It Didn't Work

That pretty much sums it up, right?

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

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

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

Thanks, God. For nada.

10dp3dt-The End is Near

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

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

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

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

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

**UPDATED**

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

9dp3dt-Progesterone is Evil

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

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

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

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

Anywhoo.....

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

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

Then Monday-beta day.

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

7dp3dt-BFN#1

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

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

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

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

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

So, reassure me..........it IS too early, right? RIGHT??

4dp3dt-Aje!

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

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

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

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

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

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

3dp3dt-Yet Another Example of Spousal Insanity

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

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

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

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

2dp3dt-Groundhog Day

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

Sore, angry boobies? Check.

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

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

Feeling like a fat, bloated pig? Check.

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

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

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

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

The Last Great Hope

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

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

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

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

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

God's Payback

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

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

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

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

Him: "Not so bad..........wow, was I gassy today!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Last, and Yet Least

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let the fun begin.

2006 Can Kiss My Saggy Fat Ass

Well, on my little hiatus I did a lot of thinking. And drinking. LOTS of drinking, because, let's face it-2006 sucked large hairy wrinkly testicles. And, here's what I came up with:

* I need to start blogging more often. I've missed it, even though I have been reading your blogs, I've been neglectful of my own. So, no more silences. I need the emotional release of it.
* I'm tired of worrying and stressing about this. I'm not getting any younger, and the stress is worse than the trying to conceive crap. I'm going to start 2007 trying to worry less.
* I'm sick of planning my life around whether or not my reproductive system is going to cooperate. It might never happen, so I can't deny myself opportunities just because I "might" get pregnant. Broadway, here I come! No, seriously, I need to take more time for me, and for my relationship with Sean.
*I am a fat pig. No really. Okay, perhaps I'm exaggerating a bit, but we all know that ART treatments pack on the pounds (especially those meds). I've decided to take advantage of our union's deal with a popular area gym and join. I used to belong to another gym, and I did feel more empowered and active. Also, since it seems as if my boobages have grown yet another cup size (we're up to DD's now), I need to lose the boob blubber, or else I'll be scooping them off the floor, putting them in bonnets and a stroller and tell everyone that they're twins. Not cool.
* I'm getting a bit weary on the job front. Not my actual job, because I love to teach. I think, however, that perhaps the place I'm in isn't for me. There's a lot of politics abound. And yes, I know that it's everywhere, but it's so blatant here. Let's just say that it's so blatant that it's a joke in other districts. Perhaps a change of scenery is best.
* Our bathroom sucks. We're (or should I say, the lovely Sean) renovating it, because......
* We've come to the conclusion that we've outgrown the house we're in. How we can come to that conclusion based on the fact that, well, we haven't actually added people to this "family" (I'm not counting my boobs. Yet.) I have no idea, but it looks as if we're going to put the house on the market by February or March. We've alreadly found a house we love one town over, that's been on the market for almost a year and needs a lot of work. Perfect. Also, we know someone who knows the current owner, so that's a plus for us (we hope).

So, based on all of this thinking, what's the solution, you're wondering?

Well, why not do another frozen cycle, for starters! WOOT! Yeah, I'm a glutton for punishment. Don't remind me.

I finally had my "failed cycle" appointment yesterday. It was rescheduled because Dr. Pipsqueak had a surgery that was moved up, so I got bumped. After the whole conversational redux of "well, I don't know why it didn't work, the embryos were wonderful, your lining was perfect, hormones good", which we got earlier in the summer, I found out that none of the other 2pn embryos made it to blast. Which means that we have 6 day 3's left. So, she gave me the choice of either a medicated or non-medicated cycle for the next one. Since there really is no medical reason for me to do a medicated cycle (hormone levels are great, no lining issues, no extra long cycles), I immediately chose another natural cycle. It also gives the advantage that we aren't going to tell anyone about this one (present company excluded of course-I mean family or friends), since we won't have to rely on anyone giving me ass-shots. Of course, it does have the disadvantage that I have to be pretty much moving in to the clinic, since I'll be there almost every morning for bloodwork, but it could be worse. I could be doing another fresh cycle, which would be depressing as hell. So, we're looking at a transfer sometime in February, once my period comes (which will be sometime in the middle to end of January). And, hopefully we could squeeze another one in before the lab closes again (another advantage to a natural cycle), assuming that we don't lose too many of these embryos.

One thing that she did say is that she still feels that it will work. My eggs were retrieved at what are still considered a "young" age, she doesn't want to try PGD (which is great, since it ain't covered under insurance and we don't have $7K of "fuck you" money lying around) as she feels it wouldn't help, and the quality of eggs and sperm, and uterus aren't the issue. It's just, as she reiterated, just bad luck. We did discuss the 2 embryo vs. 3 embryo transfer, and we left the discussion at what she sees at transfer time. If the thawed embryos aren't great, we'll do three. If they're great, we'll do 2, because adding one more isn't going to increase chances of my getting pregnant, it'll only increase the likelihood of triplets, and all I want is a healthy child, not a litter, at least if I can help it.

We did have a nice chat afterwards though-I guess it's the upside of having one the last appointments. She asked how my break was, about my singing (I found out that Dr. C sang with an a capella group while still in school) and told me about her ski trip out West (although she luckily didn't get caught in the blizzard hell, she was delayed in Texas coming home). She also asked about my job, and I regaled her with tales of my students, and she was in hysterics about my some of my more......uh.......interesting kids. Like the kindergartner I have who is a streaker. I shit you not. The primary classrooms all have bathrooms, and this kid has a habit of going in to do his business, then takes off his pants and underwear, and proceeds to run out of the bathroom naked from the waist down and runs around the classroom. Yeah. And the child study team says that there's "nothing wrong with him". Riiiight.......

So, other than that, the break was blah. I did get sick on Christmas Day and spent most of it in a cold-medicine-induced haze. I lost my voice and everything, and the family kept calling me "Kathleen Turner" all night. Turns out I had a sinus infection. Yay. So I spent the next 5 days on mega dose horsepills of antibiotics. And then I got plastered on New Year's and felt slightly hungover the next day. And, that's it.

I hope that you all had a decent holiday. Now, let's all give the finger to '06, and tell it to screw.

Kiss my ass, 2006. Here's hoping 2007 brings all of us better days ahead.