need to speak to a counselor about this, because it is a huge stress on our marriage, and maybe he's right. What I do know is that we can't go on the way we had been and make things work.

It was a catharsis of sorts, for both of us. We needed to get it all out on the table, so that we both know where we stand in all this.

So.....what's the deal?

We will cycle again, probably in the summertime.
I will get into the best shape physically and emotionally to help things along.
We are taking more time for us.
We are trying to come to terms with the fact that perhaps it will be just the two of us.

It's not easy, but we're taking it one day at a time. That's all we can do, right?

Goodbye, Handsome Boy

2009-01-16T22:26:00.010-05:00

On Wednesday, we had to make the hardest decision that we've yet to make in our marriage.

We had to let Buddy go.

It was agonizing to make-but realistically, we knew that it was the best choice, that we were being selfish if we didn't go through with it. Since Saturday, he had gone downhill-he was barely eating....all he wanted was water, and would barely drink any. He was also starting to have difficulty going up and down the stairs, and was so lethargic. He urinated on the bed several times (a few times in his sleep) in the middle of the night and didn't bother to clean himself afterward. Waking up at 3:30 on Wednesday morning to a soiled bed, and then trying to clean Buddy's paws with baby shampoo because he can't clean himself was the reality slap for us......we knew that it would only get worse for him from here on in. And, that wasn't fair to him-he deserved better than that from us.

Sean made the appointment for Thursday afternoon, and took him to our vet. Being that I just started my new job, we felt that there wasn't any way that I could take the time. I think that it was also easier for Sean this way-he could focus on Buddy and not on me losing control (which would have happened if I was there). Of course, I feel guilty as hell; as if I had abandoned him when he needed me the most. I was his mommy, and I wasn't there-it's something that I need to come to terms with, eventually. Leaving for work on Thursday knowing that he wouldn't be there when I came home was one of the hardest things I've had to do. I didn't want to let him go-I was trying to memorize how he felt, the texture of his fur, his eyes, his smell.

Sean said that when the vet examined him, he could feel the lumps throughout his abdomen, where the cancer had obviously spread through his colon. He reassured us that we were doing the right thing. He also commended us on how we went over and above what others would have done in the same situation.

Of course we did-he was our baby. We had to try to save his life.

We decided to have him cremated, in the end....I couldn't bear having him put in a communal grave and left alone. He will be with us, where he belongs.

Those who had the experience of being around him knew that he was just about the sweetest, most loving cat. He hated to be held for long amounts of time, but would constantly crawl into your lap and look up at you with his big green eyes. He loved his mousey "Marvin",chewing on the shower curtain liner (even though he knew it drove me crazy), trying to see if he could sneak into the bathroom and drink out of the toilet, and loved lying in your lap. He would wait for you either at the door or would be watching out at the window to see you pull into the driveway. He even loved his sister; and, although she kicked the crap out of him at times, he was the first to go up to her and clean her head with his tongue and lie next to her.

What I remember especially about Buddy is when we found out about our miscarriage, four years ago. There I was, sobbing in bed after the phone call from the RE, and he climbed up into my lap, touched me gently on the face with his paw, and looked up at me. His eyes looked right into my soul, telling me that everything was going to be alright. He had that way about him-he could actually communicate with you through his eyes. It was one of the things that we realized was missing in the past few days-that ability to "talk" to you with his eyes. At the end, there was a blankness there that was absolutely heartbreaking. We knew then that we had to do the best thing for him, even though it was the worst thing for us. He was at least with someone who loved him, in the end. He wasn't totally alone.

Goodbye, my handsome boy. You've left a void in my heart that nothing can replace right now. You were my baby-perhaps the only baby I'll ever live to have. I hope you can forgive us for trying to do the right thing, and that you're in Heaven, knowing no pain, and feeling free and happy.

These words written here will never begin to express how much I will always miss you, and how much you've affected my life. Thank you for loving us unconditionally, for the gift of your companionship. We love you and will never, ever forget you.

Hello? Is it Me You're Looking For?

2009-01-10T19:11:00.004-05:00

Anyone still out there? *knocking on monitor screen*

I'm still around, really. I've inadvertently taken a little "blogcation", although it wasn't my original intention. There's been so much going on here, and lots of changes have happened, and, really, since I'm not cycling at the moment I felt like all my posts had that "woe is me, I'm a bitter infertile bitch wah wah wah" type of repetition thing starting to happen, and seriously.....who wants to read that shit over and over again?

It was even starting to annoy me. So, there we go.

A basic update: We found out the end of October that the kitty chemo didn't work, so they offered the option of an oral chemo protocol. It had less of a chance of working and really didn't have a great life expetancy, so we had to make the decision to stop Buddy's treatments. They sent us home with prenisolone, gave us about a month. Buddy is still with us, but we've noticed the past week that he's started to noticeably slow down. He's also started things like going outside the litter box (the best was coming home on Thursday to find that he peed on our brand new comforter set, and he's pooped on the floor). So I really think that it's going to be sooner rather than later, which totally blows ass, but really, he's lasted two months longer than the doctors said he would, so at least we've had extra time with him. It still blows large monkey balls, though.

I also started a new teaching job, mid-year, in a MUCH better district (teaching middle school music AND drama-woot). I started this past Monday, LOVE IT, and am exhausted with trying to get organized and used to the new routine, which is totally different than elementary school music. Everyone is really nice and have been so welcoming, which is foreign to me, given that I came from a school where almost nobody talked to me my first year there. Let's just say that I had really no hesitation when the job was offered to me....

As for where I'm at with cycling.....who the hell knows. Sean seems to be under the delusion that I'll get pregnant on my own. However, since we all know that I am NOT the Blessed Mother, I have a sneaking suspicion that it won't work. I'm still doing acupuncture weekly and will start herbs, just for shits and giggles. Since I've changed jobs and health insurance carriers, I'm not sure how this will work, so I'm going to be totally optimistic and say that perhaps we'll cycle in the summer, if I can convince Sean that we won't get busted by the insurance company. Watch what happens, though-because I've just started a new job and I'm no longer tenured, I'll be one of "those people" and get knocked up on my own, after downing two bottles of vino, a joint and some processed food, and after only ONE NIGHT of the sexing, post-ovulation. Why? Because that's just my damn luck, that's why.

Ah, just the delusion of that makes me giggle.

So, my New Year's resolution is to blog more, because if I don't, I've found that I'm a total bitch to everyone around me. This little blog has kept me sane; or, at least as sane as I can be. To that end, I'm now finishing my post on our brandy-new iMac, which is bitchin'! We picked it up yesterday from the lovely Fed Ex people, and it was idiot-proof to set up, which is partly the reason why we got it.....so Sean doesn't end up downloading mega-viruses and deleting half the hard drive, which is what he did to the PC we had ("but, babe....I thought that you were SUPPOSED to click on the flashing window!"). I totally love this thing, and if I weren't already married I'd take out a Domestic Partnership license for this mofo. Because, I'm weird like that.

Seriously though.....let the snarkiness begin

Raining and Pouring

2008-10-13T10:50:00.002-04:00

I'm really starting to think that either I'm cursed, or the universe is laughing hysterically at the fucked-up-ness which has been my life as of late.

But, I'm not laughing. Really.

We things were starting to settle down-got my repeat mammo (nothing suspicious, and I get to go back in 6 months for an update-yay!), I actually have a prospect of a new job in a great, blue-ribbon district (although I'd be adding a commute, I'd be a fool not to take the job if it's offered to me), I'm doing another show (Beauty and the Beast), we're gearing up for another cycle, probably within the next few months. We thought that finally things were stabilizing.

But something wasn't right. And it wasn't with me, or with Sean, but with Buddy.

We noticed, after we returned home from vacation in July, that he was going through his pee-antics again. We actually had to rip out the carpet in the house because it was just out of control (which really wasn't a bad thing, now that I'm looking at the finished floor), but we also noticed that he was vomiting more frequently. He also looked as if he'd lost a bit of weight, so off we went to our regular vet, where it turned out that he actually lost two pounds. He did a slew of bloodwork, found nothing, so we thought perhaps he had some bug. But, to me, something wasn't right.

About three weeks ago, Buddy started having diarrhea-at first it was the typical kind, but then it quickly became watery and bloody. He was up and down constantly to the litter box, and looked even skinnier, so we went to the emergency clinic. They diagnosed him with colitis, gave us some antibiotics and told us to follow up with our vet. Our vet x-rayed him and found nothing, but he wasn't getting better, so he referred us here for additional testing. At this point, Buddy was listless and not eating, drinking water but just going from the litterbox to the bed, and whimpering, so two days after our vet visit we went to the animal hospital as an emergency. We were there for five hours (it turned out that he lost another two pounds-not good), but the staff was awesome. They did tons of tests on him (and had to keep him overnight) and found, though ultrasound, enlarged lymph nodes in his colon, which they took samples of and tested them.

And found out that he has lymphoma. Our options were: meet with an oncologist, take him home, where he'd pass on, or euthanasia. So, we met with the oncologist, but we had the feeling that we were going to hear that we should put him down.

Needless to say, we were both a mess. Couldn't eat, didn't sleep, cried constantly. He's our baby-we got him three months after we were married, so he's our first, and so sweet. We weren't sure that we could make the decision to euthanize him, but we didn't want him to suffer.

The oncologist we met with was wonderful. She examined Buddy (who put on a little show for her, flirting and being cute....the most active he'd been in two weeks), and recommended a 25 week course of chemotherapy for him. Although lymphoma insn't "curable" like other cancers are, it seems to be the easiest type of cancer to treat in cats, and they respond pretty well to the therapy. The doc gave us a 50-75% remission rate, and said that she felt that if he responded to treatment we could have up to another two years with him. She said that we don't have to make a decision that day, and she'd send us home with some prednisone, but we had to make a decision within a week of starting the pills. She left us alone, and we talked about it. We had to give him a chance, especially since he seemed more alert that day than he'd been in weeks.

Ultimately, we weren't ready to let him go. Perhaps that's selfish, but there it is. We had to give him the chance to fight it, to live. So, we started the chemo that day.

The doctor recommended four weeks of treatment to start, and an ultrasound on the 5th week, which will check the lymph nodes in the colon. If the nodes are shrinking, then the treatment is working and he's going into remission. If not.....well, then we have to discuss this and make decisions.

We're already seeing a difference in him. Luckily, cats seem to tolerate chemo much better than humans-they don't lose their hair (most often, just their whiskers, which grow back after chemo is done), or suffer from sores. We've noticed that he's a little tired and out of it after a treatment (all injectible, btw-the last week is an IV infusion, but he's usually done within 30 minutes), and not as hungry, but he's doing really well. He's back to his old tricks, and his appetite has rebounded (helped by the prednisone and an appetite stimulant) to where he's eating a 3oz can within 24 hours. The only problem we've seen is that, although the diarrhea has stopped, he seems constipated (poor guy), so I called the hospital and they recommended adding pumpkin to his food to help things along. When we went for his treatment yesterday we mentioned it to the doc. He examined Buddy and let us know that his intestines seem okay, what's in there is soft and nothing is blocked. He said that the straining he's doing is due to the lymph node enlargment, but to continue the pumpkin until he starts to go normally. He let us know that because he basically didn't eat for two weeks it's more than likely that he's absorbing most of the food and not producing enough waste for him to go yet, but he will.

And how are we? I feel better making the decision to go through with it (although people I know have told me that we're crazy to do this)-it's not as outrageously expensive as we thought (less than $100 a treatment), and if we have to give up going out to dinner and spending money on fripperies for a while, it's worth it to have this cute kitty, who is curled up next to me as I type, around for a few more years. It's a committment on our part, with giving him meds at home (which is a joy, let me tell you) and taking him to appointments every week, but I look at it this way. If people make a committment to have an animal share their home and become part of their family, then you have to follow through with that responsibility-whether it's cleaning up poop or vomit, or take care of a sick animal. You can't have all the good and none of the bad. That's not to say that people who make the decision to put their animals down are not good people-everyone's decision to do that is a personal one, and I can't judge someone for that. We made the best decision for us right now, and we're hoping for the best.

It was also interesting to note that he started treatment the day of the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, who is the patron saint of animals. Hopefully that's a sign that we made the right choice, and that he will go into remission.

Remember

2008-09-11T23:30:00.002-04:00

In all of my various postings, I've never written about September 11th.

I think that, for a lot of people who lived near the sites of the terrorist attacks, it isn't easy to talk about. It's hard to explain to someone who lived hundreds of miles away what it felt like, the chaos, the fear. And, to be honest, in some ways I also don't have that direct experience, compared to many who lived in Lower Manhattan (like Shelli, or my uncle and his friends), or some friends of mine who were actually in the Towers at the time of the attacks, and managed to escape-they had a first-hand experience that I never, ever want to have to go through.

I had just started teaching (I was in my second week of school), trying to get acclimated with the whole school routine for the first time. Sean, who was celebrating his 30th birthday that day, had started a freelance gig working at NYC Fashion Week, and had already left for Manhattan to get to a call on time. We had made plans for dinner that night, and went our seperate ways.

It was in the morning, I was on my prep time, and I was sitting at my desk when the principal came in and asked to see me outside in the hallway. She then told me and the art teacher that two planes had crashed into the WTC, and into the Pentagon, that it was a terrorist attack, and that we needed to go into a lockdown situation. I actually didn't believe her at first; in fact, I thought that it was a drill. Then I suddenly realized that Sean was in Manhattan, and told my principal that he was there. She immediately said to me, "Go home....now." I remember going upstairs to the Teacher's Lounge and seeing a television on, with a group of people huddled around it; this is how I saw the first tower fall-through a grainy transmission on an old TV set. Then the phone calls started-from my parents, my brother-in-law, my mother-in-law...."Have you heard? Where's Sean? Has he called yet?" Of course, I had NO IDEA. And I was started to panic.

We were three weeks from celebrating our first wedding anniversary.

Since the cell phone reception was sketchy due to overloaded lines and connection problems, it was difficult getting through to anyone in the Tri-State area. My uncle lived (and still does) about 12 blocks from the area, my aunt worked in the Chrysler Building, I had friends who worked in both Towers........and we had no clue if they were were okay, or if there were going to be more attacks in Manhattan.

I went home, and turned on the news. I saw the second tower fall. And, I waited.

The phone rings. Different voices, different people calling. Have you heard? Can you believe it? Do you know if they're okay?

I have no answers for anyone. I can't stop watching the images on the screen; the dust clouds, the destruction, the fear in people's faces. I can't move from the couch.

It's completely silent outside. No cars driving down the street. No kids playing outside.

No sounds of planes in the sky, which is the norm here, being that we live less than 10 miles from Newark Airport. And that unnerved me most of all, that day, and in the days afterward-lying in bed and not hearing that drone of airplanes overhead. Of hearing nothing and wondering if more was coming.

I remember, distinctly, the sound of helicopters overhead. I ran outside and stood on my front steps, along with my neighbors, to see military helicopters swooping overhead, rushing to guard the refineries that are a few miles away......refineries that supply gasoline to the airport. And, I remember seeing the fear in people's faces, the fear that I'm sure was mirrored in my own face.

The phone rings again. It's 3pm. It's Sean, finally; calling from a payphone in a Midtown bar. He's okay, thank God. He's not sure if he can get home, since there's no public transportation allowed in or out of Manhattan. The company he's working for are planning to put them up in hotels, but he's going to try to get out if they open the trains up.

I don't want to stay in the house alone. What if there's more coming? But, what can I do? I have no choice.

And so....I wait.

Hours pass. The television is still on. More phone calls-uncle is okay, aunt is home and okay. So and so got out of the Towers; another friend, luckily, didn't have to go to the complex that day because her meeting was rescheduled at the last minute.

I can't eat or sleep. My stomach is in knots. Will we have to go to work tomorrow? Yes-the district decided that schools should remain open, to give the kids a sense of normalcy. Yeah, right. Nothing will ever be normal again.

Finally the door opens. He's home-scared, dirty, and sweaty after a three hour wait at Penn Station. He managed to get the first train out of Manhattan. We hug. We cry. We give thanks that he's home and okay.

That's what I remember. Like I said, compared to many who witnessed the horror first-hand, it's fluff and trite. But still, it's something that I'll never, ever, forget.

May we always remember.

Squash and Repeat

2008-09-10T23:29:00.002-04:00

Well, I guess I spoke too soon...

I got a letter in the mail about my boob-squashing results. Apparently, they found something "inconclusive" about my right breast, and I now need to go for a repeat mammo and ultrasound.

Yeah. You've read that right. Did I freak out? Slightly, considering that my grandmother had both breast and ovarian cancers (which she eventually passed away from, at age 61). I called the gyno's office and spoke to them about what the report said, and they told me that I shouldn't worry too much (yeah....riiight), because repeat mammograms happen A LOT when you get your baseline. It also seems that I have "dense breast tissue" (shit, I could've told them that one-my cans are huge and always have been, even when I was a skinny 110 lbs in college), which makes "inconclusive" results more common. Luckily, I'm pretty fanatical about doing self-exams, so I know that I haven't felt a lump anywhere. But, that letter was like a kick in the gut.

Of course, the first thing I thought of was the shitload of fertility meds I've taken over the years. The RE's all have said that there's no correlation between taking IVF meds and breast cancer; but, let's be honest here-there's no way that they definitely know one way or the other. Did I open myself to a risk that I shouldn't have? Perhaps. And, the sad thing is, I was getting this mammo not only for my regular gyno, but also for Dr. Pipsqueak as part of my IVF checklist for another cycle. Now there's a possibility (a small one, but one nonetheless) that I might never do this cycle.

So, I have make my appointment to go back next week, once I get my period (because there is NO WAY I'll go near that thing with sore PMS boobies). Of course, there is that slight possibility that I won't get my period, but.....well, we won't hold our breath on that one.

There's the story......not the funny one I started writing (which is still in my drafts). Once the dust settles, and I find this shit funny and not scary, I'll post it.

Until then, make sure that you don't neglect your tits, girls. There's my public service announcement of the day.

No Guarantees

2008-08-29T11:52:00.005-04:00

I'm a bit sad today, since this weekend marks the end of the summer, and the end of my summer vacation. Back to the grind, starting on Tuesday (with the kids coming in on Wednesday).

While I'm usually more than ready at this point to go back to work, I'm finding that this year, for the first time, I've felt that the time off was too short, and I don't feel at ALL ready to start. I half-heartily went to my schools, set up my spaces, but it was a struggle. I don't want to go back and begin all the mess and politics and bullshit. But, I have to.

I also, stupidly, think every June that perhaps, just perhaps, I'll be pregnant by the time school starts in September. And, of course it doesn't happen, so I go back for faculty meetings with a flat belly and watch the other teachers congratulating someone else on their pregnancy or welcoming someone back from maternity leave. And then I feel like shit because I'm jealous and sad and then I feel even worse because the pg/new moms don't deserve me giving them the stink-eye. And then the vicious circle keeps going around and around....

I think that also, the beginning of every school year also brings to light the fact that I'm going to be a year older; and, when going through infertility, every year that you're not pregnant and every year that you're getting closer and closer to the dreaded 40 is another year further away from the dream of your own child. Now, I do realize that many women my age (and older) have successful pregnancies and births, but who knows if I'll be one of them. There's no guarantee. Sadly, infertility teaches us that nothing in our reproductive life is a "given"-all those assumptions of "fall in love, get married, have babies" just doesn't happen in our case.....at least, not easily. And, for some of us, it doesn't happen at all. And it scares the shit out of me that I might be that person-the one who never has that baby.

Of course, the fact that we're trying to get our ducks in a row for possibly another cycle doesn't help the floundering feelings that I'm having right now. Is this the right thing to do? Should we, or should we throw in the towel altogether? In a stupid, almost naive way, I'm not ready to give up yet. I always have the glimmer of that old crusty bitch Hope in the back of my head saying, "Weeeelllll, perhaps if you do just one more cycle....". But, am I torturing myself, or should I trust that voice? Is it intuition, or just delusion speaking?

And, the worst thing of this whole thing is that there are no answers. There's nobody that can definitively tell you yes, or no. I hate that the most about infertility-it's so indecisive, so ambiguous. I like answers, I like dealing with the concrete, not the abstract, which is odd given I make my living in the performing arts. However, infertility's not like researching a character for a play or delving into a solo in a major oratorio. It has a life of its own, very similar to a little child-unpredictable, and unable to understand things that are too complex.

So, what to do? Right now, it's the waiting game. We think that we will probably cycle again, but we need to be prepared; or, at least as prepared as we can considering the situation. Will it suck? Totally. Am I ready? Well, as ready as I can be. We just have to dive in again, instead of just sticking in a toe, then pulling back.

And, that's that.

Our next installment will be all about that lovely mid-thirties rite of passage that we women ALL look forward to......Our First Mammogram. Believe me, it's full of insanity that only I could have the joy to experience. Seriously.

Infertilivacay

2008-08-06T16:18:00.002-04:00

Yeah, yeah, I know that I did say that I would blog more. I even make up posts in my head while driving, putting together dinner, during my acupuncture appointments. But, somehow, they never make the connection from my overcrowded brain to the keyboard. And, it's been bothering me as to why. Is it because I've got writer's block? Or does that signal the beginning of the end of this blog? Perhaps I'm all blogged out?

Nah. I've figured it out-it's because I'm a lazy bitch, that's why. I've taken a vacation from my infertility; or, at least, as much of a vacation as one can take away from a disease, I suppose.

I realized that this is the first year since we've begun riding the ART roller coaster that we haven't cycled in the summer in one way or another-either a fresh or frozen cycle. This is the first summer I haven't either been sticking needles in my body or have had to stick things in my girly bits in 40 months. That's over three years, people. Wow. It's really mind-blowing when you think about it.

Quite frankly, I've enjoyed my time away from the RE and the loss of privacy of my nether regions. I did "cheat" once, however,to update some bloodwork and do an OGTT (oral glucose tolerance test) to see what the deal is about those "PCOS ovaries" the RE found (no results as of yet, but we're also dealing with that stupid-ass IVF Coordinator); but, otherwise, it's been nice not being chained to the phone, my injection kit, or having to reschedule plans around an operating theater or an ultrasound wand. I like not having a sharps container next to the coffee maker, or my dining room table becoming a back-door pharmacy, full of fertility paraphernelia. I especially like that I can enjoy a cup of coffee ("half-caff", of course) in the morning without worrying that it will affect my egg quality. I can make love with my husband and not feel uncomfortable due to swollen ovaries (although we stupidly are still having Baby Making Sex), or not be able to at all because we're scared shitless of doing anything wrong during the 2WW.

I've especially enjoyed not having to hear the post-cycle BFN phone call, and subsequent follow-up appointment. That's been my favorite......but don't tell anyone.

However, all good things must come to an end, and we're contemplating going through with IVF#5. It's a lot like being a kid (or teacher!) during summer vacation-even though it's great not having to be in school, September is sneaking up and tapping us on the shoulder, reminding us that we will soon be back to the routine. We've had some interesting developments in our household as to exactly how we'll proceed with it (it's a little bit of a touchy ethical-type of subject to write here, so if you're REALLY interested as to the dilemma, email me and I'll explain it in detail-perhaps one of you out there might give me a different perspective, and I'll certainly welcome that). I've missed blogging, and I feel badly that I've not been commenting (although I have been catching up on reading posts), so forgive me. I will try my hardest to do better (that is, if anyone's still out there in the blogosphere reading this).

The only things that sucks about my Infertilivacay is that I don't have any outward physical signs of my time away from IF-no "tan lines", sand in my hair, that cool "beachy" smell your towel gets from the mix of salt air and sunscreen, with exception of the 15lbs or so that I've lost. Nope, the signs are all on the inside-I'm not stressed out, not worried, no headaches, no marital tension, no depression and anxiety. I've still been doing weekly acu appointments, and I can count on one hand the amount of headaches I've had (and the ones I've had are nowhere nearly as bad as they were). I'm not feeling the pressure to succeed that I once felt. Sure, I want a baby, and I want the whole she-bang-pregnancy, birth and all of it. But, I'm not beating myself up over it as much anymore. I'm not feeling the bitterness at seeing a newborn, and wondering if this will happen for me. I'm not as angry as I was at God, the fates, or whatever else is out there.

I think that I've come to that elusive place called "acceptance". It's not that we're giving up TTC, not by a long shot. But, I have decided that I refuse to let it rule over me and define what my life should be. I can't change the past, and I can't predict the future (oh, but I do wish I could, though-at least, in this case!), but I CAN control my present. And, I'm tired of letting infertility "tell" me that I can't meet with friends, go on vacation, or that I have to work a second job I wasn't happy in simply because of the "possibility" of a pregnancy and birth of a child. I've lived that way for over three years, and I've cheated myself out of so many experiences and opportunities. But, no more.

I've found out that you can take a break, and still be okay. Does this mean that perhaps I'll be okay if we decide to be child-free? I'm not quite sure. But, I do feel that, somehow, whatever ends up happening, it will all be okay.

The Great Church Job Firing

2008-07-11T17:58:00.002-04:00

Well, now that we've thoroughly documented the M drama, let's move on to #2, shall we?

Yep, the Great Church Job Drama.

Well, as I've previously posted, there was a BIG upheaval at church last year. Our pastor (who was there when I was hired 11 years ago) received a job promotion-that of Vicar-General of the Archdiocese (for those of you who aren't Catholic, a VG is like the second in command to the Archbishop in whatever diocese you're in-read more about it here if you're interested) back in February of last year, and his replacement in our parish just happened to be the former Vicar-General. It became apparent that this guy was a total tool job-he rushed through the Mass, started talking more about money than faith, was less personable, and sent out a "survey" to the parishioners to see what needed to be changed. Now, the survey came back with the music ministry having a 86% approval rating from the parish, and, of course, there were a few negative comments listed (as there always will be in situations like these). Monsignor decided to listen to these negative comments and began instituting changes to the music ministry. He wanted the service quicker, music "simplified" (ie. more cheesy hymns and more "modern" things performed), and wanted the music director (my friend A) to "streamline" the program. Well, A is not a "streamline" kind of guy. He doesn't feel that the Mass has to be 45 minutes or less, that music is an integral part of the worship, used to enhance and bring home the message that the presider is trying to send to the congregation. He used to plan the music a year in advance, using the lectionary and making sure that the music corresponded to the readings (something not a lot of directors do, trust me), or with whatever Sunday was being celebrated. We used to get SO many responses from parishoners about how beautiful the music was, how it helped them to pray, that it gave them the courage to sing from the pews-hell, we even had a Jewish woman who would come to the choir mass every Sunday just to hear the music.

Well, A could only take so much, and back in October he gave his notice, with his last day being the week before Thanksgiving. He could see the writing on the wall, and he knew that if he stayed he probably wouldn't have his contract renewed in June. Some people left with him, but most of us stayed, to try to make a go of it. The assistant was named as Interim director, but it quickly became fairly obvious that this guy was in way over his head. He's also a "yes" man, so whatever Monsignor wanted, he started to get-starting with the cheesy hymns at Communion, and rushing through stuff. People stayed through Christmas, then started dropping off (Sean and G among them). We quickly went from almost 50 members to around 20.

Now, A is immensly talented-as both a musician and a conductor-and, realistically we knew that it would be hard FOR ANYONE to fill those shoes. But, you'd think that the Interim, who A hired (and who he worked with at the Archdiocese Cathedral), and who'd been with us for 8 years, would have AT LEAST payed attention, and would be competent. The only competency I saw was in his big organ pieces (pre-and postlude), but with anthems and hymns it sounded like he was throwing in an elbow on the keyboard. He also didn't rehearse on his own with the organ enough, because at our weekly rehearsals he would spend almost an hour going over the Sunday music, not for the choir's benefit, but so that he could play it on the organ (which he invariably couldn't and would then switch to the piano for the rest of the rehearsal). I can only describe his conducting skills as one who is slapping away a cloud of flies-there was no clear downbeat (or upbeat, for that matter), no cutoffs, no entrances. In other words, it was starting to look (and sound) like a hot, steaming pile of mess.

But, I didn't leave-I wanted to give him a fair chance-and, let's face it, A didn't have a job and I didn't want to part with the money. However, I wasn't sure how long musically whoring myself would last, because I felt myself getting sloppy and developing bad habits......and as a teacher, those things just wouldn't be acceptable. The Interim also covered up his inadequecy by lying about things (for example, if I questioned where the choir should cut off on a sound, he would start babbling about the "English" vs. "American" cutoff.......huh? WTF???). Of course, I would constantly question him, because he would say one thing, then do something totally different. And succeeded in confusing everyone, and pissing them off.

Now, why didn't anyone speak up (besides me), you wonder? Well, because, to be honest, Catholics aren't usually the type to speak out. We're usually guided by the parish and by the priests-it's not like the Episcopal or Lutheran faiths were there's a council made up of congregants and clergy. Even though a Catholic parish is supposed to be about the people, unfortunately there's a "sheep mentality"-just following the herd. And, this church wasn't about that-it wasn't a Mass Factory, where you got in, put your money in the bin, got Communion, and got out. But, it was slowly becoming that.

Well, at the end of the year it all came to a head. We were asked to sing a Mass celebrating a Cardinal's (who was the former Archbishop before he was elevated) 50th anniversary of his ordination, which was to be held at our parish. We had a month to rehearse, but of course the Interim didn't really prepare and subsequently, we were rushing at the last minute. The Interim, unbeknownst to the choir (with the exception of a select few-the other section leaders and others who kiss his butt), hired ringers-professional musicians-to sing the Mass. And, we didn't know until an hour before the Mass, when they all showed up for the warm-up and rehearsal.

People were pissed-I was pissed! Two of these ringers were in my section, and I was the section leader, and I had NO IDEA! People were coming up to me and questioning me, and I had nothing to say to them. So, after the Mass (which I cantored, btw), I spoke to the Interim privately and told him that people were upset over this (me included). I told him that I had no problem with ringers-I've even done it myself, but if he needed extra singers, then they should've come to a few rehearsals beforehand, not the day of. I told him that the choir volunteer their time every week for two hour rehearsals, and that it sent them the message that he didn't trust them or their abilities, and it just causes bad feelings, and we couldn't afford to lose people.

I guess he didn't like what I said, because two weeks later (a week after he was named full-time director) I was fired by Monsignor (with the director looking on), after singing two masses. After being there 11 years, being married there. Just like that.

Well, as you might guess, I didn't go quietly. I told both of them off in the sacristy-I called Monsignor ignorant and told him he was running the parish into the ground, and I called the director incompetent and sneaky. Then, I proceeded to send an email to the entire music ministry (two choirs) and told them EXACTLY what happened. There was NO WAY that these people were going to make it look like I walked away, or that it was my fault. I was going to call them out on the whole thing, and let them have to explain themselves.

Here's the email I sent (and I'm leaving in the names of the guilty to expose them for who they are):

Hello all:

This is just a note to let you all know that today, after the 12:30 Mass, unbeknownst to me, was my last day as OLS as cantor/section leader, after an 11 year tenure.

In other words, I've been fired (or, as I was told "we'd like today to be your last day"). Why, you ask? Well, in a nutshell, I was told by Msgr Emery (NOT Glenn, surprisingly, since he WAS my superior, but I suppose one must let someone else do one's dirty work) that I wasn't part of what the parish needs in order to make "positive" changes to the music ministry. When I pressed as to EXACTLY why, since I felt that in my time there I have gone above and beyond what was in my job description as a section leader and cantor, I was told that it was because I'm not a "team player", not because of my work ethic. In plain English, because I refused to let our "esteemed" new director get away with incompetence, I was asked to leave. (I was also told that, given my non-salaried status, the parish needs no cause to let people go, so BEWARE anyone who gets paid-you might be next!!)

Now, I'm going to relay EXACTLY what I said to both of them. I told them that, although according to the parish survey (which was unfair to begin with) there was an 80+% approval rating for Allen and the music ministry, he decided to listen to a minority of parishioners who wanted changes. Although, as pastor he has the right (although an uneducated "right", but I digress) to make whatever changes he felt necessary, the PASTOR is representive of the PEOPLE of his parish, and ideally if the parish was happy, it seemed to be a case of "if it isn't broken, why fix it". I also stated that, in the many times that Sean has been out sitting in the congregation since he left the choir, almost NOBODY sings. Of course, Msgr disagreed, so I asked him if HE was sitting out there every week to hear it (of course not!!)-he said, of course, that he is going by the "feedback" of whoever has his ear (probably the same "people" that wrote negative comments on the survey....although now I'm beginning to wonder if there are any actual "people" to begin with and it's simply a case of autocracy at work). I also told him that by making changes for the sake of change has UNDONE 11 YEARS of work that both Msgr. Doran and Allen Artz worked so very hard to achieve. Of course I was told that it was "my opinion", but many of you have expressed the same concerns. Look at the travesty of the Carol Sing dress rehearsal, when this man had THE NERVE to try to give us a "pep talk" that only resulted in insulting people and alienating the Canticum Novum singers. Haven't you noticed the slow slipping in of the Gather Hymns at Communion every Sunday? Remember him saying to the choirs back in December that these changes were going to happen "only at the 9:30 Mass" (which was ludicrous to begin with)-but that THE 11 AM CHOIR MASS WOULD NOT BE AFFECTED by the changes. That didn't last, did it? The writing was on the wall well before Allen's resignation-we, in trying to be charitable and to give someone the benefit of the doubt, let this happen to the parish. And, this is coming from a man who, according to Msgr. Doran, "chose" OLS because of the music and liturgy? Why, so he can rip it all apart? He very clearly cares NOTHING about the music OR the liturgy.

As for Glenn (who was actually "hired" much earlier than he wants you to believe, and I know that for a FACT since he told someone that directly back after Christmas-another case of subterfuge, perhaps?): I told him that if I was being fired simply because I challenged him, then it was extremely unfair. Since Glenn has taken over as Interim, there has only been communication between him and select section leaders and cantors, and I was apparently not "privileged" to be amongst them. Let's take June 1st travesty as an example. How many people knew ahead of time that there were "ringers" coming in to sing the Cardinal's Mass? Not many, I'm sure. I can say that I, as the soprano section leader, WAS NEVER INFORMED. Why should I? There were only two of them in my section! I was as surprised and upset as others (I know that a few of you spoke to me about it), and I spoke to Glenn about it after the Mass, when I told him that, although I had no problem with ringers, I DID have a problem bringing them in AN HOUR before the Mass, when there are people who VOLUNTARILY give up their time every week to come to rehearsal. Why not have the ringers come to the last rehearsals? I felt, (and yes, it's MY opinion, however since other people voiced it I guess I'm not the crazy one) that bringing in ringers is demoralizing and insulting to people who, again, VOLUNTEER THEIR TIME EVERY THURSDAY NIGHT to sit through rehearsals. Quite frankly, it's not a good way to build morale in a group that is in desperate need of it, considering everything that's happened this year. I was told that it was okay because "they're musicians". I guess that was my final nail in the coffin-because I, not only as an employee, but AS A FELLOW PARISHIONER, dared to question, and dared to voice, yet again, what others were saying. I also told Glenn that even when Allen was director there were times that I didn't agree with things, yet EVEN THEN I voiced what I felt. And, although what I said didn't necessarily influence his decisions, Allen never shot me down or treated me as if what I said was inconsequential or invalid, which Glenn did not only to me, but to others (unless they were the select few). If that is a by-product of his insecurity as a musician, then so be it. I also said that he does not know how to effectively communicate (which is obvious since I was kept in the dark about things), assumes that OLS choir is a paid group in that he blows through music and refuses to teach parts (since there are quite a few non-readers in the choir) and assumes that choir members can just go home and plunk parts out on the piano. THAT is why people have left, and why people will continue to leave-because it's clearly a step back. And, once you've had the best, it's awfully hard to go back.

Basically, what I have said has fallen onto deaf ears, since I was told that it was my opinion. I was also told by Glenn that he, as a paid singer for 8 years didn't agree with Allen at times, but didn't say anything as it wasn't his place. I guess that's because he was too busy talking during rehearsals to notice (which is probably why his music was never marked either when we asked questions). But Glenn, is that true of JUST ME, or do you allow the other section leaders to have input? Or, do you take into consideration only CERTAIN people's input (and we can list them here, for we ALL know who those people are)? Not very fair of you, is it?

We have all known since Emery's tenure that there was a possibility of this happening-a "dumbing down" of the music program at Sorrows. Now, it's a reality. Allen, as an accomplished musician, teacher and director could ONLY TAKE SO MUCH of the watering down of the music, so he left (regardless of whether or not you agree with how it was done, many of you DON'T KNOW what went on behind the scenes to lead up to his resignation, so it wasn't a decision that was made spontaneously). And now, with Glenn being hired full-time, Emery has exactly what he wants-a yes-man who will water it down to not only make the boss happy but to make it easier for himself (which we've also seen slowly happening-pulling out music that we could do in our sleep for totally new music nobody's seen before that we're supposed to "wing"). A music director who cannot effectively get what he wants from his choir, because he has NO IDEA how to bring it out in them-he won't (or can't) teach parts, his conducting skills are subpar, his playing (with the exception of his prelude and postlude) is unrehearsed. How many rehearsals did we have to go through a piece over and over again not for OUR benefit, but simply because Glenn couldn't play it due to not rehearsing it enough with the organ? And, how many excuses did we have to hear as to WHY he didn't, or couldn't rehearse it? You know, for someone who is getting paid the salary that Glenn is being paid, it's HIS JOB to know that music, just as it is the paid singers job to have notes learned for a piece once it's been introduced. And, it's obvious that the parish isn't getting their money's worth with Glenn.

How about how he's treated the children's choir? I'm sorry, but as AN EDUCATOR, I would never talk to children as he has done. Yes, they were unruly at times, but a lot of it was due to Glenn and how he spoke down to them, and treated them. Going down from 50+ children to 19 at the last mass they sang with us is proof enough of that, regardless of the stunt he pulled about making those two girls get up and apologize to the Parish Choir. Way to go, Glenn-what a good way to build self-esteem........by embarrassing children.

It saddens me that, after 11 years at Sorrows, it has to come to this. At one time, I really felt as if Sorrows was my "second home" Sean and I were married at OLS, and felt as if we were in a community of people who were caring and compassionate, but that has, sadly, gone off into the horizon. The reason that I'm writing this to you is that I don't want anyone to either hear untruths or come back in September and think that I resigned VOLUNTARILY in any way. I don't want Emery or Glenn to mislead anyone into thinking that it was my decision to leave, since we already saw that Glenn can do that (i.e.. assuming that George resigned and hiring another cantor BEFORE even speaking to George about it). I'm NOT going by my own choice. Of course, I will no longer be calling Sorrows "my" parish. I can't call a place "mine" when they basically chew you up, use you, abuse you, then spit you out. I got a double slap in the face - as an employee, being fired is bad enough, but, as a parishioner, being told that your services are no longer needed is like saying that Sean and I are no longer welcome in the parish. And this is coming from a CHURCH, which is supposed to be a "faithful" and "charitable" place to worship? Then again, there has been no worship in that beautiful building since Msgr. Doran left last February. It's just been a case of "get in, get out, get it done quickly and get the collection in". We've all felt it. Some of you have even said it privately. I was just the one who vocalized it, openly. And I got punished for it.

Whether or not you decide to stay at Sorrows is, of course, your choice. But, know that there will probably be more changes in the horizon, and they more than likely won't be good ones, given Emery's track record. If you can deal with it, and still feel as if you're still worshipping (since isn't that why there is music at Mass? To enhance and supplement worship?), then I give you a lot of credit. I wish you all of the best that life has to offer you, and those of you who want stay in touch with Sean and I, will hopefully do so. But, I can no longer be a parishioner in a place that was once unique and has now become just like every other parish. As much as Emery likes to say that he is celebrating "diversity", what he's doing is conforming to mediocrity by taking away the richness of the music, which allowed me to worship in a way that I hadn't felt in years, and which was also what kept me there for as long as I did. Whether that means that I find another Catholic parish that will fill that need, or make my way to a faith that will be truly "of and for the people" is my own journey to begin.

Please pass this on to anyone of importance that I may have missed in this email.

Thank you,

Am I upset? Sure-for a long time, this was my second home. I loved singing there. I loved the sense of community I felt there, not to mention the quality of music we did there (which is NOT the norm in most churches). But, really, it hasn't been the same there for a long time, and it created stress in my life when I didn't need it. It, quite simply, wasn't worth the money. Sure, I can always get another singing job, but I think I'll take a nice loooong break first. As for where to go to church.....well, that's a bit harder to delve into. I think that my expectations of the Catholic Church are too high, but I'm not sure switching faiths is the answer either. I guess I'll have to slowly get my feet wet and go to other parishes and see what calls to me.

Showdown

2008-07-09T10:10:00.003-04:00

Okay, so here's the down-low on what happened with M.....

Just a recap: M is (or was, I suppose) my best friend growing up. I've known her forever, and we were each other's MOH in our weddings, I'm her daughter's godmother, blah blah blah. You can read some backstory here, here, here, here and here. Oh, yeah, I forgot about this one.

So, to summarize, she's a bit of a Bridezilla. It's a second wedding (although her fiance's first), and they're inviting almost 300 people to the wedding, and doing it like it's the first time all over again. Which is okay (and not for me to judge, btw), but it's almost as if she's trying to forget that she already did the same thing ten years ago, albeit it with a shitheel.

Well, as MOH, my responsibility (according to that damn bridal etiquette) was to plan and host the bridal shower (that yes, she was still having, even though they both live together and have what they need). I was planning the shower with M's mother. The only thing that M wanted (or at least, what I was told) was to have the shower close to her home, so that carting gifts and such wouldn't be a pain in the butt, which I thought was fine. So, I picked a restaurant that was close (and I happened to know that she liked, since we'd eaten there numerous times), got a guest list from her mother (since the shower was supposed to be a suprise), who got it from Sexy J, and, with her mother's approval, put down the $200 deposit back in March.

Well, at the beginning of last month, I happened to call M's mother because I had a question about the invitiations (I was trying to do the invites myself to save some $$, plus I like to be a little creative), and I find out from her mother that there were going to be 20 extra people invited. Which the restaurant couldn't hold. Now, at the beginning, her mother and I went through the guest list we received and I was told who was invited and who wasn't (plus, Sexy J told me that anyone with the last names "Blah" and "Blee" should be invited). Her mother told me that it was only for family, and close friends, but NOT work people. Her mother also told me that it was a second shower, so it shouldn't be bit. Needless to say, this threw me for a loop.

So, she asked me if the restaurant would hold that many people, and of course I told her no. So, she said that M mentioned another place (which is MAJORLY expensive), and asked me if I could get my money back from the first place. Of course I was really pissed off, and I felt like I wasn't getting the full story, so I called Sexy J. I then get a SECOND story. He told me that M's mother let it slip where the shower was after M added the extra people to the guest list, and M said that she didn't want it there, she wanted it at the other place. So I told him that, as a SUPRISE SHOWER, she doesn't really get to choose where the shower is. He then said that he doesn't want to get involved, it's none of his business, blah blah blah. Then, getting pissed off, I called M.

She tells me the same story her mother does, but then I told her what her fiance said, and of course she changed her tune. She said that she didn't want the shower at the first place because it doesn't have parking (there are three parking lots within walking distance), and if they HAD VALET SERVICES, then it would be okay. Well, they didn't have valet, and I didn't think that parking was that big of a deal to say that we shouldn't have a shower there. I pointed out that the deposit was already put down (with her mother's okay) and it would've been nice to know that earlier. So, this was going back and forth for about three days-in the meantime, I called the restaurant about the refund AND called the other place-and then on Saturday, her mother called and asked about the deposit. I told her that the restaurant told me it was non-refundable, and she said that we would have it there, then-case closed. So, she calls M and tells her that.

M told her mother that if her bridal shower was to be there, she didn't want one at all. She'd do something on her own. Her mother called me back and told me that, and I lost it.

I told her mother that I had had it, I didn't want anything to do with the shower, or the wedding at that point. Then I called M and left a message on her voicemail, calling her a selfish, spoiled bitch and that she was lucky she was getting a second shower AT ALL, and that people were trying to do something nice for her and she was shitting all over it. I said I was through.

It was two years coming. I was at the end of my rope.

So, she called me back and we argued for about an hour. She told me that I didn't have to be in charge of the whole thing, and that "everyone else thinks you're running the show" and that I wasn't involving anyone (which wasn't true-her mother and I were planning the space, and everyone else was doing other things-how can people who don't live local to her know of any LOCAL PLACES). She kept going on and on about how people had to pay for parking, and that parking is hard to get sometimes, yet she kept asking about valet parking (although I did point out to her that it was a bit hypocritical to bitch about paying for parking in a public lot yet expecting people to pay out for valet). She said that OF COURSE she wanted me to be in her wedding, OF COURSE she wanted me to be her MOH, but OF COURSE she wanted what she wanted-it's her day, after all. So, she gave me the weekend to think it over, since she said that she didn't want me to make a decision based on being upset and angry.

So, I thought about it, and I felt upset, sure. I felt shit on, and I felt like I was being played (which I told her) and manipulated. But, I was wondering to myself if I overreacted, and lost control when I should have kept my head. Of course, she's my friend, and when friends argue, we say things in anger we don't always totally mean. So I was prepared to concede-NOT to the shower, but to say that you're my friend, it's your day........and I want to be a part of it.

Well, on Monday I went to her house, and we talked. She told me that she made some decisions:

1. She put Sexy J's sister in the wedding. She originally was in the wedding, but then pulled out after we went to look at the dresses, on the excuse that I "was running the show" (she didn't know that M and I had gone a few months ago to dress shop and found the one she wanted, so I was pulling out the dress and showing it to everyone, and I guess she didn't like it), but in actuality, it was because she was having issues with her brother. So, they apparently made up and she's now a bridesmaid.

2. I'm no longer MOH, but simply a bridesmaid. Her reasoning was twofold: one, because I hurt her feelings by telling her off, and two, because she felt that she put too much pressure on me, given everything I've been through this year (IVF letdown, my grandfather's passing, being elected to get grandma from Boston), and she felt that it was partially her fault. She told me that she feels as if I've changed and that I'm so stressed out all of the time, and that the "old me" wouldn't have normally reacted the way that I did. She also said that it was more important for me to be her daughter's godmother that it was to be her MOH, ultimately.

She said that it would take "a long time" for her to get over what happened, and that her fiance doesn't feel as if I like him (which isn't true) and he's not overly fond of me right now (her exact words were: "Well, he really likes Sean, and stuff, but it's not like the four of us are going to hang out together right now, but if he saw you out in public he [J] isn't going to be nasty to you, but he isn't going to go out of his way either"-nice, right?).

So, there's the story. I'm pretty much out of a 30 year friendship and a deposit I can't get back. Great, huh?

Like I said, this has been brewing for a few years. Yes, I was wrong to lose control-I could've handled it better. But, ultimately this pretty much opened my eyes about her and our friendship. Since her seperation and divorce she's become more and more self absorbed, and has less and less to give to others. Maybe she's always been that way and I didn't realize it, or maybe it's a result of the divorce, I'm not sure. But, the fact is, our friendship changed about three years ago, and it's sad.

People think that I'm insane for even agreeing to still being a bridesmaid, but I have two reasons. Firstly, I already bought the damn dress, and it was expensive. Secondly, I refuse to take the blame for this whole thing (which I told M-I told her that I felt that I was being punished for losing control when this whole thing wasn't my fault, since I was doing it with her mother's approval. She told me that she wasn't punishing me-in fact, if she was punishing me she would've cut me out altogether), and by being in the wedding shows that I'm the bigger person. I was told that if I came back that it would be as if it were forgotten, nobody would mention it, and if someone did, then she'd "take care of it". However, if one person does, then I'm out of there.......and I don't care if it is the night before the wedding. My father seems to think that she's going to skip out of the friendship once the wedding's over, which is probably true. But, at least I know that I did my best, you know?

I feel as if she really didn't expect me to agree to being in the wedding, since she asked her fiance's sister to be in the wedding again....four months before wedding, mind you), so now she has to deal with it. Actually, she called me last night and left a message that the dresses were in (quickly said), and it was the first time in three weeks that she's called me, and of course, all she talked about was the same things: herself, the wedding, her kid, and her ex. She didn't ask me about my vacation, she didn't really ask me about anything (I offered of course-I told her about the church job, and she sort of reacted). Nothing has really changed, I guess. She's probably still pissed off, and that's fine. But, I'm not 8 years old anymore, and I refuse to beg and plead with her to still be my friend. Perhaps if she bothered to really ask how I'm doing, and actually listen, then maybe I'd be more upset about it. Yes, I've changed-I can see that, Sean can see that; but, given what I've been through, how could I be the same person? And, since she's not gone through IF (although she tried to compare herself to me, I shot that down right away and very firmly told her that we most certainly did not have that in common), how can she understand? Really, I don't expect her to understand, but I did expect her to be there as support, and not just to give me my shots. Hell, anyone could do that. Quite frankly, she was not there for me emotionally when I needed her. However, she's not the same person either. Of course, she wouldn't want to hear that, but it's true. Our experiences shape our frame of mind and our personalities, and she's not immune to that. I guess the difference is that she's allowed to be selfish and I'm not.

That's the thing about myself that I don't like-I always expect too much out of people. I expect them to treat me like I've treated them, and it usually doesn't work out that way. Maybe I'm too giving of a person, maybe I let people get away with too much, I'm not sure. I'm the type of person who will always go the extra mile for my friends, and will go out of my way to do something that they'll enjoy. I'm that dorky person who'd rather give gifts at Christmas rather than receive them-I like to watch people open gifts and see their enjoyment. Many times, it's not reciprocated. And, I don't do things because I expect it in return, but I do expect at least SOME thoughtfulness. Some respect, really. Perhaps I need a thicker skin, or perhaps I've learned my lesson finally-it's not worth it to be kind or to go out of your way. Not when you get shit on for it.

Oh, and the funniest thing about this whole thing? I got the shower invitation in the mail while I was away. It's a "surprise" (yeah, right) shower and it's going to be held at a restaurant that's about 50 minutes away from her house. So, how is that doing what the bride wants? It's so not my problem, because I decided I didn't want anything to do with the shower. Since I'm not getting my deposit back-why should I put out more money that I obviously don't have? Especially since I'm not working this summer at all now? I feel even more stupid that I turned down a summer job partly because of planning the shower and needing the time to do last minute things-stupid me, huh? I wonder if she would've done that for me.....probably not.

This morning's conversation really brought it home to me-it's not worth it. It seems that God is cutting the toxic parts out of my life, and, although I didn't really need the drama surrounding it, it's got to be for a reason, right?

There HAS to be a reason that everything is falling down around me. At least, I need to hope so.

Helloooooo.......

2008-07-07T23:29:00.002-04:00

Hi everyone...

I'm still here. There's been LOTS of drama going on since my last post, plus we finally went on vacation (just got back late Sunday night), so I've been a bad, bad blogger.

Here's a summary of my life since we've last spoke:

1. The shit hit the fan with M and her wedding. Her mother and I were planning her shower, her mother blabbed as to where it was, M didn't want it there and pitched a stink, and I lost it and said that I didn't want anything to do with it-the shower, the wedding, nada. I got into a huge fight with M, said lots of shit that's been pent up for years, and then, three days later, I was "demoted" as MOH and made "just a bridesmaid". We haven't spoken for about three weeks, and I'm not about to make the first call. More on that later....

2. On Father's Day, I lost my church job, after being there for 11 years. I was fired by the Pastor, with the new Music Director sitting there-actually, the MD let the pastor do the dirty work. The reason? Well, on June 1st we did a special Mass celebrating Cardinal McCarrick's 50th anniversary being ordained a priest. We all knew about this for 4-6 weeks, rearranged our plans, etc. Well, at the last minute, he brought in 5 "ringers" (that's professional musicians who come in and sing/play)-and they showed up an hour before the Mass. People were pissed off (me amongst them, since I didn't know about it beforehand and I was a section leader-go figure), I was pissed off, and after the Mass I spoke to the MD and told him that people were displeased. Personally I don't have a problem with ringers-hell, I've done it myself, but I do have a problem when they come in with no rehearsal time with the group. It sends a message to the group that the director doesn't trust their musicianship, it undermines and it causes bad feelings. Well, I guess he didn't like that I said something, because two weekends later, after I cantored two Masses, I was "spoken to". So, I'm out about $1300 this summer. Which really sucks since I didn't take a summer job this year due to planning M's shower.......more on this later, too.....

3. Sean and I just got home from a cruise to the southern Caribbean, and it was AWESOME. I really really needed the break, and I relaxed, ate LOTS of food (although I still fit into my clothes, so it's ain't ALL bad), and forgot about life for a week.

4. Oh, yeah-I'm still infertile. I'm due for AF on Friday, and started that yummy brown staining this morning. I'm still doing acu, and added herbs (tea and dong quai) this month. I really don't think that they worked, but perhaps my period won't be a horror show.

So, that's it for now. I'll post tomorrow about #1 first, since it's a doozy.....

That Nasty Hope Thing

2008-05-09T22:08:00.000-04:00

So, I'm sure that if there's anyone out there still reading this drivel, you perhaps might be wondering whether or not I'm still here.

Well, I am. I have thirty-gazillion posts running through my head, but have yet to actually put anything down. Why? Well, partly because I'm a right lazy bitch, partly because I really have had no time to blog due to spring concert/end of the year junk, and well, if I'm to be completely honest.....it's really the "same shit, different day" kind of post. I mean, how many times does anyone want to read "I'm here, I'm still infertile, I'm an emotional mess, blah blah blee....." I suppose it gets kind of old. However, that's my life right now, so really, there's no reason to sugar-coat it, I suppose.

I miss the person I used to be. I'm slowly getting my snarkiness back, but the bitterness even amazes me sometimes. And, it comes on at totally random times, which doesn't make me the belle of the ball lately. I don't want to be the Bitter Barren Bitch that I am. I want to be able to enjoy my life, whichever fertility road we end up taking. So....why can't I?

My head is a jumble of things-should we cycle again, or not? Will it work, or is it a waste of time? If we decide that the ART route is finished, then what happens next? Are we ready to throw in the towel completely or should we try other options? These things fill waking hours of my day, and at inopportune times-like in the middle of a rehearsal, teaching a class, or just at home watching TV. I want to turn these thoughts off, but I'm finding I can't. And that frustrates the hell out of me, because I don't want to be defined by my infertility. I want to be me, but I'm not sure who "me" is anymore. I got married at 27 (almost 28), at a time in my life where I just starting to figure myself out and becoming more comfortable in my own skin, and then, a year later, we were thrown into the infertility merry-go-round, so now I'm not sure if that person I was 6 or so years ago was really me or not. All I know is that the person I am now is never how I envisioned myself. And, I also know that I don't like it.

How do I change it? I have no idea. Perhaps a part of it is coming to terms with things as it relates to my fertility, or, lack of it. Does that mean that I give up hope? Or, perhaps "hope" (that nasty bitch) is clouding my judgement and keeping me from being realistic. Then again, being realistic isn't all it's cracked up to be-you run the risk of over-thinking the situation. So, the question remains-how do you know when you're done?

Well, there's a question for you (if you're still out there)-how do you know when your "hope" for a situation, whether it be infertility, or anything important, becomes more idealistic than realistic? What defines the "breaking point" for you to change your outlook?

Still here

2008-04-24T16:24:00.002-04:00

Yeah, I'm still here. There really isn't much to write about, at least reproductively speaking.

Well, I mean there IS a whole lot, but then you'd think that I'm ten sorts of crazy, but trust me, I'm sure that you all will hear it in short order. I go back to Dr. Pipsqueak on Monday morning for the "Big Fat Failed Cycle" appointment. I'm not sure what I'm going to hear from her, but I'm sure that it'll be something that I'm not prepared for (since that is pretty much my MO for infertility), but we'll just have to wait and see.

I thank all of you for your thoughts, prayers, bitching and screaming along with me. Your support is so appreciated-words can't truly express that. There's been A LOT of shit going on here-the failed cycle, my grandfather's death (and trying to get my grandmother back here to live with my parents), and, now yesterday we had an incident in school (if anyone is in the Tri-State area, you probably know what I'm talking about).

I was there yesterday, and it was frightening that this happened in our school. It's scary that, in the world we live in that this should happen.

I just don't know what else to say, but I'll be back.

10dp3dt

2008-03-26T17:22:00.001-04:00

BFN

Go fucking figure. Stop meds, wait for AF, rinse, repeat.

I hate my body.

That is all.

9dp3dt-When it Rains, it Pours

2008-03-25T16:57:00.003-04:00

Yeah, yeah......still BFN......can't help myself. I've started cramping this afternoon, however, so who the hell knows what is going on.

However, we've been given some sad news last night. My 96 year old grandfather died last evening, in my grandmother's arms. He's been ill for a long time (a series of strokes, surviving stomach/esophagus cancer), but it was still a shock to get the call last night.

We've been frantically trying to figure out how the hell we're getting to Boston (and where we're staying) for the wake/funeral. Flights are fricking expensive as hell, and of course hotels aren't much better there (staying with relatives isn't an option, as they live in the North End). The services are set for Thursday and Friday. Thursday also happens to be beta day. I'm thinking of calling the RE's office to see if I can come in tomorrow for my beta instead-I'm not sure if one day or not will make a difference. We're probably not flying out until later Thursday morning, so I could feasibly still go to the RE's office. But, if it's a BFN, and I don't know about it, then I still have to travel with injection supplies on the plane, which would blow big time. Not to mention having to spill the beans to my parents, who didn't know we even did a cycle. Not really a good time to explain it all, is it?

So, as I mentioned, there's lots of things to arrange. It's keeping my mind off of whether or not any embryos are alive in there.

My grandfather isn't even my biological grandfather-my grandmother married him four or five years after her first husband (my dad's father) died. They were introduced by his sister, who was a friend of my grandmothers and lived in the same development in Florida. He married for the first time in his late 60's, and it was to my grandmother. He had no children. So, he got a ready-made family with us. And he always treated us as if we were his own. He bought me my first car, he made it possible for both my brother and I to go to whatever college we wanted to, debt-free. If we had wanted to go to law or medical school, he would have made it happen financially as well. Yes, he was extremely well-off, but he was the type of person who was generous and did it of his own free will, and with a glad heart. If it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't be where I am today. It's because of him that I went to Seton Hall, where I met Sean, where I got my degree and eventually went into education. So, you see, I owe him a lot. He was a wonderful man-he had a great sense of humor, with a thick "Nahth End" accent, intelligent as hell and loved having a good time.

I'll miss you, grandpa. Thank you for being who you were. You will be missed dearly.

8dp3dt

2008-03-24T18:33:00.002-04:00

Still BFN. Yeah, I'm a bit of a glutton for punishment, aren't I?

Easter was okay-we had dinner at G&A's, with other friends, and had a blast (and awesome food, too). I went to bed last night with a slight headache that woke me up at 3:45 this morning, which Tylenol has subdued from blinding to a dull roar. I didn't get back to sleep until almost 6am (due to the headache and the slight nausea that accompanied it), then had to be up by 9am because I made an appointment with my GP for a physical (duh-what was I thinking??). So I got to sleep for a few hours this afternoon and now I feel sort-of human.

As for the "are we or aren't we" symptom front.....well, I was really crampy Friday and Saturday, then Sunday evening when I used the toilet there was a pink stain on the TP that had some EWCM-like substance in it (c'mon, doesn't EVERYONE check their TP obsessively during the 2WW like it's a treasure map? Or perhaps it's more like looking at one of those hologram paintings, where it changes as you walk past it...it's a fruit! It's an elephant!..). Now, nothing. The crappy headache is a new development-it's on my right side, in my eye, and running around my head to my neck, with a runny nose ONLY on the right side, so I'm assuming it's a sinus thing. Oh yeah, and my BOOBS-holy SHIT! They KILL right now! I don't remember them hurting this much before-it actually has woken me up in the middle of the night as I turn over in bed. It actually hurts to lie on my side in bed-it feels like there are two huge boulders under my skin. The only time they don't hurt is when they're firmly encased in my bra. Which I'm seriously considering wearing to sleep tonight to see if it will help. Ouch.

Let's not mention the usual chemically induced greasy hair, acne on my shoulders and back (another new one) and progester-rage. I've forgotten just how much fun this drug is. And, sick as it sounds, I'll gladly take it for another three weeks if the beta is positive. Sore ass and all-I'll have a big motherfucking smile on my face the whole. damn. time.

So....I have NO ideal what the hell is going on. I'm not scheduling anything past Thursday in relation to my PIO shots (Thursday is beta day), just because I'm a superstitious fool. Do I think I'm pregnant? Honestly, realistically....I don't know. In my heart there is this little voice that tells me not to give up just yet, that it's still waaay too early to know for sure. The only time I got a BFP on an Evil Pee Stick of Despair it was the day before my beta. I'm really trying not to obsess, but well...we've all been down that road before, right? I'm just trying to fill my time so that I'm unable to obsess too much.

More later-time to make dinner, and I'm starving-damn progesterone! You're ruining my diet! And, I've got a lovely loaf of good Italian bread that I got with our pasta dinner. Which I plan on devouring.

Infertility really really does suck.

7dp3dt

2008-03-23T09:06:00.002-04:00

I took an Evil Pee Stick this morning.

Yes, I do know it's too early.

It was snow white. One line. No more trigger shot in my system.

Now the real waiting begins. The part that could be my undoing. The part that is the worst.

T minus 4 days until beta day.

That is all......

2dp3dt-Deja Vu

2008-03-18T20:52:00.000-04:00

Well, here we are.....again......for the eighth (yep, I counted) time.

So, what have I been doing? Well, school lets out tomorrow, so with the short week I've been busy, not to mention the weekend at church (I have another rehearsal tomorrow night). I've been really good about sitting a lot, drinking water and taking it easy, but it's been hectic.

As for how I'm feeling.....well, pretty good. I'm bloated and want to eat everything in sight, but really, I'm amazed at how well I feel. I guess this is the norm with an IVF cycle, but for me, it's nothing short of amazing. I remarked to Sean last night that the last cycle we actually had with a fresh transfer was over two and a half years ago, which is mind-blowing to me.

I am still a bit crampy-it's more obvious when my bladder is full, but I'm not sure as to whether or not this is normal (I'm assuming it's from the progesterone, that rat-bastard). My ovaries seem to have calmed down, and I can't feel them like I did the first few days after the retrieval. I go in for a hormone check tomorrow morning, then I've got a week to go until beta day. I also have to find out if the four embryos left were able to be frozen or not.

I've also been going to my acupuncture appointments-I had one this afternoon, and one Thursday, and I think that it's really helping me relax more. She's been treating me as if I'm already pregnant, so nothing in the belly, but in my ears, legs, inside of the wrists, in bewteen the eyes (!) and in my scalp. It didn't hurt, and I even got to take a little nap while on the table. I think, no matter what the outcome, I'll still continue with acupuncture-I've found that I actually like it.

Then again, I'm also having a two and a half inch needle shoved in my ass every night, so what the hell do I know.

A Nice Surprise

2008-03-16T13:28:00.002-04:00

Just got home from the transfer. We transferred in three great looking embryos-one 7-celled and two 8-celled. Both the Dr. Smiley and the embryologist (who also happens to be her husband) both feel that they were really nice, so now we hunker down to wait.

The surprise came when Dr. Smiley came back to see us before the transfer, to tell us that, although we were told on Friday that we only had 5 embryos fertilize, they were surprised to find yesterday that two more decided to fertilize. They're slow growing, but are looking okay. So, we've got 4 that they're watching, and will possibly freeze........let's hope so.

Let the waiting begin.

Perhaps, I SHOULD have worried.....updated

2008-03-14T12:55:00.004-04:00

Just got the call, from Dr. Pipsqueak herself.

5 fertilized. Only 5. They're recommending that I transfer 3 embryos. She said that it "looks good, but it's still early". There is a chance that I'll have a 5 day transfer, but I won't know until Sunday morning (the day of what would be the 3 day transfer).

Fuck.

Why do I get the feeling that this is going to TOTALLY suck? Why can't something go my way, for once in my life?

Fuck.

*************************

Transfer is set for Sunday at 12pm (also known around these parts as "high noon"). I'm to be at the surgery center at 11am with my big-ass bottle of water and ready for anything. If it ends up being a 5 day transfer, they'll call me on Sunday morning......nothing like waiting until the last minute, huh?

Of course, that means that I'm not singing the last two Masses on Palm Sunday....oh, well.....priorities, you know.....

ER

2008-03-13T19:22:00.002-04:00

Perhaps I shouldn't have worried.

24 eggs retrieved. As to how many are actually mature and have fertilized, we'll find out tomorrow.

It would be nice if I were able to make it to a 5 day transfer, wouldn't it?

I feel pretty good-sore, but not really bloated. No bleeding. Hey, is this what it's supposed to feel like when you're not hyperstimulated? What a frickin' concept. I'm still drinking a shitload, just to hedge my bets.

Okay, back to bed......more news (hopefully) tomorrow.

Day 9...Hoo Boy....

2008-03-11T18:50:00.002-04:00

Nurse Blondie's instructions for tonight, as follows:

Take HCG trigger (10,000iu) tonight promptly at 10pm, come in for monitoring tomorrow, then be at the surgery center at 8am Thursday.

We're on our way. To say that I'm scared shitless is an understatement.

Today's wanding showed my lead follicles at 18mm, with the rest hanging out at 15-17, and the smallest ones at less than 10mm. So, there seems to be enough follicles for ER-hopefully they will be mature eggs, though. My E2 jumped up from 1400 to 2000 (from Sunday to Monday), so I'm to assume that today's numbers were over 2000. I was told with the last cycle that they won't do a transfer with any numbers over 4000, due to the OHSS risk, so I guess I'll know tomorrow what the final count is.

Please God, let there be enough eggs that are good this time. Also, not bloating up like a watermelon and feeling miserable would be a bonus, too.

Please please please let this work out.

Stims, day 8-Brewing Follies

2008-03-10T19:05:00.000-04:00

And, on today's episode of "Follicularly Yours".....

Watch as S goes AGAIN for morning monitoring to be told that her E2 has risen from 400 to 1400 in a matter of two days, and has her Follistim lowered yet again from 75iu to 50iu....

Yep, today's date with the dildocam showed a buttload of nicely brewing follicles-the largest being 15-16mm, a whole bunch measuring 12-13mm, and the rest measuring <10mm. Dr Smiley is doing monitoring this week (I so totally love her in a non-romantic way!), and she mentioned that we'll probably have the retrieval being from Friday to Sunday, depending on when we trigger. I'm hoping that it'll be earlier rather than later, because I'm supposed to sing the WHOLE DAMN WEEKEND for Palm Sunday, and it'll totally suck to have to get a sub. I have the feeling that it will be earlier, given the phone call from Nurse Blondie telling met to lower my dose, rinse, repeat, and see ya tomorrow in the clinic. The other plus is that Dr. Smiley will be doing my retrieval (YAY!), which is cool (as cool as someone sticking a 12" needle through your cooter into your ovaries to suck eggs out of your body can possibly be, I suppose). I'm actually feeling pretty good, which is a definite change from past cycles. Usually, at this point I'm a bloated, hormonal, uncomfortable mess, so I consider this a definite improvement already. I'm just praying that my E2 doesn't start to get out of control, but I have faith that the RE's are on top of the whole situation. Hey, did I mention that I'm going to do acupuncture again? Yah, except this time it's not with a blind acupuncturist (not that there's anything wrong with that, btw.....okay, it DOES sound a bit odd, doesn't it?)-the hospital affiliated with Big Important Clinic has an outpatient center that has, along with the usual mammograms and MRI's, an alternative wellness center. They work with a lot of BIC's patients who are going through IF treatment, and will work around the transfer times to make sure that you get your treatments in. They seemed very nice on the phone, and I go tomorrow afternoon for my consult. Hey, if anything it'll relax me a little bit, so I'm up for anything at this point.

So, about the whole PCOS thing..... I am planning to speak to the RE's about either getting further testing or going on Metformin-everything I've been reading is indicating that taking Met not only improves IF treatment success, but helps in possibly preventing miscarriage. If I'm lucky enough to get knocked up this time around I'd like to hedge my bets, if possible (and, if it's needed). It's a lot to process, really, but in a lot of ways it makes a lot of sense. Perhaps it's the "missing link" for us...who the hell knows. As long as it gets me pregnant (and keeps me that way), that's the important thing, right?

Stims, Day 7-Slow and Steady Wins the Race?

2008-03-09T19:36:00.003-04:00

I've been staying on my 100iu of Follistim/10iu of Lupron for the past six nights. At my monitoring appointment this morning, after seeing my follicle count (three or four at 15mm, then a shitload less than 10) and being told that I'm to be seen daily from this point on, I asked how my E2 levels looked. Dr. C told me that it was over 400, which she was happy about, but she knew that this is the part of my cycle where my E2 levels start to take off, so she wants to be very cautious from this point on.

She must have made an accurate prediction, since the call from the nurse informed me that I need to reduce my Follistim to 75iu, stay on the same dose of Lupron, and that they'd see me in the office tomorrow morning.

Now, I did ask her this past week about the PCOS comment she made at my suppression check, and had a VERY interesting conversation. Apparently, I'm on the "PCOS spectrum", as far as BIC is concerned. I may get AF every month, however, my cycles tend to be on the longer side, I have gained weight that has seemed to collect around my midsection, have had some hair grow in odd places since I stopped birth control almost six years ago, the acne, and my ovaries present in a "classic" polycystic pattern (called PCO-polycystic ovaries), especially when stimmed (like now). Great, right? So, I asked her why nobody has ever explained this to me in the gazillion years we've been TTC, and she said that, with PCOS, not everyone has the "classic" signs of PCOS-you can have a few of the symptoms that could easily be explained away by other things. Unfortunately, for me, my ovaries and the way they react to Lupron and FSH are the main sign-my ovaries kind of looked like this at my supression check.

It freaks me out that, after all this time, my shitty ovaries are part (perhaps a BIG part) of the problem. It's looking like it ain't my shitty tube that's the issue, but my ovaries going haywire. I'm trying to get as much information about PCO as I can. It does make sense to me, though, so I'm not disagreeing with it at the moment.

I'm just hoping that this doesn't get all fucked up-that this cycle will be the right ingredients of science and luck. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

Let's hope so.

Who Says Drugs Aren't Fun?

2008-03-04T15:38:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I began my Follistim shots (100 iu), and HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT, I totally forgot how much they sting! Yah, it was like a shock as I was injecting it, and you could hear the "owowowowowowow this FUCKING HURTS" from around the corner last evening. It makes the Lupron look like a piece of cake.

So, I got up at the BUTT CRACK of dawn yesterday to be at BIC (sign in time was 5:58 am) to be drained of a vial of blood and a turn at the dildocam. The doctor on monitoring yesterday morning had an ultrasound tech with her for (what I'm assuming) is training, and as I'm getting ~~violated~~ probed, the RE indicated my Lupron-shrunken ovary and casually says, "And here you can see the classic PCOS follicle formation...." Uh....what? PCOS? I don't HAVE PCOS! At least, nobody told ME that I have PCOS! So now I'm having a mini-panic attack and will have to address it with her tomorrow at my first follicle check.

Okay, so........can we talk about how much the Lupron SUCKS this time around? I mean, really REALLY blows big monkey chunks? I was on 20 iu to start (I dropped to 10 as of last night) and wow....I really got the side effects this time around, especially the headaches. Luckily, last week's bout with the flu masked them for the week, but.....it feels like my head is in a vice ALL THE DAMN TIME. The Tylenol that I'm taking is doing absolutely nothing for it, either, and that (and Sudafed) is basically the only thing I can take at this point. I'm starting to think that the only cure for this is to repeatedly bash my head against a wall (taking a running start, of course), but then I'd have to explain the bruises and then Sean could possibly look like a wife-beater, and then I'd have to bail him out......you know the scene. I remarked on the Lupron Suckfest to Nurse Blondie yesterday afternoon when she called to give me the go-ahead on the FolliSTING, and she said that it would "get better soon"........well, WHEN!?! ARRRGH.

Oh, yeah.....I'm also having ~~random moments of complete insanity~~ mood swings as well, which is super fun for Sean. He's taken to tiptoeing around the house and rarely speaking above a whisper when around me, which is starting to make me feel like I have some incurable disease and annoys me even more. And the GAS..............let's just say that, thanks to me, we've been saving on heating costs the past two weeks. I'm also afraid to turn on the stove due to a gas explosion.

It should get better, right? I don't remember it being this bad. I'm chalking it up to the larger doses of Lupron, but I'm going to lose it if I have to feel like this for the next 7-10 days.

Hopefully it'll get better......soon....

I'm Alive.....

2008-02-28T08:30:00.002-05:00

This morning is the first time since Saturday that I've woken up and felt somewhat human. Not like a piece of sludge, which has defined basically the last five days. I've forgotten just how shitty the flu actually is-I haven't had it in YEARS, and boy, it SUCKS. Poor Sean-he was such a good nurse, despite my moaning and bitching and lying in the fetal position on a sweat-soaked bed (yeah, can you say "SHITTY PATIENT"?? I know you can!) and calling for my mommy (yeah, I did that too-I have no shame). I'm still really tired and achy, though. And, suddenly my nose has become a mass of sticky, yellowish snot (sorry for the graphics there) that's making me really glad that I'm seeing the doctor this afternoon, since I'm probably getting a sinus infection on top of it all. Ah, well, I haven't had my yearly sinus infection yet, so I guess I'm well overdue.

But wow, that was a bad one. I haven't been that sick in a long time. One of the positives (besides missing work this whole week-no church job, no sick kids....YAY!) is that I lost FIVE pounds! Considering I subsisted on a diet of 4 pieces of toast, three cups of tea, water and a bowl of chinese chicken rice soup in the five days I was really bad, I can see why. *Sigh*-I know it'll come back on again, especially since I'll be starting stims once I get my Luproperiod. Which should be soon, since I've starting the brown sludgy spotting. I just need to make sure the doctor knows so if I need drugs she'll know what to prescribe.

So.....yeah......I'm seeing a new GP today. I've been meaning to switch for AGES, since my original docs (who I LOVE) are really really too far away for me to get to. Like, over an hour away. Which not only makes it inconvenient for appointments, but if I ever needed to be admitted to a hospital, I'm screwed. So, luckily my health insurance doesn't require that you declare a primary doctor, so I can go to anyone. My regular twatotologist's wife is an internist, and when I went to him back in October he gave me a referral. I did intend to make a well visit appointment, but you know.....life gets in the way. And, now, here I am.

Okay, I'm off to have the first real breakfast in about a week-more than toast, that is. Eggs! Coffee! Oooh....can't wait.....

Watch, my stomach will probably rebel and I'll end up in the bathroom today. But, it's worth it.

Ugh

2008-02-25T04:59:00.003-05:00

Here's the mathematical equation for the day, folks:

20cc of Lupron + the flu=one miserable person.

Yup-I've got the flu. I didn't feel great on Saturday night (scratchy throat), but I thought that it was allergies, but then it hit me full force yesterday morning. Ever try to shoot up when you've got a fever of 101 degrees? Yeah, it blows. At least I really didn't feel it, due to the achy feeling that's running throughout my body. I mean, even my TOES hurt. Sheesh.

Well, at least I'm not feeling the Lupron side effects as much-I guess the flu cancels them out. So, instead of hot flashes, I've got the chills. I'd rather have the hot flashes, honestly. This just blows.

Watch......I bet I'll even get my period this week. Just to make it even MORE interesting. Because that's the kind of luck I have.

I'm off to re-dose myself with meds so I can crash again.....

My (Lupron) Buddy and Me

2008-02-19T17:07:00.002-05:00

My sorry ass got up at 4:30 this morning so I could make it to BIC in time for my appointment this morning. Of course, when I got there I was told that it would be bloodletting only, and no date with the CrotchCam, which slightly annoyed me because (a). I obviously didn't have to worry about the grooming status of my poonanny, and (b). I COULD HAVE SLEPT LATER. Sheesh. But, there is a plus side to this-at least I didn't have that "slimy cooter feeling" that you get after a date with the Wand. I mean, REALLY......no flowers, candy or a nice dinner, just that ever-so-slightly slimy "morning after" feeling from the gel. I might as well have someone leave cab money on the bedside table as they walk out the door.....but I digress.

Hey, at least they WARM the damn gel first. You've got to be grateful for the little things when you do an IVF cycle.

Anyways, I got my blood drawn, got my protocol from the nurse on call this morning, and got my phone call telling me that tonight's the night to start my BFF, Loopy Lupron. 20 lovely units to be shot into my slightly less poochy abdomen. I'm SO looking forward to the hot flashes and headaches that will surely be here soon. But, we do what we must, right? Since I don't have a choice I'm just going to make Lupron-ade from my Lupron. Minus the syringe, of course. Unless I use it as a stirrer.......nah.....never mind.

So, the only snag in the cycle start is that I got a call from my IVF Coordinator, who confirmed that my twato sent my PAP results.....but that I didn't have any signed consent forms on file for this cycle. Figures, right? I mean, WHEN does a cycle go smoothly for me (or anyone else, for that matter)!? I was freaking out that I wouldn't be able to start my injections tonight, but she's going to fax me the consents tomorrow and I'll haul ass up to a friend's house to do the notarization (he's a lawyer-yay!). Whew-I thought I was going to have a stroke when she told me that, but it'll work out.

I've also decided on doing acupuncture again for this cycle, albeit with a different person. Not that I didn't like the last guy, but I want to try someone different, perhaps someone with more experience with infertility. The fact that I want to willingly subject myself to MORE needles is just proof that I'm really messed up in the head. Or that I have a needle fetish? You decide.

Well, I'm off to shoot up-perhaps I'll have a last glass of Chianti beforehand-it'll hurt less (and I'll be less inhibited, who knows). At least, that's my excuse right now.

Back on the (ART) Bandwagon

2008-02-14T20:24:00.003-05:00

We've finally made our decision-it's time for IVF#4. I go on Tuesday morning to Big Important Clinic for bloodwork and a wanding (ah, Follicular Lurve Wand....how I've pined for thee!); if all goes well, I'll start Lupron that evening.

I am, quite honestly, scared shitless. It would be different if it were our first cycle-full of the optimism that it will surely work and we'll end up with twins and everything will be picture perfect, blah blah blah. Three IVF cycles, numerous FET's, and a lot of heartache later, Sean and I both know that there's no guarantees in this. We're both a bit jaded about it all; in some ways, we're sort of going through the motions with this-perhaps it's because we're unsure of the outcome (ie. a baby) or maybe it's because we've been through this before and we're used to the drill....I'm not sure.

That doesn't mean to say that the old whore named Hope isn't peeking her gnarly head through and pushing me along, because her saggy ass is definitely making her presence known. I've lost weight (a total of 14 pounds so far), have been eating healthier, am contemplating acupuncture again during this cycle and have made a solemn vow that I will absolutely let NOTHING stress me out at work. Not that this has any bearing whatsoever on the outcome of an IVF cycle, but I like to hedge my bets.....just in case. Hey, you never know, right?

I realized this morning that every single time I've cycled or done a FET, there was someone else in my life who was also cycling or TTC. Inadvertently, I ended up being somewhat of a "pregnancy magnet"-every single person (and I'm not kidding) ended up pregnant and had successful deliveries, and I ended up with BFN's. This time around, there is nobody that I know that is either currently TTC, either with ART or au naturale; it's just me (and those of you out there who are currently cycling). A sign, perhaps, that this could possibly work? I don't know. What I do know is that I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and I'll do everything in my power to maximize our last chance at this. The doctors are prepared (daily monitoring-what fun!), and I'm as prepared as I can be.

Let the games begin!

I Am So Boring as Hell

2008-01-27T23:03:00.000-05:00

Okay......so I've got one of my resolutions down, at least. I've lost a total of 10 pounds so far. It actually might be more, but because I'm a little bloated due to the imminent onset of the Red Tide-I haven't actually weighed myself in the past few days, so as to not get frustrated. But, I feel great-AND I'm fitting into clothes that have been sitting in my closet, so it's like getting a new wardrobe. As for the "mental health" portion of my promise......well.....that one's harder to work on. It's not as if I don't want to; it's just that I'm not sure how to proceed on this-especially since I don't exactly want to broadcast that I'm seeing a therapist. I'm not ashamed, but it's private, you know? So, I think that tomorrow I'm going to call my RE's office and ask Nurse Blondie about it-my clinic has a counseling staff-and see where it gets me.

So.....what else? Well, other than waiting for the Red Tide to show up-nothing is going on. Which might be a good thing, but quite frankly it's a bit boring (and is also why I haven't been updating-I mean, does anyone REALLY want to hear all about my recipe for tomato-cilantro soup that i found on a low-carb blog? Or how my belly and ass are getting noticeably smaller? Nah....it's like watching paint dry, and I wouldn't put anyone through that).

Yah-I'm boring right now. But, I really think that it's the calm before the storm, and I'm taking full advantage of the quietness right now.

Resolutions

2008-01-02T18:46:00.000-05:00

Thanks to everyone for the kind words about the Church Job Drama. I really don't think that it's going to improve any time soon, but I'm just going to try to hang in there, until I can't deal with it anymore. Unfortunately, Sean did decide to leave, as of this past Sunday, as well as G. It's sad, and it will be really weird not having them there, but it will end up being okay. I hope so, at least.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm not usually the type of person who buys into the whole "New Year's Resolution" thing-more often than not, you usually are really diligent about whatever you're giving up or doing, then.....well, you fall off the wagon, right? But, I was really excited about seeing the door hit 2007 right smack in the ass. Let's recap 2007 with the following equation, shall we?

4th FET BFN + a repeat HSG with suprising results (an open tube-yay!) - a negative DNA/karyotyping (which was originally lost) - a negative thrombo panel - a gazillion pregnancy announcements = No Baby In My Belly.

So, on New Year's Eve I decided to make a promise to myself-to change my outlook, in preparation for IVF #4.

In keeping with this, I've decided two things:

-I'm going to make a definite effort to lose weight and get healthy. I've gained almost 30 pounds since starting the IF journey, and I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror anymore, especially since I can't fit into any of my clothes. So, I began doing the Sou.th Be.ach D.iet today (I've done it once before, and lost a TON of weight) and, starting next week, will be hitting the gym to get fit.

-Since I'm going to heal myself physically, I've also decided to heal emotionally. As in, I'm seriously thinking about seeing a therapist with a focus on IF. I'm starting to realize that I can't really handle this all on my own-I'm the type of person who feels that I don't need any help, that I can do it by myself. However, we all know that IF isn't exactly something you can easily deal with. I'm really starting to think that perhaps I'm depressed (no....really?, you're thinking...). I need someone who can help me deal with all of this soupy mess that is inside my head. The hard part is finding someone, though; so if anyone out there has any advice (or even know someone here in NJ), that would be great help.

As I said before, this "healing" is all the prep for IVF#4, which will be probably be starting sometime after I get my January period (I'm on CD 5 now); so, we're probably looking at a March retrieval and transfer. I feel as if I'm boxer training for the Heavyweight Title, and I have to train so I can be the best. In some ways, I'm training for the fight of my life.

If I lose this time, that's it............game over. Do not pass Go. And I don't think that I'm ready for that yet.

I still have some fight left in me.

"It's all good..."

2007-12-26T17:14:00.000-05:00

So, here's the low-down on the Church Job Drama. I haven't been able to write about this, since it's so upsetting, but it's been over a month, so.....

Back in February, our pastor was transferred to the position of Vicar-General in the Archdiocese (a pretty big promotion). He was at our parish for almost 12 years, and we loved him. He was the one who hired A as Music Director, he supported the music program at the parish immensely. It was sad to see him move on, and we were reassured that the former Vicar-General (who was now going to be pastor) was wonderful.

Well, he wasn't so wonderful. Within the next few months, we had a nickname for him-Monsignor Speedy Gonzalez, for his tendency to rush through the Mass (he had even got the Mass down to 38 minutes one Sunday-with music, and an organ prelude and postlude). He also didn't seem to be a "people person", which isn't a great thing for a man who, as a part of his profession, has to minister to others....hmmm.....

It all started with A's meeting with him. Monsignor Speedy stated that he didn't "do high church", and that he wanted to make changes to make it more "efficient". Then it was the change of not reading the names of the sick out during the Intercessions (they're now in a "Book of Intentions" located in the church). Then it was changes to the music-less organ, less Latin, more piano, less care in the congregational singing.

Needless to say, it was worse for A than for any one of us-he had to deal with him more. Finally, in November, he couldn't deal with it anymore-after 10 years, he handed in his resignation, effective the end of November. The assistant organist was hired as Interim Director, and everything went on as scheduled.

The new director is NOT a choral director-he's not even that great of an organist, to be honest-he plays waaay too quickly, has no sense of cadence, but he is a body available. The Carol Sing went on as scheduled, with "changes"; a lot of the music cut, a few things added in that were more than cheesy, and no rehearsal time. This guy can't conduct worth a hill of beans, and he rehearses not for the benefit of the choir, but so that he can play the accompaniment (which he can't do anyway!)-after a hasty run-thru, he declares it as "that's good" and moves quickly on. He's not even prepared, with the exception of the prelude and postlude.

He's not really a leader-kind of wishy washy-so other choir members have decided to take up the slack and be leaders. Which leads to the "too many cooks in the kitchen" syndrome that's typical anywhere. Not to mention the backbiting, people leaving the choir outright rather than stay, and the mere fact the Monsignor Speedy decided to address all of this mess at the Carol Sing dress rehearsal, one month after A left. He was even stupid enough to "open the floor for some questions", which was a BIG mistake-it was like opening Pandora's Box.

Monsignor Speedy is ignorant. He doesn't care ultimately about what happens-he could care less about music in general. He doesn't get how the music can set the tone and actually enhance the liturgy, and elevate people to a level of prayerfulness. This is a guy who keeps calling me "Jessica"-he's been there for almost a year, and SIGNS my PAYCHECK and still doesn't know my name. This is a man who talks and laughs with another priest while the celebrant is saying the Consecration, for crying out loud. By the way, when he was confronted with it by a parishioner, he told them not to "tell him how to be a pastor".......is this guy FOR REAL??

People are leaving left and right. Morale is shit. Camelot is over. Sean and I are so upset-this parish was like another branch of our family, and it was a wonderful place to be. Sean is leaving the choir after Sunday's mass, and I'm trying to hang in as long as I can, but it's so damn disheartening. We've been both grieving this loss-our faith has been shaken and both of us have been unable for weeks to pray (or even receive Communion), we've been so angry and sad.

Whenever we've been driving up to church for the past few weeks, we've been having to mentally prepare ourselves for rehearsals and Masses, so we can get through the ineptitude. So, Sean's been saying, "It's all good...." every time something goes wrong. Unfortunately, the meaning behind it has become more and more sarcastic as the weeks have gone on. It's our code word for the situation, which has become seriously FUBAR.

If it's "all good", then why do I feel like shit, then?

Nothing, Nada, Niente

2007-12-14T10:37:00.001-05:00

The results are in. Well......actually, the results were in last week, but in the craziness that is Holiday Winter Concert Season, I haven't been able to post until now.

The tests found nothing wrong with me. Not a thing. Nada. So there.

Granted, I am happy about that-I mean, I really don't need anything else wrong with me right now......seriously, infertility is more than enough. However, there's a part of me is a little disappointed, since if I had a thrombophilic disorder then maybe, just maybe, there'd be a missing piece to the puzzle as to why none of the IVF's haven't worked.

Is it fucked up that I sort of wanted another diagnosis? Perhaps. I just wanted a more concrete answer from the medical establishment, instead of "Well....we can't understand why this hasn't worked yet...". As much as I love Big Important Clinic, and think that they're awesome, any human being with that much medical experience who tells you that makes you more than slightly unnerved.

So. We're back to square one. Again. We've made the choice that we're going through our fourth (and probably last) cycle, probably starting the Long Lupron protocol in January or February, with a retrieval/transfer in March. I'm not sure how I feel about this right now. I do want to do the cycle, but I'm just so damn afraid that it will be another bust, and that I'll end up in some psych ward somewhere, because I won't be able to handle the failure. Hell, I already feel that way some days, so perhaps it really won't be that much different.

I'm just trying to distance myself from the whole fertility thing these days-self-preservation at it's best. And, although my IRL friends are trying to be as supportive as they can, considering they have no clue what I'm going through, it isn't helping me. They are trying to be hopeful for me, even though I feel as if there's no hope left. And, the upcoming holidays aren't helping either-this time of the year always makes me sad, because, to me, Christmas has increasingly become a holiday not of celebrating family, but mourning the family that I don't, and possibly can't ever, have. I have no desire to decorate, put up a tree, or even shop for family gifts. I'd be perfectly happy to just stay home, to be honest. But we all know that's not going to happen.

I also got not one, but three more pregnancy announcements in the past two months-even though they were two IVF-related pregnancy announcements (and one announcement from a fellow IF'er that was a natural conception), it still makes me so sad and angry. I'm angry at everyone lately, especially at God-WTF?? What the hell did I do that was so bad that I'm not pregnant?

Jaysus, it seems that all I ever do these days is whinge and whine when I post. Sorry for being Debbie Downer and all, but it's just that kind of lifetime, know what I mean?

Next posting will be all about the Church Job Drama; and trust me, it's a doozy.

Do-Over

2007-11-26T17:43:00.000-05:00

I just realized that, in my blechness of being ill, I forgot to update on the Thrombophilia Panel Saga of a few weeks ago.

In our last installment, I was on the phone with my IVF Coordinator, trying to get the results of the bloodwork that I had done on October 16th (which, incidentally, was my grandmother's birthday....how ironic....). I was told by the Coordinator (who I've monikered "The Great Deceiver"-you'll see why in a second) to call back that Friday, 11/2, and the results should be in.

So I called. To find out that The Great Deceiver was out of the office that day. And I didn't leave a message, figuring that I'd call back on Monday morning. Which I did-only to find out that her voicemail hadn't changed from Friday, and I left a message. I never heard from her, so I called back on Tuesday and got the SAME VOICEMAIL MESSAGE (because you never get her "live" during business hours) saying she was out on "Friday". Assuming that she was still out (sick?), I called Dr. Pipsqueak's admin and left a message detailing the whole mess. She called me back that afternoon around 4:45 letting me know that TGD was actually in the office, and that she had already let her know that I had called, and that she was going to personally walk down to her desk to remind her to call me. She sounded peeved, and I assumed that it was because I was calling her instead of TGD. I felt badly for about a total of a minute, but figured that it was worth it to get a call back.

Which of course, I didn't. And then, the shit hit the fan the next day.

I called the admin back on Wednesday and left a pissy message that I have yet to hear from anyone about the bloodwork I had FOUR WEEKS previously, did I need to make an appointment to go over results or would I get results over the phone, blah blah blah. I also left a terse email to TGD saying the same thing. Which FINALLY got a response from TGD in the form of a snotty phone call saying, "Well.....I THINK I have all the results, and I'll forward them on to the doctor who will call you, as I DON'T GIVE OUT TEST RESULTS". To which my reply was, "Well, perhaps if you TOLD ME THAT to begin with, I wouldn't be calling you constantly-but, then again, perhaps if you also RESPONDED TO MY MESSAGES you'd know that". And hung up on her. Bitch.

Admin called me back the next afternoon, and firmly told me that "TGD spoke to you and told you that Dr. Pipsqueak would be calling you with the results". I relayed that I had already spoken to her and gave her the play-by-play of the conversation, told her that it was the first time I had heard from her since the end of October, and that I wouldn't even be bothering her if I didn't think that TGD was still out of the office. There was a silence on the phone, then I was asked, "You mean, she didn't even call you back when you called the first time? I walked down to her desk last week and told her personally that she needed to call you back." Well, nope, she sure as hell didn't.

The upshot of the conversation was that, apparently, The Great Deceiver does this "a lot" and admin has heard this story before from other patients. She gave me TGD's manager's name and let me know that I needed to make a complaint to her so she knew what was going on. Which I did, because I don't let people fuck with me. EVER.

And, the results, you ask? Well.........I still don't know yet. Nurse Blondie called and left a message on Monday that she wanted to go over the results, it "wasn't urgent" but they needed a test repeated, and the doctor wanted to know if I was taking any medications or herbs that would affect the test results, which I'm not-I made sure that I was taking absolutely nothing for about four days before the blood was drawn. One of the tests, the Lupus Anticoagulant Panel, came back with high levels, so I had to have a regular PT/PTT done. I had the blood drawn Friday, and hopefully they'll get the results today or tomorrow and I'll hear sometime this week from the doctor. Nurse Blondie sent me the funky results along with the labslip, and it was interesting seeing the results on paper. Although....I'm not sure why the hell it would be a high clotting time-shouldn't it be lower if you have a thrombophilia disorder? Perhaps it's what the use in the culture medium that's different than a normal PT/PTT. If any of you out there have any clue as to what the hell it means, please let me know, since I'm a bit ignorant about this.....

Either way, I get the sneaking suspicion that they've found something (since Nurse Blondie stressed that she wasn't the one to be able to tell me the results, and that the doctor would be the best one to talk to), and they're just confirming the obvious.

So.....that's where we're at. I'll update when I get more information......

Hmmm.....

2007-11-24T17:27:00.000-05:00

So.....should I be insulted, worried, or excited about this?

You Are The Fool

You are a fascinating person who is way beyond the concerns of this world.
Young at heart, you are blissfully unaware of any dangers ahead.
You are a true wanderer - it has be difficult finding your place in this world.
Full of confidence, you are likely to take a leap of faith.

Your fortune:

You are about to embark on a new phase in your life.
This may mean changing locations, jobs, friends, or love status.
You are open about what the future will bring, and free of worry.
You have made your peace with fate, and you're ready to start down your new path.

What Tarot Card Are You?

Anywhoo......Turkey Day went well-too much food, and lots of family around. We went yesterday to my parents and stayed overnight. I haven't been feeling well the past few days-nauseated, headache, just blechy feeling, and there's some stomach virus going 'round (I actually was "in vomitus flagrante" this afternoon), but otherwise, it's better than being at work, right?

At least, that's how I'm trying to justify it. Oh, well.

Hope all of my colonialist friends had a great Thanksgiving, and for my European friends, hope the weekend is going well.....

Personal Purgatory

2007-11-05T20:22:00.000-05:00

It's been really difficult for me to blog lately. Not because I hate people, or that I don't care about anyone else out there. But, it's getting hard to really express myself. Call it writer's block, perhaps; but for me there are so many emotions and monologues running around in my head that I'm afraid to let out, so as not to seem bitter, angry and.....well.........insane, really.

But it's also getting hard to keep all of this inside. Sooner or later it's going to explode, like a volcano. And, like a volcano, it will be impossible to clean up.

Since turning 35 about three weeks or so ago, the thought that perhaps this won't work out for me has been eating away at my psyche. There's been the various pregnancy announcements (two in the last month alone) and, although I am happy for those people, the bitterness that I feel rises up like bile in my throat and chokes back those good wishes. And then, I feel so guilty, because I can't understand why I just can't be happy for someone's good news without first thinking of my own pain. I feel so selfish and self-absorbed-like I can't be the better person. And then I feel even worse.

Some days I wake up and I'm okay-I don't think of my infertility every five minutes. Other days I wake up and go through the day waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I feel as if I have my guard up constantly so as to not feel the pain. Oftentimes, I wake up feeling numb, as if I'm just going through the motions. As if its one more day in the life sentence that is infertility, and that it ain't going to change anytime soon-sort of like an axe murderer on a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Except that axe murderer more than likely has children who'll visit once a month.

Our friends and family have stopped asking us about it, and, while it is a relief in some ways not to feel that pressure, I'm not sure that people not asking us is any better. Perhaps they're afraid to bring it up because they don't want to hear it, or hear more crappy news. Or, perhaps they've given up on us ever having children at all.

I think it hit home the most when I redid my blog template and went through my blogroll. Out of the people that I originally started this journey with, I am the last person left without children. In fact, the majority of the people there have their babies or are pregnant. And, that hurts like hell. I get so angry, not at the people who've moved on, mind you, but at God that he's left me alone. I've more than paid my dues. I've gone through hell with treatments and procedures, prayed, visited shrines, had the Evil Eye removed, bought energy beads, and all for nothing. And if one more person tells me to "think positive" and read that horrible Sec.ret book I'll rip their eyes out with a spork. Seriously. Why put me through all of this? Why show me everyone else who can have children, and leave me standing on my own? What's the point of that? What do I need to learn from this that I haven't already been taught, the hard way?

I feel that life is moving forward, and yet I'm being left behind. I don't feel as if I'm alive, just living day to day in a perpetual state of waiting, much like the souls in Purgatory that are waiting for redemption and acceptance into Heaven. All I know is that I'm 35 years old and the mother of none, and as that number creeps forward the possibility of motherhood gets slimmer. What do I have to show for it? A box of unused syringes, unused meds on the top shelf of our fridge, some alcohol swabs, and a lot of insurance receipts. That's all. No children's laughter in our home. Just an empty room in our house painted yellow and white in expectation of things that may never come to fruition. A room with a door that's now kept closed so we're not reminded of it's presence. So we don't hear it mocking us for painting it those colors to begin with, and for being so naive and optimistic when we should have been on our guard.

I really feel as if I'm drowning. What happened to the person I was before? Did that person really exist to begin with? How do I define myself if I can't be a mother? I don't know who I am anymore. And that scares the shit out of me.

See, I told you I'm going off the deep end.

Large National Lab Blows

2007-10-30T21:31:00.000-04:00

So, I called the IVF Coordinator today to find out where the dilly-o my blood results were. They were supposed to be in by today (according to IVF Coordinator).

Well, I called, and OF COURSE they weren't in, and she had to call Evil National Lab from Hell, who told her that they had SOME of the results ready, but the rest won't be ready until the end of the week. After they originally told her on Friday that the results would all be ready by today.

So, what the FUCK?? Does it normally take this long? It's starting to freak me out, because it's making me feel as if perhaps there is something wrong. Like they're going to find something.

Motherfuckers. May the fleas of a thousand camel infest the armpits and nether regions.

After they get the testing done, of course.......I'd hate to have fleas in my test results.

Ick

2007-10-29T18:49:00.000-04:00

I've really been a shitty blogger, haven't I?

Don't answer that.....

Seriously, it's been hard to post lately. Not just because I've been busy with work and such, but also because there seems to be a lot of crappy things that have been going on the past few weeks, such as:

*Grandmother being in the hospital and being diagnosed with Factor V Leiden/S-protein defenciency (although she no longer has the PICC line in and is now home-yay!)

*Having 12 (!) vials of blood drawn for a thrombophilia panel and other lovely clotting tests to see if I have inherited this wonderful genetic mutation from Grams (haven't found out yet-probably tomorrow or Wednesday).

*Getting the monthly bloodflow AGAIN (what else is new, right?)

*My blog template sucking royal ASS because the designer skipped Virtual Town and leaving my blog high and dry, and getting a crash course in blog design (thanks to a handy-dandy program in my laptop that I didn't even know I had!) to try to fix it.

*A resigning from church as Music Director (due to differences between him and the new pastor), the choir pretty much falling apart, and me probably being out of the cantoring/church job in about two weeks.

*Oh, yeah........and I'm not pregnant. Again. So, what else is new?

Argh

Soooo...

2007-10-28T23:02:00.000-04:00

Whaddya think of the new template??

And, guess what?

I DID IT ALL MYSELF!!! WOOT!!! Go me!

Okay, I'm done patting myself on the back now.....

A Missing Piece of the (Fertility) Puzzle?

2007-10-08T12:42:00.000-04:00

Another one of the reasons that my postings have been spotty as of late is because my grandmother (my father's mother) is in the hospital. And, some very interesting things have developed due to this.

About three weeks ago, my grandmother (who lives in Boston with my 95 year old grandfather) was on the phone with my mother; she had been to the dentist earlier in the day and had Novocaine, and wanted to know how long it would take for the medication to wear off. During the conversation, she suddenly started babbling and garbling her speech-my mother went directly into "nurse-mode" and was trying to tell her to call for help.

At which point, my grandmother hung up the phone. And, my mother had no emergency numbers to call anyone else (my grandfather's nephew and his family live on the third floor of the building). Frantic, my mother kept redialing and tried to see how to call 911 when out of state.

Finally, my grandmother answered the phone. She was able to talk, and everything seemed fine. My mother insisted that she go to the doctor's the next day, but of course, my grandmother being the stubborn old bird that she is, hemmed and hawed about it.

Until the next day, when she still didn't feel well. My grandfather's nephew brought her (under duress) to the doctor. Who promptly admitted her to the hospital.

It was determined that she did have a stroke, but luckily it didn't affect her speech. She's been hospitalized before due to clots-once with a DVT (deep vein thrombosis) of the leg and a PE (pulmonary embollism) in her lung. But, up until this point, it never resulted in a stroke. So, she was observed, given medication, and released.

Three days later she ended up back in the hospital, because the arm in which they placed the IV began to swell. It turns out that she has a blood infection from the IV line (can we say "potential negligence due to a non-sterile field"?? Yah..). They also find ANOTHER CLOT in her arm, where the IV was, so they had to put in a PICC, gave her Coumadin, and now have to release her to a subacute facility for four weeks of additional IV antibiotic therapy. The hematologists then decided to do a more extensive blood analysis to see what's going on.

The testing shows that she has Factor V Leiden and Protein-S Deficiency. We're not yet sure whether the gene mutation is homo- or heterozygous, or what else is affected. But, she's had it her entire life. Which explains why it took so long for her to get pregnant. And why she had miscarriages before and after having my father, who is an only child, since FVL increases the risk of miscarriage, preeclampsia and placental abruption.

Ah, the wonders of modern medicine. For years, my grandmother thought that her infertility was "God's will", but it was just a case of genetics. It only took her 89 years to find it out.

So..........guess who's now getting tested for it? Yup. It's very likely that I have the mutation, given the family history (a few of my grandmother's sisters and brothers had strokes and similar clotting issues), but we won't know for sure until the tests are run. My father and brother also will need to be tested, and my mother is thinking of it also, because she has no idea if it's in her family.

Could this be the missing piece of the puzzle for me? Will finding this out help me get pregnant? Not that I want an additional diagnosis, really........but, if this is what's keeping me from getting (and staying pregnant), and it can be treated, then bring it on. I'm more than ready.

WTF???

2007-10-03T22:05:00.001-04:00

You know the old saying, "when it rains, it pours"?

Yep. That's my life right now, in a nutshell. It seems as if everything's FUBAR.

Firstly, work is kicking my butt. I got new special ed classes added to my schedule this year-autistic kids. Who are nonverbal. Two who have "regular seizures" and are not on any medications. One of who had a seizure about half an hour after he left my class this morning.

Not much fun.

Then, my blog. For some reason, I no longer have my bitchin' graphic. Emails to Moodswing Creations are coming back to me with delivery failures, and the Moodswing site is down. So, no more bitchin' graphic, unless Denise contacts me.........hopefully everything's okay....

And then, I started spotting on 9/21. Since my period wasn't due until the 28th, and spotting for a week before isn't exactly normal, I called the RE's office. Who relayed that they wanted me in on Wednesday for bloodwork and a date with the wand.

Nurse Blondie called me back that afternoon-the wanding showed that I'm in my luteal phase (duh!), and they ran a beta just for shits and giggles.

Which came back at 2.61.

Since anything over 5 is considered preggo, I had to go back in on Friday for another bloodletting. Of course, I get my period within a half hour of getting home from the aforementioned bloodletting.

This beta came back at 2.7. So, back on Monday. I've now acquired a lovely bruise the size of a quarter on my right arm.

Monday's beta was 3.3. Still negative, as far as they were concerned. So, I have to go back in on the 8th for more torture........uh......I mean bloodwork.

Now, I asked Nurse Blondie why in the hell I would have any kind of beta number if I was so obviously not pregnant. She's calling it a "lab error" or "lab sensitivity". But......wouldn't the number be going down, not up? I did ask if I ever had this happen in any other cycling I did, and the answer was "no", so this definitely isn't normal for me. Of course, when you look up "HCG in non pregnant women", it comes up with wonderful references of ovarian tumors and pituitary tumors. God forbid. Anyone out there have this happen to them? Or am I just the only physiological freak here?

Isn't it the ultimate kick in the ass? Getting a beta number and knowing you're not pregnant-it's just another way that the universe is giving me the virtual finger and laughing hysterically.

Just my fucking bad luck, I guess. Honestly, though-I'm just tired of being the one who always has the crappy luck, though. I just want a baby. Why does that seem like it's too much to ask for?

Called Out

2007-09-08T11:45:00.000-04:00

I have to admit-I lurve you guys. Seriously.

I haven't actually sat down and talked to the lovely Sean yet about all of this (we've actually not seen much of each other since it's Fashion Week and he's jobbing out), but I am leaning toward trying au naturale for a bit longer. Then, perhaps we'll do that last cycle. Your comments made me see that 35 isn't really the Fertility Kiss Of Death as the twatotologists make it seem to be. Hell, if that were the case, how the frick did people in my family have "late in life" babies? I mean, my great-grandmother was pregnant with her firstborn the same time her own mother was pregnant with her last baby? Seriously-I think that my great uncle was only a few months older than his youngest aunt. If they can do it, so can I, right?

Maybe we'll do a cycle in February or March, depending on the lab schedule. We can't do a cycle in December or January, because of M and Sexy J's wedding at the beginning of October (now labeled the Event of the Century)-they just don't make sexy maternity wear in an "I'm about to drop this baby out of my cooter onto the dance floor" size. Well, you get what I mean. Unless we go to the camping store and buy a nice tent-hmmm, there's an idea.......

Anyways, all bets might be off if the school district's contract negotiations don't resolve, as the Board of Ed want us to pay into our benefits and the union doesn't want to. Yes, I know that in the grand scheme of things, it isn't that big of a deal (Jaysus, I even payed into medical while working as an employee in a medical insurance company for 7 years), but when you've never payed into medical benefits before, it kind of sucks-especially since any raise in salary we get will then go towards medical insurance payments. And, we don't make a whole lot to begin with, even compared to other districts in our county. So, in effect, if we have to pay a percentage of our insurance, we're basically not getting a raise. Which blows large monkey anuses.

Needless to say, we're now working without a contract. The union tried to meet twice with the Board, but when the subject of paying for benefits came up, and the Board was told that it wasn't part of the agenda, the Board abruptly ended the meeting and walked out. Not good. So, let's hope that there isn't a "job action", because then we're REALLY screwed-and not just reproductively.

***************************************************

So, there's something that has been rolling around in one of the cavernous spots in my brain for about a few weeks now. It's regarding a comment left by the lovely Denise a few weeks ago (and I respectfully quote):

I just love your sense of humor you inject. While I don't know if it's natural for you or if it is a defensive technique, your blog is a joy to read. When we were TTC and going through all the crap that comes with infertility, I learned to be a great actress. While I consider myself a funny person, I also injected extra humor into things. Then I wouldn't cry.

Aww.....I'm blushing. You like me, you REALLY.....okay, you know the rest. Heh.

But seriously, Denise, what you said really struck me for a second, and it made me think about me and how I deal with all of this, and whether it's my personality or sense of self-preservation that shows through on this blog.

I totally get what you mean about being an "actress" when it comes to all of this crap. I try not to show my feelings in front of people, unless they're being total ignorant asshats-then I have to get my Infertility Freak On and "educate" them. I guess, to a point, my sense of humor could be a defensive measure (self-preservation and all that). But, have I always been the kind of person who finds something humorous in situations that are, in essence, not at all funny? Well.....yes. But, not deliberately. I like to tell stories, this is true, and I suppose that my theatre background helps in that regard. But, is it a part of my personality? I don't know.

I mean, I don't really consider myself having a great sense of humor (although, if those of you who know me IRL disagree, I stand corrected) or that I'm an extraordinarily funny person. I've thought about this, and I think that my particular brand of sarcasm is a direct result of infertility. A casualty, if you will. Oddly enough, between Sean and I, he's the one to be the "funny one" of the relationship. The one to make a joke in a TOTALLY inappropriate situation (like at a wake-and I'm serious about this). And, perhaps the twelve or so years that we've been together have rubbed off on me, and I've developed this too.

Yes, I do think that it's partly as a defense, but really I think this blog from the beginning has always been, for me, a form of therapy. A place to let things out. I suppose that, ideally, it's not entirely natural to find the humor in every aspect of infertility, and I really REALLY should go into "traditional" therapy but, for now, this has been enough for me. Will it always be enough? Who knows.

I think a lot of it is that I have to find the funny in the situation, to be able to deal with it. It's also to remind me that it's not always as bad as it can seem, because I sometimes overreact to things. That if I can laugh, and make someone else laugh, then it's not that horrible. Even if it is.

I also think that I try to put a sense of humor here because it isn't only a case of self-preservation, but perhaps it helps other people, too. I remember, even before I decided to blog, and in the early days, reading blogs like Julie's and Olivia Drab's (who just had her beautiful daughter yesterday-congrats!) and laughing my ass off, even when I felt like shit. And I was surprised that I felt better afterwards-that it didnt' make infertility "okay", but it made it more bearable for me. That doesn't mean that their reproductive lives are happy-go-lucky, but it helped me when I was in a low spot. So, maybe it's a case of "paying it forward".

I, too, rarely cry anymore when comes to infertility. Whether it's because I can laugh it off or because I'm desenstized to it I don't know-perhaps I'm just more accepting and used to it. But what I do know is that, regardless of whether you can laugh or cry about it, it all still sucks-no matter who you are, what your diagnosis is or whether or not you're still trying, in some sort of treatment, or have achieved your family. It still really really sucks.

But, thanks, Denise-your comment really made me think-and search myself to really get a grasp on my feelings........and that's always a good thing.

So, everyone-how do you get through? What do you do to cope?

And, booze doesn't count-that's a given.

Red Light, Green Light

2007-09-01T22:43:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to post on the results of Dr. Pipsqueak's appointment, but being that the first day of school is fast approaching (t-minus 4 days and counting-ouch!), I've been busy trying to get organized in both of my schools-getting schedules, dealing with additional special ed classes being added to my schedule last minute, tracking down supplies.........all those fun things that we teachers love to do to get ready for the arrival of the kids. That, and drinking heavily between now and the first day of school.

Now, onto the appointment results....

So, the upshot is that all the karyotyping and Fragile X testing came back normal for both Sean and myself, as well as the physical and ultrasound I had on Tuesday afternoon. Which I'm relieved about, because I was convinced that they were going to find that I was some reproductive mutant with latent pyrotechnic abilities that might trigger with a Lupron/Follistim cocktail (hmmm....gotta find an X-Men name for that one...). As for the HSG results, the right tube is open and ready for business, the left is blocked fimbrially, but there is no need to remove the tube as it wasn't dilated prior to the dye being introduced during the test. I did ask her if it was realistic to try on our own and hope for natural conception, and her exact words were, "I'd definitely try if I were you", but, if we want to do another cycle, we're cleared for it. If we do manage to get pregnant on our own, however, they still need to monitor me closely, since my risk of ectopic pregnancy jumps from 5% to 25%.

And that was that. Other than having the nurses in hysterics when I talked about getting the Follicular Lurve Wanding (and yes, I actually DID say that-why not!?). Now, the choice has to be made.

Do I go ahead with another cycle, or do we try this on our own? Am I really ready for the monitoring, injections, and stress? Do I want to put myself through the TTC au natural again?

ARRGH.....I hate this! On one hand, I feel like time is ticking away-I'll be 35 in six weeks time-and that with the passing of that birthday it will be like an Ovarian Death Sentence and that suddenly my body will not be as cooperative in the egg quality department. But, I don't want to rush into a cycle that could potentially fail just because I'm passing the Magic Fertility Cut-Off Number, especially as it's the last time it will be fully covered by insurance. On the other hand, I never really gave the TTC on our own a fighting chance-well, we did try on our own for almost a year, but I don't think that I ever really got the timing right, plus all the charting/temping crap just aggravated the hell out of me. Then, by the time I got the Fertility Monitor, I only used it one or two cycles before I got my initial diagnosis, then stopped as I thought it was a collosial waste of time-what was the point of knowing when I ovulated when I was being told that both of my tubes are blocked?

Of course, now that I'm being told that there's one open tube, it's throwing a wrench in everything. Yes, I know that I have a higher risk of ectopic, that just because the dye spilled doesn't mean that the inside of the tube isn't damaged in some way-I mean, we've been having unprotected sex for five years now and I've never gotten pregnant. But, I've also been looking up the probability of getting pregnant on my own, and as long as the tube and ovary are good, I have a shot as much as anyone. Hell, if my mother, who only has one tube and ovary (she lost the other side due to a dermoid cyst the size of a grapefruit on her ovary) and was told that she might never conceive managed to do it twice in 20 months (yeah, she got pregnant with my brother six weeks after I was born), and one more time 10 years later (and lost it), maybe I can, too.

But, the thing that is nagging me the most is the strong gut feeling that I'm having to try it on my own-a last hurrah, if you will. That it could work without medical intervention. I've never felt like this during this entire TTC journey. But, I'm afraid that this isn't a true instinct , but is just a reaction against doing a cycle, due to fear of failure.

Yet, I'm still getting this odd feeling that I'm being guided to this choice somehow. Needless to say, I'm more than confused as to which choice to make, and nobody around here (excepting present company, of course!) that has a clue to really hash it out with.

So, tell me.....................what would you do?

St. Anthony says, "Accio, Test Results!!"

2007-08-22T17:54:00.000-04:00

....and they've been found! YAY!

Okay, the contest winner is Frank, because his creative cross-relation between St. Anthony of Padua and Harry Potter. As a child, we had a plinth in our front yard with a four-foot statue of St. Anthony on it......and no, I didn't live in a convent-we're ITALIAN, for God's sake! It's almost as if it's MANDATORY to have a saint's statue in the front yard (that is, if you don't have a mini-grotto dedicated to the Blessed Mother). Anyway, Frank-you got brownie points due to the fact that I had a bit of nostalgia going on. Plus, in an eerie co-winkeedink, he is also one of the Patron Saints of infertility and/or barrenness. Betcha didn't know THAT!!

Heh. But, thanks to you guys for your answers-they gave me a giggle when I needed it.

Anywhoo........I finally got a message back the end of last week, so I have an appointment on the 28th with Dr. Pipsqueak to go over the results and also for a physical and date with the Follicular Lurve Wand......damn, should I wear my lacy DKNY bra and matching silk and lace panties for the event? Maybe shave my va-jay-jay in the shape of a heart? It's just that it's been a long time since I've had a wanding, and I'm all of a-flutter.

More than likely, since I'm 13dpo and I'm sure that I'll be Rebooting the Ovarian Operating System any day now, I'll show up in my graying period panties (aka "quitters" around here) with the rip in the waistband and a poonanny that looks like I took a Flowbee to it. Let's complete the "Snaggle Bush" look with hairy legs, too. Because I just. Don't. Give a shit.

I mean, really......do RE's (or twatotologists) REALLY CARE that you're....uh....cleaned up down there? Do they compare and contrast with other patients? I seriously doubt it-doctors, in general, don't look at patients as "human" when doing a clinical exam (and, that's not meant as a crack against doctors), so as to be less embarrassing for everyone involved. But really, wouldn't you love to know what they're thinking?

Okay, maybe I just want to know what they're thinking. 'Cause I'm just weird like that

Oh, who am I kidding? I'll make sure that my undies aren't quitters....

Le Sigh. Such is the life of an infertile.

Dude, Where's My Bloodwork?

2007-08-13T12:22:00.000-04:00

In the last installment of the saga titled, "S and the Mysteriously Disappearing Test Results", a certain blood drawing center beginning with the letter "L" somehow had no record of my Offering to the Phlebotomy Gods. Which meant an instant replay of those aforementioned events. Although it was extremely annoying (and really, what isn't annoying about infertility? And why should this be any different, right?), they only needed to take 4 vials. No biggie.

Isn't it sad that I don't think that's a big deal? Or perhaps I'm just desensitized to the whole thing by now.

Anywho.....since this past Saturday marked my three week "veni-versarry", I decided to email my IVF Coordinator early Friday afternoon the following to see if they received the results yet, as well as my PAP results that the twatotologist's office neglected to send:

Hi IVF Coordinator:

I'm just following up to check and see if you've received the copy of my PAP results from Twato that I requested from them three weeks ago, and if you perhaps received back results from the bloodwork that we had re-done (also three weeks ago).

Is there anything else that we need to do, besides scheduling a physical for me? Will we need to make an appointment with Dr. Pipsqueak to go over any results of all the new tests before proceeding with a new cycle?

If you could let me know, I'd appreciate it-you can either respond via email, or call me at home: (INF) ERT-ILE1.

Thanks for your help (and hope you're staying dry today!)

And waited. And waited some more. I finally got a response (almost three and a half hours later):

Hello,

To date I have received your pap results dated September 06'. I have not received your bloodwork. What lab did you go to? The only thing that will be missing is the physical exam that you can schedule with Dr. Pipsqueak's admin.

Now, did that answer all of my questions? Uh....nope. I have a sneaking suspicion that she didn't read the whole email. So, I sent this response (about a half hour later):

Hi:

Sean and I both had our blood drawn at Evil Lab on July 28th. When I asked the intake person how long it would take, she said around 7-10 days...

Thanks,S

And haven't heard a thing since. Nada. Niente.

So, what the FUCK is the deal here? As much as I love Big Important Clinic, I'm not loving my Coordinator. Every time I've had to contact her, she takes tons of time to respond. Now, I know that they're busy (when I asked her about not receiving my HSG results, she told me that she was "very busy and can't get back to everyone with test results-huh???), but when I met her for the very first time, she made a point of saying how she was ALWAYS reachable by phone or email. I have yet to call her without reaching voicemail, or email her with her responding in less than three hours.

Reachable my fat, saggy ass. So, I guess when I go for my physical, I need to get my Italian Bitch on and complain to Dr. Pipsqueak. Which I hate to do, as I don't want to seem difficult.........but TOO LATE.

So, I'm sending out a little assignment to everyone out there-be creative and guess where the hell my bloodwork is. The winner will will have their answer be the title for my next post.

So, get thinking!

Nectar of the Gods

2007-08-05T21:17:00.000-04:00

Blerch.

So, when it rains, it pours, right?

I have a fricking "cold" (or sinus infection, virus, whatever). I went to the beach on Thursday and came home with a slight headache, from what I thought was from being out in the sun. Then came the nausea, chills and fever, along with some lovely congestion and a sore throat.

Which has made me a blob that's been vacillating between the couch and my bed ever since.

NyQuill is wonderful, however it makes me so out of it, not to mention that sleep is elusive for everyone else in the house, including me. I've apparently been snoring so badly that I've woken up poor Sean not once, but TWICE last night. Unfortunately, in his attempts to get me to roll over he ended up waking me (you know how it is when you're sick-you truly don't get into a deep sleep), and I couldn't get back to sleep right away-at least, not until I dosed myself with more NyQuill.

Sean said that it was pretty funny though, to hear me snoring like a lumberjack. Of course, I have NO MEMORY of any of this, so I'm treating all of this as hearsay...

My mother insinuated that it's the alcohol in the medication that's knocking me out and later making me loopy. Perhaps I'll just have a slug of Brandy before bed and hope for the best. Or more NyQuill.

Ah, NyQuill - the Nectar of the (Infirm) Gods-I salute you-as long as you make me better.

And The Shit Keeps Rolling Downhill

2007-07-30T11:01:00.000-04:00

It looks as if August isn't going to be the month for an IVF cycle.

I called the RE's office last week to leave a message that I was at the lovely CD#1, but the nurse was out for the day, so I left a message. The next morning my IVF coordinator called me back and told me that my IVF checklist wasn't completed yet-I still had to do a physical, get my PAP results in and do a buttload of bloodwork. WTF? I already did the frickin' bloodwork and my gyno was supposed to forward the PAP results. So, the coordinator called LapCorp (which I DETEST) to see where the bloodwork was, while I called the gyno's office to see what was up.

LapCorp lost it. They don't even have a record that we were there. The gyno's office also doesn't have a record of the fax I sent, so I had to resend it. Again.

Motherfuckers. I hope they all get crabs.

So, guess who had to redo bloodwork that will apparently take 2-4 weeks? Yup. The coordinator was supposed to fax me the request form "right away" so we could do the bloodwork on Friday (Sean had a half day from work), but "right away" turned out to be at 3:15pm, and of course the lab closes as 3pm, so we had to get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday to get blood drawn. Oh, yeah-they also added some other tests to it, so I was having blood drawn for CMV, TSH, karyotyping and Fragile X (DNA). So, now I'm freaking out thinking that they're going to find some wacky genetic disorder and then we're screwed, because PGD isn't covered by insurance (as far as I know), and we don't have about $8,000 for it......

Hopefully it won't take 2-4 weeks. The intake person at the lab said that it should only take about a week, regardless of what the tests are, but the RE's office says it takes that long. So, in the meantime, I wait. Which it seems that I'm really really good at. And which will also put me squarely into September for an IVF cycle-right at the beginning of the school year. Just fucking brilliant.

Anyone want to take bets that perhaps this cycle isn't the best of ideas?

I Guess That Haircut Has To Wait

2007-07-22T11:03:00.001-04:00

BFN today, 12 DPO

I probably didn't even need to test, really, since I've been spotting brown since yesterday.

Ah, well-I guess it's on to Syringeville next month.....

To Pee, Or Not To Pee?

2007-07-20T11:44:00.000-04:00

"To pee, or not to pee, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the bladder to suffer
The emptying of urine without testing,
Or to use sticks against a tide of unsurety,

And by peeing, end them. To pee, to know;
The answer; and by peeing to say we end
the heart-ache and endless obsessing
That we infertiles are heiresses to-'tis an all-consuming

Desire to be had. To pee, to know;
To pee, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub;
For in using that HPT we can confirm what dreams may come...."
*shamelessly raped from Hamlet, Act III

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm going back and forth between obsessing over the last Harry Potter book and obsessing over whether or not to POAS-on the very last stick I have in the house, as a matter of fact. Since I can't afford to get any more pee-sticks, I'm trying to hold out as long as possible, but today's temptation is tough. I mean, it really IS too early, right? RIGHT?

Help me out here, people.

Let's obsess over potential signs and symptoms, shall we?

Spotting and cramping on 8dpo (and some residual today)? Check.
Ever-so-slightly-sore boobs? Check.
Frequent peeing? Check (although it just might be due to the amount of water I'm chugging down).
Sudden hunger pangs? Check.
Bloated a tiny bit? Check.
Can't stay up past 10pm? Check.

It could be PMS, but it could also be a BFP.

God, I loathe progesterone-it's the ultimate mind fuck.

Unless,of course, I really am the P word (I refuse to say it, I won't!).....then it could be my Bestest Friend in the World.

I'm still prepping for the call to the RE next week to start the Poonanny Circus that will come to be known as "IVF#4" . If things work the way they should (because let's face it-me getting "P" on a natural cycle is akin to pigs suddenly taking flight), you, my lucky friends, will get a chance to enter the "name my next IVF cycle" contest that I'm planning. The winner will get their slogan duly noted for posterity.

Hey, you've got to make SOMETHING about this crap fun where you can, right?

Totally Necessary Disclaimer: Okay, I freely admit-my iambic pentameter's not perfect, so if there are any English or Lit instructors out there, please please don't crucify me.

The Verdict, and Other Items of a Personal Nature

2007-07-18T18:36:00.000-04:00

So, did I like the movie, you asked?

Well......after seeing it a total of twice already (once with the loverly Shelli, and once with Sean), I have to say that I really did like it. Granted, there's a lot that's left out of the movie that is in the book, but I kind of expected that-it IS difficult to fit an 800+ page novel into a two hour and twenty minute movie. But.........I thought it was very well acted (you can see how, with age, the main characters have matured in their craft), was fast paced, and had a kick-ass final scene. Sean, who has never read the books (blasphemer!) remarked after seeing it that it left him wanting more, and I guess, in that regard, the movie succeeded. He also said that it was confusing to him in the sense that you didn't know what was going on specifically, but I assured him that the book was very much the same. The novel is a psychological/psychic mind screwing, really, so the movie does give you that slight paranoid feeling which is paralleled in the books.

So, yeah, I did like it. A lot. And now, we wait for the last novel.....

____________________________________________________

In Poonanny-related news, I am at 8DPO of what is probably the last cycle trying on our own before IVF#4. I think we did pretty well in terms of doing the sexy time on the correct days (with help from that handy-dandy Fertility Monitor). I'm feeling good (and lost 5 pounds to boot-yay!), but, of course, I just HAVE to have spotting and cramping today (the spotting is gone now, but I'm still slightly crampy)-I mean, why should I have a normal luteal phase like anyone else? Other than that, it's just the normal "am I or aren't I" obsessing over potential signs and symptoms that is par for the course at this point.

I had a haircut and color done today, and, whilst talking to my hairdresser about cutting off my hair, which comes up every now and then, I saw this FABULOUS haircut and color on a mannequin:

No, I didn't do it (although I was tempted to), but I made a deal with my hairdresser (who is in on my Infertility Adventure):

If I get knocked up, he can cut my hair in this exact style. No questions asked.

So, people-let's hope I get a makeover, STAT.

SQQUUUEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-07-10T09:03:00.000-04:00

It's here!!!! I'm so excited I could wet my panties!!!

TODAY HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX OPENS!!!!!

Well, technically.....it opens tomorrow. However, Shelli and I will be watching the 12:01am showing in Midtown.........and I get to have dinner and a sleepover too-WOOOOOOTTTT!!!

All this AND I got a "peak" on my monitor for the past two days............I just can't STAND all the excitement! Ah needs someone to pass me thuh vapors *fanning myself furiously whilst lying on a chaise in a gauzy dress trimmed with maribou feathers*

14 and a half more hours to go......

HR 2892

2007-06-28T21:04:00.000-04:00

In browsing my one of my favorite IVF boards, I came upon this thread in regards to the proposed Family Building Act of 2007, which could potentially mandate coverage for millions of currently uninsured infertiles (there's a lot of information as to how to lobby, in case you're a newbie).

I thank God every day that I live in one of the few states that requires insurance companies to cover infertility, and I know that if I weren't so lucky the dream of a family would be unreachable to Sean and I, since we could never afford to pay out of pocket for any of the tests, procedures and treatments throughout the past four years. There are so many of you out there who read this blog who go through that hell every day of your lives.............now, it's your chance to make a difference.

Lobby your congressperson. Let your voices be heard. Even if you're done building your families, or if you've decided to go on child-free....do it for every one of us, and for those who are as yet undiagnosed with this horrible disease.

Congress-make HR 2892 become Law! Let this country know that infertility IS a disease and should have the same coverage as any healthcare issue!

Bridezilla!

2007-06-27T08:53:00.000-04:00

Wow, A LOT has gone on in the last week and a half. But first, thanks for the comments. It's wonderful to know that there are so many of you who are in my corner, whatever the outcome. I love you all-I truly do. Let's hope, for all of our sakes, that these Infertili-versaries won't need to be remembered next year....

So.....let's backtrack, shall we?

It seems that I will now be Matron of Honor in not only one, but two weddings next year. M and Sexy J got engaged whilst on vacation in Rhode Island last week, and G and A told us last Friday that they were going to have a Civil Union ceremony in April '08, and want us to be their "Best Lady and Man". YAY!

Actually, I'm very happy for both couples. G and A are going to have something small at a Unitarian Church, with a reception in the church hall afterwards, and Sean and I get to help plan the reception, which is cool-Sean has got his set designing chops out as to how to transform the normally dark church hall into something beautiful (with the help of fabrics, of course!). We've written down some ideas, so once the boys come back from Hawaii we'll show them what we've got.

As for M, well.............she's a bit of a Bridezilla. I don't remember if she was this bad the first time around, but holy motherfucking shit! She JUST HAS to find the reception place because she JUST HAS to get married next October and it JUST HAS to be at a country club blah blah blee......

Now, I know that originally she didn't want a big deal, but since this is Sexy J's first time, she's having a wedding. She originally was going to marry in the Episcopal church (because she JUST HAS to marry in a church), since she's divorced and her annulment process hasn't finished yet, so at least she's come around and is going to marry at the reception place. She is driving me motherfucking nuts, she's had the ring on her finger for less than two weeks and she's already popping Tums like it's SweetTarts. The rate she's going, she won't worry about how the food tastes, because she won't have a stomach left.
c
She's also talking about getting liposuction if she can't lose weight by the wedding..........I shit you not. LIPO! And planning a WEDDING! And PAYING for it herself! She has gone off the deep end. I tried to be the Voice of Reason, but she's not in any frame of mind to take advice right now, so I'm backing off and letting the trainwreck start.

See, it's not that I don't love her like she's my sister. It's just that she is the type of person that is really into appearances, which is why I sometimes don't get her, because I really don't care what people think of me, my home, my wardrobe or my car. They don't live my life, so they can fuck themselves. But M is the opposite of me, which is okay (since we all can't be the same-how boring would that be?), but can be irritating. Like now. She's more worried about getting a raw bar than how much she's paying. Yesterday, when we were supposed to "dress shop" (I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a dirty spork) she decided that she wanted to go visit a wedding reception site. Now, she had an appointment for Thursday afternoon, but she didn't want to drag her daughter with them, so she called and asked if she could go that very moment. The guy was nice and said that he could squeeze us in. So off we went. I liked the place-the ceremony site was beautiful, the chef was originally from another well-known place, the bakery that makes the cakes is one we've both used before, and loved. The price was what she was looking for, too. So after we get the tour and spiel, I ask her what she thinks. She thinks for a moment, and says that the wallpaper downstairs in the cocktail rooms are "too gaudy" for her. Uh..........okay..........it IS a colonial mansion that's decorated in keeping with the period......what did you expect? Then she starts going on about how the dresses have to match the decor and blah blah blah.

See what I mean? Here's her first and second choices. I like the first, the second is okay, but-it's not my wedding, so whatever she picks is her decision. She's all hung up on having foliage, since it's an October wedding, however she's planning for the first Friday in October, and there won't be much on the trees yet. The mansion place has tons of seasonal flowers, which is nice.

Whatever. I'm just annoyed that she changes our plans, drags me up and back (in traffic) to a place that she doesn't like very much. I guess that's just part of the Matron of Honor duties, right?

Oh, well........at least school's out.

Infertili-versary

2007-06-19T20:56:00.000-04:00

Well, since we're now chugging towards the end of June, I'm also coming up on a pretty significant date: it marks my 5 year "anniversary" of my infertility diagnosis. Actually, I think the actual "date" is early next week, but I refuse to even try to find out when that specific day is-what's the point, right?

I've recently been thinking a lot about all that has transpired in those 60 months-the months of trying, temping (thank GOD I don't even bother with that crap anymore), getting over the "ewww" factor of having to stick my fingers in my cooter to check my mucus, the doctors, doctors and MORE doctors, and having every medical instrument known to mankind introduced to my poonanny. Then, let's factor in the IVF cycles, the OHSS and having to get a liter of fluid drained from my abdomen, the FET and, later, miscarriage, the two subsequent IVF failures and 4 failed FET's that followed.

The heartache, pain, fear, tears and suffering. The anticipation, and the eventual letdown when my period arrived. The building of hope and dashing of it with that red flow. Walking that fine line between sanity and jumping over the edge. The uncertainty of what the outcome of all those pills, injections, and invasion to my Private Lady Parts will eventually be.

My infertility diagnosis has changed me, that is for certain. I'm cautious, and not as likely to share things with others when it comes to babies and families. I avoid the baby sections of department stores; I try, whenever possible, not to go to baby showers or visit newborns and new mothers. I've developed a wall of self-preservation. I try to keep out the things that will make my heart hurt.

I've stopped dreaming of a family. I refuse to place even a hand on my belly to wonder on it, as I'm lying in bed waiting to fall asleep. I try to accept that what will be will be, that I can't change my fate. That I need to be patient, and hold on to the hope that "good things come to those who wait".

However, I've learned a lot about myself too; things that I wouldn't have ever found out had I not been infertile. I can inject meds faster than Billy the Kid on speed. I can take PIO injections WITHOUT icing my ass, thankyouverymuch. Also, my ovaries are the Queen of Overcompensation. And let's not forget that I'm a Card-Carrying Member of the Dildocam Club.

But, I've learned other things, too. I have a more of a sense of fighting for what I really want, and how lucky I am that I live in a state that has mandated infertility coverage. That I have a strong marriage to a man that loves me for ME, not just for my (broken) girly bits. That it just might be okay if we can't have children. Not easier, but we have each other, at least.

I have real friends who support me in whatever path I choose. I have met so many people who are just like me-some have had success and are currently holding their babies in their arms, some are currently pregnant and loving it, and some haven't reached their goal. And, I'm blessed to know them, and their families-and I wouldn't have ever met them (online or in "real" life) if I hadn't been diagnosed as infertile. They've made me laugh when I was feeling like shit, and they've made me cry when hearing about their own loss and pain. It's like being in a sorority-everyone is different, yet you have that one thing that unites you, that defines you as a group. And, like a sorority, once you're initiated, you're a member for life.

I've learned compassion. And strength-strength that I never knew I had. If I can handle this, I can take anything. I've also learned that life is too damn short, and to have no regrets about anything.

Do I still feel envious of other's success? Do I still have days that I feel shame with my "situation"? Do I still get angry? Sure-I'm only human, after all. It's normal. But, I've learned not to take it personally. I've been dealt a shitty hand, but I'm trying my best to make lemonade from the mound of lemons in front of me.

I really feel that, lately, I'm in a better place. I don't know if it's due to the repeated HSG and results, or that I'm coming to terms with my infertility and it's place in my life. I'm not letting it rule over me as I once did; in fact, I'm slowly learning to coexist peacefully with it, like an eccentric grandmother who likes to wash used tinfoil, fold it up and put it away in a drawer (okay.......maybe that's just MY grandmother who did that. I'm not kidding-after she died we found an ENTIRE DRAWER FILLED with little folded squares of tinfoil. I shit you not-I can't make that up.). You just accept the weirdness, because it ain't gonna change. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, and it's the same with infertility-it's not going to be cooperative when you want it to be.

Oh...............did I mention that I'm 11DPO? Yeah. Don't get all antsy in the pantsy, though-I had my usual PMS migraine last night, and some cramping/slight brownish mucus today. So, I'm probably out for this cycle, and probably on the way to IVF #4. And, I'm okay with that. Disappointed, but okay.

So, yeah.............infertility does still suck. But, maybe it'll still end up okay, after all.

Violation

2007-06-04T15:44:00.000-04:00

And I'm not talking the dildocam-in-your-va-jay-jay kind of violation.

We arrived home last night around 6:45 to find that our front door wasn't pulled closed. After confirming that we did, in fact lock the door behind us earlier that day, we also saw that our inner foyer door was also open (with a bewildered Buddy standing in the foyer), and then, we saw the sight that made our hearts sink into our toes.

Our back door was wide open, with the moldings and part of the frame ripped from the plaster wall. Our house was broken into while we were gone for the afternoon.

911 was called, we were advised out of the house, and the police were there within minutes. It was a shocking site to see one of the officers draw his pistol while going up the stairs to our second floor (I hastily told him that Peachy was probably hiding under our bed), and, after the house was shown to be empty, we were allowed back inside.

Now, here is the amazing part of this whole thing-nothing was taken. Nothing. Everything was in the place (albeit messy) that we left it in that morning. My car keys were on the peg, the laptop was in its spot in the living room, Sean's tools were in the foyer. All the jewelry, mail and passports still in their hiding places. My infertility meds and sharps were still in their cupboard (gotta check for that, right?).

So, what happened, you wonder? Well, so did we. The police told us that something must have startled whoever it was and they left out the front door. It could have been the cats upstairs on the hardwood floor, a neighbor coming home (both were out for the day); whatever the reason, we were spared from the added disaster of losing valuables precious to both of us. We were also told that there has been a rash of burglaries in our neighborhood lately (and another one across town), so they would "be keeping an eye on things". Needless to say, not one police car cruised by our house last night or today. Great.

Sean spent three hours last night reinforcing the doorjam and frame with steel rods and 2-by-4's-he said that when they replaced the kitchen door they didn't really stabilize it correctly, which was why the intruder was able to smash their way through ( you can see the dent above the doorknob where it is obvious some kind of object was used). I, of course, couldn't get to sleep and finally dropped off at around 4am, after calling out of work-there was NO WAY that I was leaving the house the next morning for work.

It could have been a lot worse-we could've been in the house when it happened, or come home to find them; one of us could've been hurt. So, we're thankful for that. However, that feeling of being violated is something that is harder to shake. I no longer feel safe. I loathe the fact that someone forced their way into our home with the intention of stealing our things. I'm bitter and angry that I'm now fearful of being here alone, or at night.

So, after Sean finishes the bathroom this week, we're cleaning out the basement, and putting the house up for sale (probably within the next month or so). We've been batting the idea around for awhile (in fact, yesterday afternoon we were talking about how we were willing to wait until next year to move, to allow more time to fix up the house and find something new that we really want), but now, this break-in is the catalyst we needed to get our asses in gear.

Time for a change. Not the change we hoped for, but perhaps it will lead to better things for us, all around.

Leak Week

2007-05-25T10:52:00.000-04:00

Cycle day 1 is here again,
The uterine highway is clear again,
So come sing along, we'll try again,
Cycle Day 1 is here again!

So, in honor of that annual tradition here in the Tri-State area called Fleet Week (where hundreds of hottie sailors roam the streets of NYC looking for a good time), I had my own dishonorable discharge, but from the Uterine Navy.

Yes folks, we've got bleeding! It started this morning, after the usual spotting/killer "progesterone is falling" headache last night. Oddly though, there isn't a lot of cramping or bloating, but that's a good thing.

How do I feel about this? I mean, since we actually made a go of having "baby making sex" this month? Surprisingly, I'm not really upset that my period is here. Really. Now, pick yourselves up off of the floor and check your panties for skids, because I'm not kidding. SERIOUSLY.

I really didn't expect it to work this month-not because I'm being all Miss Negativity and Doom and Gloom (which I'm good at, I know). But, I usually have ovulation pain, and I had it on my left side this month (the blocked side), and, since there's only a slight chance (around 5%) that an egg will migrate and be swept up into a good tube, I kinda had a feeling that the odds wouldn't be in my favor this month. So, we'll give it the good 'ol college try again this cycle, with the added bonus of using that handy-dandy digital fertility monitor that I have (once I can dig it out of wherever the hell it's cowering in fear)-I've forgotten how much I hate OPK's and the "is-it-or-is-it-not-a-surge" game. C'mon, you KNOW what I'm talking about-that little ritual where you hold the OPK up to the light source of your choice, squint at the stick and use quantum physics to determine whether or not the line is AS DARK OR DARKER than the control line. You end up looking like one of those Central Park painters who hold out their paintbrushes to "find the right angle" in their subject. You get the mental image, right?

I'm not devastated that it didn't work this month. I was contemplating doing another cycle this month (the last day to start stims at my clinic before they close is June 11th) and bypassing this TTC shit, but something is telling me to hold off one more month, to wait until they reopen in July. And, I'm okay with that-I need more time to relax, maybe lose a few more pounds, center myself a bit more, enjoy part of the summer IVF-free. And, I have to listen to that little voice more than I do, because it's most often right (which was another thing that the Tarot reader told me). I'm still feeling the good Va-jay-jay juju and all that. I just need to enjoy the good mojo feeling a little more, so I can figure out how to channel that into an IVF cycle. If it gets to another cycle, I mean.

And so, here I am-sitting on my parent's couch at the Jersey Shore watching bad daytime TV, with the dog sleeping next to me and waiting for my mother to come home from work to do a little retail therapy. Since we only used two of the allotted five snow days built into our schedule this year, our district gave us a little Memorial Day Break, with today and Tuesday off. So, I decided to drive down here after work on Thursday and go home tomorrow night, in time for church on Sunday. Then Monday at G&A's, and Tuesday to hang out at home. Then, we're in the home stretch with 17 days left of school (actually, only 10 full days of school and 7 half day sessions), and I'm officially on break, with my (hopefully not-so) fat ass in a bathing suit on the beach with a trashy novel.

Oh, yeah, and sex. LOTS of sex. Because life is for living, right?

A-Buh-Bye, Evil Eye!

2007-05-21T23:05:00.000-04:00

I am, apparently, just about cured of the Xema. Today's findings in the water glass showed two drops of oil, along with a few smaller droplets floating on the surface of the water. I need to go one more time, then I should be evil-eye free!

Thank fucking GOD. I was beginning to think that I was seriously screwed there.

So.......wanna hear about my Tarot card reading? Huh? Do ya?

I left off in my tale with me hauling ass to the New Age shop for another bracelet (which is now FIRMLY lodged on my left wrist). While I was there I bought another one titled "miracles", because........well......I figured that it was good to hedge my bets, ya know? Plus, it was green and purple and SO cute....

Anyway, the store still looked open, and the sign was still up, so I opened the door, only to find out that they were, in fact, closed. I offered to come back the next day, but the owner said not to worry about it, since the register wasn't closed out yet. As I was buying the bracelet, she pointed out a new bracelet they got in, which was an "evil eye" bracelet (it kinda looks like this). I get a few emails from the store too, so I inquired about a reader that they were having the next day, and the owner told me that she JUST HAPPENED to have one appointment left in her schedule, so I snapped it up.

I showed up on Sunday and met the woman for the reading. Now, I'm not a Tarot-a-holic, so I'm not up on the specifics on how to read each and every card, but every card that she put out pointed toward a new opportunity for me, creatively, and that right now, whatever I want is within my grasp-all I have to do is focus my energy into it, and it's all mine. I did ask about the baby thing, and, after pulling more cards, she told me that I did have a good doctor and I was in the right place for things to happen. The cards did show me to be successful, but that I had to be patient. She also said that I needed to be more open spiritually and not let other people's negativity drag me down, especially at work. She felt that these negative thoughts might potentially affect my health in one way or another. She suggested sending petitions and anointing a candle and lighting it to the Archangel Raphael in regards to my infertility, so of course I left the store with those things firmly in my shopping bag (candle and oil, I mean).

Oh, yeah, and I need to take pleasure in more things in a creative way. And that my husband rocks. Can't get much better than that, right?

Now, here's some freaky shit that's just up Watson's alley. This happened about a week and a half ago, but I didn't have time to post it:

'Lil' Man (my BIL) called one night to talk to Sean, and, while they were bullshitting, he asked how/where we are in the babymaking process. Sean just said that we were gearing up for another cycle (not that we had the HSG or the results of that). 'Lil' Man then said that he had a very vivid dream the night before that I was pregnant and that we waited to tell people (he said because we were afraid to) until it was so obvious that we couldn't hide it anymore. He said that we knew the gender, but weren't telling anyone, and that it was so realistic it woke him up out of a sound sleep, and, for a moment, he wasn't sure if he had just dreamed it or if it really happened.

Freaky, huh? Can these signs all be pointing toward something?

Maybe. It's not to say that it will happen immediately, because I'm certainly not expecting it to. It's hard to explain, but lately I feel "lighter", less stressed out. Perhaps my mental state is attributing to it, who knows. But I really feel that all these things aren't coincidences, and that there is a light at the end of the tunnel for me, and that we will soon know the ending of this chapter.

Or else I'm a SERIOUS sort of crazy. Take your pick.

Shit Storm

2007-05-20T20:55:00.000-04:00

About a month or so ago, during Spring Break, I went to lunch with a friend, and afterwards we wandered up the street to find this little New-Age type store. We went in, and I ended up buying a Karma Bracelet, which was made of hematite. The woman behind the counter said that it would absorb negative energy from me and those around me, and, when it was "finished" absorbing that negativity, it would break.

Curiously, from the moment I put it on, I wasn't having such shitty days at work. The problem kids were actually pleasant to me. I got the good HSG results, we did the sexing numerous times and numerous ways.

No problems, right?

Until the bracelet broke on Monday night. I was taking it off when it got caught on my watchband and snapped-hematite beads rolling all over the hardwood floor.

On Tuesday, I had an issue with a student. Later that morning, he ran into me while going with his class into the cafeteria, promptly starting screaming that I "hit him", then threatened to slap me. All this, from a ten-year old. So, I had to deal with the aftermath of that, which meant dealing with the principal, the parent, suspension, did I want to PRESS CHARGES..........ergh.

Last night, the neighbors had a birthday party for their teenage daughter/step-daughter and all of her friends, and JUST HAD to blast House music and scream for about two hours. In surburbia, this is a definite no-no, so Sean had to get up and go next door and tell them to cut the shit out. So, let's just say that neighbor relations are not going well around here.

Now, the main sewer line in our basement has decided to back up onto the basement floor. It does drain, albeit slowly. Needless to say, we're currently waiting for a call from a 24-hour plumber, who will surely financially try to rape us for what I'm sure will end up being a simple15 minute job unclogging the drain to allow the yummy "soup" to go through the pipes and out to the street.

Oh, yeah......did I also mention that I'm in the 2WW, and I've been spotting/staining (not majorly, just on the toilet paper, or a slight stain on the panties) since Friday afternoon? Cramping, too. And, I'm not due for my period until Thursday at the earliest, so WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?

Coincidence? Maybe. But I quickly hauled ass back to the store last night for a new bracelet, and other goodies. Better safe than sorry.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the next installment of "My Foray into New Age Mysticism-The Evil Eye Update, Guardian Angel candles and Tarot Readings Galore"-whee!

*Watson-I know that you totally live for this shit, so if you can drag your ass out of that first-trimester coma, have fun reading!

PoonannyPalooza 2007

2007-05-03T16:43:00.000-04:00

I've learned three important things during yesterday's coochie-fest:

1. Valium is the awesomist drug ever fabricated by mankind.
2. Do NOT take your mother to your exam and dildocam wanding and act as your official drive home person. Especially my mother-BAD idea. I'd rather eat lint out of my belly button.
3. Hydrogen peroxide is GREAT for removing blood from your white sports socks.

My mother (also known as the "designated driver") showed up at my house after 11 am due to nasty traffic on the Garden State Parkway, which put us running late. Since I know that she is the slowest person in the history of the state of New Jersey when driving, I offered to drive to Dr. Pipsqueak's office. Plus, I must confess, I wanted the opportunity to drive her bitchin' BMW X3. So, I spent the next twenty-five minutes or so with her nagging me that I was driving "too fast" and that she gets nervous when in the passenger seat. Short of pulling over on the highway and stuffing her ass in the trunk, we made it to the hospital in time, with me relishing the thought of taking that one Valium stashed in my purse.

Once I get there, Dr. Pipsqueak informed me that we weren't doing the saline sono, only an exam and a date with the dildocam, then the HSG. She leads me (and mom) into the room, where I strip down to my goodies and put on that oh-so stylin' robe they have. Nursey then comes in to take the vitals-height, and weight. I hem and haw, since I am seriously allergic to scales, so the nurse tells me to give a ballpark figure............so I blurt out: 140 lbs.

Only to hear my mother pipe up: "Wow, that's a LOT".

Then the conversation ensues:

"Well, didn't you USED to weigh like 110 lbs?"
"Yeah mom, in college, when I smoked and didn't eat. It's mostly boob weight, I guess"
"More like from the waist down. Your legs got big."
"Yeah, well mom, you shoot up fertility drugs and tell me if you don't gain any weight".
"Well, when you started teaching you DID gain a bit"
"Uh.....I'm on my feet all day, how would that happen?"
"Oh..........well, maybe it's muscle weight then......."

Now, mind you, this is going on while the nurse is trying to take my blood pressure. I still don't understand how it stayed low-I was sure that my head was about to explode.

Anyway, that part (with the exception of my mother's diarreha of the mouth) went well. I've got a couple of follicles happily buzzing away in the ovaries, the cyst on the left ovary is still there, but no larger, the usual. Then it was off to admitting in the main hospital for the HSG. I check in, get my pass, down the Anaprox and Valium and trundle down to radiology to start my trip to Shiny Happy Land. And, trust me, I didn't have to wait long for that.

The next thing I know my mother is calling my name to tell me that it's time to go-apparently, I fell asleep for about 10 minutes. Nice radiology nurse has to lead me down the hall, since I almost ran into the wall (whoops!). She hands me a gown, shows me to the bathroom and tells me to remove everything from the waist down, but I can leave my socks on. As I leave the bathroom, Dr. C shows up and asks how I am, at which point I tell her that I'm in my happy place (which got a laugh).

I get settled up onto the table (NO stirrups, just some towels to prop up my butt, and my legs in the "frog position"), they put in the speculum and explain the whole procedure. Then, Dr. C warns me that the injection of Lidocaine is about to be administered.

Holy motherfucking OUCH! That shit sobered me up, let me tell you. But, then the catheter was inserted and I thankfully felt nada. And then, the dye was injected, which was bearable but not entirely comfortable. Turned to the left, turned to the right. It was done in less than 10 minutes. Everything was pulled out, and Dr. C warned me that perhaps I might need to change my socks when I got home, since when they pulled everything out they got splattered---great. Then she told me that she would go over the results with the radiologist and Dr. Pipsqueak, but also reviewed the films with me right then and there on the screen.

My left tube is blocked. It looked like a sausage at the bottom where the dye collected. I was told that normally they would remove the tube to prevent the fluid from washing back into the uterus, but since they've never seen the hydro during the stim cycle that perhaps they'd leave it alone, but couldn't give me a definite answer either way. Honestly, if it's crap, take it out, and the ovarian cyst on that side right along with it. Hmmm.....perhaps that "cyst" is part of the hydro?

And the right one, which wasn't visualized on the first HSG and was assumed to be a proximal blockage?

Open. Completely and utterly open. The dye passed easily through and into the abdominal cavity. She even suggested that we try on our own, since an HSG tends to slightly increase pregancy rates.

I was in shock. I started to cry right then and there. I tried to apologize, but I told her that we basically stopped trying on our own, since we were told many times that there was no reason to. She pointed to the screen, then took my hand and said to me, "Well, you do definitely have a shot on your own-you only need one good tube, so why not try?"

Why not? Perhaps the xematiasma is working and the curse is slowly being lifted.

It gave me hope that perhaps this will work out for me, after all.

Xematiasma

2007-05-02T10:09:00.000-04:00

It seems, people, that there is a reason for my troubles. And it's fucking weird as hell, so strap yourselves in for this one.....

Friday afternoon I got a phone call from a friend I teach with (she teaches art in my school). (Just a little background-she's been out on child rearing leave since she had her son back in September, and started working again yesterday). She told me that she had to take her son to the doctor that morning, and her mother tagged along, and that my name came up in conversation. Her mother asked how long we were trying to get pregnant, blah blah blah...........and then she told her daughter that she thought that perhaps I had "the mati" and she wanted to see me to find out by doing something called the "xematiasma".

Now, for anyone out there who has no idea what I'm talking about, it's the Greek version of the "evil eye". We Italians call it "malocchio", and it's a common belief in Meditteranean and Middle Eastern cultures. When I was a kid it was a common thing in my mother's family-it was said that if someone "overlooked you" (ie. coveted you or something of yours) they could give you the evil eye. Many times, when I had a horrible headache or didn't feel well, my grandparents would say that I had "the eyes", then they would take a possession of mine, and say prayers over it to get rid of it. I distinctly remember watching them do if for people (the affected person doesn't have to be in the room, by the way), and as they silently said the prayers, their eyes would start to stream with tears, they would yawn incessantly, and do that dry spitting thing that Nia Vardalos made famous in her movie. So, the point is, once my friend explained what the mati was I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I didn't think she was nuts..

So, what did I do, you're wondering. Well, I booked my ass over there with her yesterday afternoon after school to see her mother. And it was the freakiest thing EVER.

She came out into the living room with a glass of water and some olive oil on a spoon. Then, she made the sign of the cross (Orthodox version, of course) three times, said a silent prayer, made the sign of the cross again three times. She then dipped her pinky finger into the oil, and dropped the oil into the water. Then she repeated it three times.

Now, all you science people out there-what happens when you place a drop of oil into a glass of water? It floats on the surface, right? Well, each time she did that , the oil dropped into the bottom of the glass, and stayed there. STAYED THERE. Weird, right? The last time, just to show me, she did it to herself, and the drop of the oil floated on the surface of the water. As she went through the ritual, she kept saying "Oh, my God", then said something to my friend in Greek.

Apparently, I have the evil eye. Bad. I have to go back two more times for her to do it again.

Now, realistically I know that it can't be possible, but you know what weirder shit has happened. And, it's not altogether implausible that someone's bad thoughts or malicious intentions can affect another person. But make them infertile? Huh?

So, after this weirdness I called my mother to tell her about this, and she ACTUALLY AGREED. My mother then tells me that she's convinced that someone put a fattura on me (it means "spell" in Italian) and she's almost positive she knows who it is.

Here's where the story get's weirder, like sicko weird-so bear with me.

My mother is convinced that my father's grandmother put the fattura on me as a child. When I was really small (from birth to about 6 years old) we lived with my father's grandmother's house (she lived downstairs, we lived upstairs). She wasn't a nice woman (she was a midwife), really-the little I remember of her she was constantly yelling and screaming at us, and telling our parents that we were horrible children. Anyways.........when I was six or so we moved out of that house to another town to live in my mother's grandmother's house, in Orange, NJ. My father's grandmother apparently told her daughter-in-law (my dad's mother) "Go ahead, let them move there.........and I hope S gets raped when they're there, too!" Nice, huh? My mother said that, ever since that day, our family has had bad luck.

I called my friend last night to talk to her about it, and relayed what my mother said about my great-grandmother and the fattura. She then got freaked out and said, "well, didn't you hear what my mother said?". I told her that they were talking in Greek (which she didn't realize). She then said that her mother told her, "She's got it bad. It's really old, and been there for LONG time". She said that her mother is CONVINCED that this is the reason I can't get pregnant.

Even Sean, who said that he "neither believes or disbelieves" this, said that it's entirely possible.

So, the upshot is that I've been cursed, probably by my evil great-grandmother, and I'm going this week to my friends Greek mother to get it removed.

Yeah.

I'll let you know how it plays out. So, if anyone out there knows how to remove a curse, please let me know-I'd like to hedge my bets, if you know what I mean.

Now, I'm off to PoonannyPalooza 2007 (saline sono and HSG day-hooray!). If I'm not too fucked up from Captain Valium and the Anaprox, I'll be back later to update you on that hot steaming pile of mess.

Hell, who am I kidding-I'll post later..........just for the sheer entertainment value of blogging on meds. I'm sure you all will be amused, anyway.

Defeated

2007-04-30T15:41:00.000-04:00

That pretty much sums up how I've been feeling lately.

Today was actually a good day, as far as work goes. Except for the usual baby/pregancy talk, which inevitably happens in a faculty room. This time, it's a girl who was talking about how she and her husband are going to start trying in the summer, and how she's afraid that it won't happen right away, blah blah blee......so then it ultimately starts the "well, your egg quality goes down the older you get...." conversation, and how it was SO HARD when they didn't get pregnant right away and they thought SOMETHING WAS WRONG with them when it didn't happen that first month......and how they feel SO BADLY for me and my "situation"......

You know the drill. I don't need to go on, right? I just crammed my sandwich in my mouth to refrain from motherfucking them up and down, and got the hell out of Dodge.

Then, another teacher, a mother of three, who remarked on the bracelets that I was wearing: "God, how do you find the time to accesorize in the morning? I'm lucky I have clean underwear on.....". Yeah, well, when you're barren, it gives me a lot of time in the mornings to lounge out in my silk robe and ostrich-trimmed mules, idly picking out jewelry from a muscled hunk wearing no shirt.....NOT.

And, the third.......well, I just don't know how to feel about this. I (stupidly) did an audition at a theatre where I used to do A LOT of work. I stopped auditioning there when I was very obviously passed over for a part due to a snit between a director and producer, so it was a "tit for tat" situation. Well, my stupid ass decided to give it another try, and I was called back for a great part. A part that I did a really great callback for. And, didn't get the part-which, isn't the shitty part. The shitty part is that they offered it to a friend of mine, who DIDN'T EVEN AUDITION FOR THAT PART. She was going for another one, so they gave her a consolation prize, basically. Which she decided to accept. After she told me that if she didn't get XYZ part (the one she really wanted) she didn't want to do a show. Yeah, that lasted long. She actually emailed me and told me, and I really don't know how to respond to it. On one hand, I'm really upset and I want to call her out on it, but on the other hand, would I do the same thing? Probably not-I'm not in the habit for accepting roles that I'm not sure I'm right for. Plus, we're supposed to go out to a black-tie thingie with them on Sunday, and quite frankly, if I hadn't already spent money on a dress I'd tell her to piss off.

And, let's add into the mix that my HSG and saline sonogram are on Wednesday, I'm on Doryx again and it's seriously fucking up my stomach. I can't even take it with yogurt, since it says on the bottle not to take vitamins, antacids or dairy within two hours of taking the antibiotics.

*Sigh* It just seems a bit much sometimes, and sometimes just going from day to day is an exhausting chore.

Dude, I Can't Make This Shit Up Myself

2007-04-19T22:12:00.000-04:00

I had one of my kindergarten classes on Tuesday afternoon. Their teacher, who is also a friend of mine, has a daughter who is a Music Ed. major in undergrad. Her daughter (let's call her Smiley, because she's cheerful and always has a smile on her face) has come into my classroom from time to time with her boyfriend (another Music Ed major) during her school breaks to observe the goings-on in my classes and pick up any pointers (which are ALWAYS eye-opening, I'm sure, since I'm a nutjob). Well, Smiley is now doing her senior field work, in preparation for graduating next month, and has been placed in a suburban district that's close to NYC. She started out in the high school and is now in the elementary schools (which is pretty typical in a program, since here in NJ Music, Art and PE teacher licenses are valid for teaching Kindergarten through 12th grade). So, her mother (my teacher friend) tells me that Smiley is starting to realize just how tough Elementary Ed can be, and how you need to be on your toes at all times.

She told her mother that she was observing the Cooperating Teacher one day last week in a primary lesson (I'm not sure if it was Kindergarten or 1st Grade), and she was teaching the song "Little Bunny Foo-Foo" to the class. She gets through the first two stanzas of the song with the children, then, just before she gets to the last verse (where Little Bunny Foo-Foo is turned into a Goon),she asks the class, "So, boys and girls, what do you think happens to Little Bunny Foo-Foo?"

And, one of the children promptly raises his hand and says:

"Little Bunny Foo-Foo's fucked!"

I swear to you, this is TRUE. Even I'm not that creative.

This, my friends, is the "educational miracle" that is the No Child Left Behind Law. Way to go, Dubya!