"Now, if You'll Just open your Mouth wide enough to get that Foot to fit right in...."

I know that I haven't posted in awhile, and I do apologize, but I had jury duty, beginning Tuesday-I was unlucky to actually get chosen for a case. Actually, that's not altogether true. I was lucky, in a way-if I hadn't been chosen for a jury, I'd have to come back the next day. Due to the backlog of cases because of the shutdown of the NJ State Government ten days ago, I would have ended up being picked for Grand Jury-an eight week ordeal that would have, quite frankly, sucked large testicles.

On the FET front, I'm still waiting for my period to show-it should be here from today onward. Since I've given up charting my temps (I haven't done that in almost a year now.....what's the point?) I'm not exactly sure when I ovulated, but once it shows up I go in for CD 3 bloodletting and wanding, then I get to start those lovely BCP's. I'm looking forward to getting things started, to finally get to some kind of outcome. I don't like being in limbo.

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I'm sure you'll all remember my slight dilemma that I posted about. Now, I don't know if I should feel like an big asshole or a slight asshole. I got a phone call the other day from M, and, while in the middle of a converstation with her, she made the comment ".....well, now that I can't have any more children". Of course, I then had to ask her what she meant. Our twato called her back with results of the bloodwork she did-her FSH was 68, and the twato advised her that she was going through early menopause, will be putting her back on BCP's for estrogen replacement, and also wants to refer her to the IF clinic I am currently a patient for a full workup, since she's undecided as to whether she's having more children (she'd be seeing my RE, who is also head of the egg donor program). Now, I'm not sure how it works in a situation like this-would an RE see a patient about infertility who isn't actively trying to concieve?

So, I pretty much told her how I felt-that she's not married, unsure whether or not she would marry the guy she's seeing currently, and already has a child-is she worrying about this because she really wants to marry Sexy J and have more kids, or is it because someone told her that she couldn't have any more (her own words, not mine)? She's totally the type of person that, when told that she can't do something, she'd do it anyway to prove whoever it is that they're wrong. I then told her that she doesn't know whether or not she still couldn't have children, as she's not actively trying to get pregnant (plenty of menopausal women conceive those "late in life" babies when they thought that their reproductive systems were almost shut down), and would they be able to accurately do hormone testing if she were back on the Pill?

She tried to compare me to her, but I stopped it right then and there-I bluntly told her that what I was going through and this are in no way similar-she's looking at it from the viewpoint of someone who already has a child, whereas I have none. I, quite honestly (and it felt damn good) told her that my way of looking at it is that, if I were her, I'd be damn grateful that I already had a child and be happy with that, she never had to have any difficulties with having what she already has, and that you have to be happy with what you already have to then know if you want more than that. She then said, right away, that she was really grateful to have her daughter, but she always thought that she'd have more kids. At which point I told her that I always thought I'd have 3 children, and never dreamed that I'd be in the situation I'm in now, with the possibility of never being able to have my own children, but that nothing is ever as we truly want it to be.

I told her that she needs to figure out first what she wants her relationship with J to be-does she want to marry him, and if so, does she really want to have more children (which is what she's undecided about)? I cautioned her against letting the news of her early menopause influence her in making a hasty decision to get married again. She mentioned things about worrying about having two children with two different men, that she didn't want to end up alone, that she didn't want to work as hard as she does to maintain her life. I asked her if she was worried about what others think of her, and she said no, but it makes me wonder. I'd just hate to see her make a rash decision because of this, but I can't stop her. I gave her my piece, and she didn't get pissy (to her credit), but I'm not sure if she was really listening. I guess time will tell that.

She's still going to make an appointment with my RE, though-whether or not she'll be seen is unsure, but she'll find out once she makes the call.

I don't know-perhaps she thought that I'd be an ally with her on this, since I'm going through infertility, but I don't see her as even being secondarily infertile, at least not yet. It's not as if she's trying right now, or even if she eventually will. She did mention that she feels like she's less of a woman (which I can definitely relate to), and, didn't I feel that way? I did admit that, yeah, I do feel that way sometimes, but couldn't agree in her case-she isn't less of a woman, especially since she's already proven that she could have her own children successfully.

I hope I didn't come across as overly harsh, but it's hard for me to have patience with this, as "shit, what is she whinging about-she has a child, can't she be happy with that?" kept replaying in my head as we had this conversation. And, this isn't a knock on secondary infertility in ANY way-I have friends who are going through that and it's hard to watch their pain. No, I think it's because M is trying to make claims of infertility, and I strongly feel that she doesn't have the right to make casual claims like that with no definitive proof. It's not like having a heart murmur or an enlarged spleen-infertility is not something that's always so cut and dry, or easily treated. I guess what irks me about the whole thing (I do have to point out that I'm really not angry with her, per se, just her ignorance, really) is that she's so cavalier about it, like she'll just go to the RE, they'll do IVF (with or without donor eggs) and she'll have a baby, just like that (and she basically said that to me). Mind you, she's in the medical profession, people-she, of all people, should know that medicine is not absolute.

Perhaps that is exactly why I find this all so offensive. Because I (and many of you) have already been through so much hell, and I would hate to have my best friend have to go through what I have-the tests, medications, surgeries, disappointments and sorrows. And, it's almost like she's enjoying (perhaps that's too strong a word, but I can't think of any other word to sugar-coat it) the fact that she's in the "IF Club" now, since she knows many of her closest friends had difficulties. That she can now participate with more personal experience in the conversations about clinics, drugs, and the inside jokes we all share about dildocams, bloodlettings, and that fact we're naked more often for the RE than for our own partners and husbands.

I'm not saying that going through menopause at 34 isn't a great thing, or that she doesn't have a right to be upset with her diagnosis-she has a right to grieve that her childbearing days are coming to a close. And, yes, early menopause is definitely a cause of infertility, so, ultimately, she will be unable to have more children. This is about being happy with what life has given you, and she has so much to be happy for-she's no longer in a bad marriage to a man who was emotionally abusive and distant, she has a beautiful child, a fufilling career, a relationship with a man who cares for and respects both her and her daughter. Would I react in the same way as she did? I don't know. Perhaps, but perhaps not-I'm not in that situation. Do I have empathy for her? Of course-I'm not a heartless bitch. But, would I trade places with her?

Yes, in a heartbeat. Because, even though menopause is no joke, and that I don't want to see my best friend go through infertility treatment, she has something precious, something that, no matter what she goes through with menopause, I'd give everything I have for.

A child of her own.

Piling on the Drug Bandwagon (Again)

Today was the big day-FET appointment day.

I had to wait awhile for Dr. Pipsqueak, as she was running behind (very out of character for Big Important Clinic)-apparently, the appointment before mine was stuck in traffic. No matter, though-it's not like I have anything important going on-I'm on VA-CAY!

Anyhow, we go into her office, where she asks me how I'm feeling (great), if I gained any weight (nope) and whether I was ready to dive into the FET cycle (uh....yeah). I found out that, out of the 22 fertilized eggs, 12 were frozen at 1pn stage (right after fertilization) and 6 made it to day-3 stage before cryo. So, I have 18 embryos to use.

She explained to me that, because my cycles (although regular) tend to be on the longish side, she wants me to do a synthetic FET instead of a natural one. Which means that I get a turn once again with two weeks of OCP, adding in my New Best Friend Loopy Lupron, then introducing Estrace into the mix (estrogen pills), starting Medrol, Doxycycline, and the lovely PIO, and transferring two to three embryos (depending on quality, of course). I was a little taken aback at the recommendation for the synthetic cycle, but she explained that the natural cycle, ultimately, didn't work, and she wants to make sure that every opportunity is being used for success.

Also, since the embryos were frozen in "straws" of three, they will first thaw a strand of the just fertilized ones, to see how they'll grow. Depending on their growth is whether or not they will have to thaw more, or go into the 3 day ones. She did warn me that there is always a chance that none will make through, and we won't transfer anything, but the quality of the day-3 ones were good, but not perfect. So, that freaked me out a little bit, but I refuse to let myself dwell on it. There isn't much that can be done now, if you know what I mean.

I met with Nurse Blondie, who gave me my timeline and promised to get on the phone to the pharmacy to order the Estrace and Doxycycline (and already got the phone call from the pharmacy-they rock). So, it looks like there will be a transfer in about four weeks, give or take a few days, assuming that Aunt Flo That Time of the Month The Mudslide At Crotch Canyon will begin later this week.

Am I excited? Sort of, as long as I don't freak out that I'll arrive for the transfer only to be told that we're shit out of luck. I am really not so happy about more drugs-the progesterone I expected (although pills), but Lupron and Estrace? Yuck. However, beggars can't be choosers, in this case.

Let the games begin.

Fifteen Hours and 42 Minutes

Tomorrow is the big day-my meeting with Dr. Pipsqueak about the cycle, and when the FET will be. I'm really hoping that we can do it this month and not have to wait. That would really suck, but there's not much I'd be able to do about it.


So, I'll update everyone with all the juicy details when I get back tomorrow afternoon.

Keep your fingers crossed.

A Shameless Plug

I just got the BEST book in the mail yesterday, and I have to plug it here.

The book, Movies in Fifteen Minutes: The Ten Biggest Movies Ever For People Who Can't Be Bothered, happens to be one of the funniest things that I've read in a long time.

The author, Cleolinda Jones, has a LiveJournal site titled (what else?) "Movies in Fifteen Minutes", where she parodies films. Any film will do, and they're hilarious. She has a huge fanbase, and eventually got a book deal. Unfortunately, you can't get the book at your local Borders or Barnes and Noble-it was only published out of a UK house, but you can get it through Amazon.uk.

I first read Cleolinda through Mugglenet-they had her LiveJournal link of the hysterical parody of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban listed, and became an instant fan. It's satirical without attacking, and basically gives a voice to any silly plotline we've found in movies. And, for a hardcover, it's really inexpensive-I ordered mine last Tuesday, and it arrived yesterday in the regular mail, and it only cost $22 (including shipping, tax + the exchange rate).

Go buy it. If you like this kind of stuff, you will not be disappointed. I can't wait for the sequel.

Murphy's Law

My AC adaptor died on the cracktop last night. It's not even a year old, and it just went. So, I apprehensively got onto the Dell website to see what could be done. I say "apprehensively" because I've heard horror stories about Dell's customer service. In fact, as I was discussing having to contact the company, Sean replied, "Well, say hello to India for me when you get through". *Sigh*

So, up the stairs I trundled to the six year old Gateway desktop in the office upstairs. Old Faithful, we used to call it, until about three months ago, when it decided to have a nervous breakdown and couldn't be booted up. I got online with the cracktop with Gateway, and a nice lady told me that the problem was Windows XP, and it needed to be reinstalled. But, I asked, will I lose all my data? Nay, she replied, nothing would be lost. So, I dug out the CD and reinstalled XP.

And promptly lost 6 years worth of files. My lesson plans, photos, music (some of which was school related), all gone, Buh-bye. Don't let the door hit ya in the ass.

So, that nice twathole lady lied out of her snatch. Bitch. I hope she gets crabs.

Needless to say, I've been having to reinstall everything-my printer, Microsoft Office (Student/Teacher Edition), NIS 05, Firefox, and it's been a drag. Especially NIS, since I bought it as a download-I had to contact Symantec and beg for a new download. But, I'm lucky it's sort of up and running, because I needed to get a hold of someone at Dell, at one this morning (after finally fixing the desktop). They were very nice, actually. Turns out my adaptor is defective, they're sending me a new one, free of charge, and it should be here within three days or so.

Whew. I can't live without the crack-top. Sitting in the office sucks-I feel really isolated.

The upside is that I finally got the gumption to really clean the office out-went through old files, threw a lot of crap out, cleaned out and reorganized the closet, vacuumed the rug (Peaches wasn't too happy about that one). It looks spick and span. At least until we start piling up crap again.

Happy 4th!

I've Been Meme'd!

So, it seems as if I've been meme'd, from Shazz...........so, here goes (and, forgive me, those who I'm about to tag!)-sorry if it's a little late, but this shit is hard!


7 Things I'd Like To Do Before I Die:

1. Get the cojones to actually give a go at the professional acting/singing thing.
2. Live in Europe
3. Become more financially secure
4. Be able to have #3, so we can buy a beautiful falling-apart Victorian and restore it
5. Have our own children.......duh....
6. Get my Master's and DMA, so I can teach University-level music classes
7. Learn to speak another language fluently, so I can teach our kids to be bilingual

7 Things That I Can't Do:

1. Drive a manual-shift car
2. Eat any kind of meat that's on the bone-it has to be removed.
3. Play an instrument that requires a reed (clarinet, saxophone) -can't stand the vibrating against my teeth
4. Have plastic surgery, unless medically necessary
5. Ride on roller coasters
6. Sleep without socks on
7. Do the butterfly stroke-not that coordinated

7 Things That Attracted Me To My Husband:

1. His smile
2. His sense of humor
3. The fact that he is the voice of reason, when I need it the most
4. His ass......whoo-ho, is it smokin'!
5. Similar interests in music and theater
6. His kindness
7. That is he the most unselfish person I know

7 Books (or series of books) That I Love:

1. The entire Harry Potter series
2. Jepthe's Daughter, by Naomi Ragen
3. Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man, by Fannie Flagg
4. The Witching Hour (well, the whole series, really), by Anne Rice
5. The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant
6. Sarah (part of the Caanan Trilogy), by Marek Halter
7. Rachel's Holiday, by Marian Keyes

7 Movies I'd Watch Over & Over:

1. Animal House
2. Sixteen Candles
3. Any movie that Christoper Guest directed
4. The Princess Bride
5. Arsenic and Old Lace
6. Any movie that Gary Oldman is in-he's fucking brilliant!
7. Henry V

7 People I'd Like To Tag (and if you don't do it, I totally understand):

1. Jess
2. Kimmer
3. Beth
4. Lut
5. Shelli
6. UtRus
7. Cat

Things On My Mind

Thanks for the replies. It makes it easier to know that this seems to be a common occurence. It's sad though-infertility is hard enough, but to not have that support system around you, when you need it the most, really sucks. That's what I hate about being infertile-it's so isolating. You isolate yourself because most people really don't get it, and, after awhile, don't want to hear about it (like Shelli said-and I remember when you went through that), so they start to avoid you. There are friends that I haven't seen in months, because they probably feel awkward around us. Does it suck? Yeah. Would I do the same thing, if I weren't going through this? Maybe. Let's be honest here-if I were a Fertile I would not even begin to understand what someone who has to go through treatment is dealing with. Just like I, as a woman with no children (with the possibility of not being able to have my own children) don't understand the emotional complexity of secondary IF. I do try to put it in their perspective, though-it must not be easy to hear about constantly, perhaps it makes perfectly fertile people feel guilty, and I do try not to speak of it too much, unless I'm specifically asked about it. But, how does that help me, emotionally?

Thank God for this blog. Thank God that it led me to people who DO get it, and that it shows that I'm not a freak; that everything I feel is what others feel and is normal.

Anyway, I think that the best advice, for now, is to just put a little bit of distance between us. As to whether or not I'm going to lay it all on the table....I think that, eventually, I will say something, but not now. I need to step back and not let my emotions get in the way of it, because if that happened I'd end up freaking out on her, and that's not what I want to do-I don't want to necessarily end our friendship, but I do want her to know what's going on and how I feel about it. So, all in good time...

I do know that she's being a selfish cow, but I honestly think that it's not intentional-she truly doesn't realize that she's being self-absorbed. Sean thinks that, because of her divorce and dealings with the asshat, she lets herself get worked up and stressed about him and it boils over into her entire life. Which I don't altogether disagree with. She has reflux and has to take Nexium every day, and also had anxiety issues in the past. I've told her that perhaps therapy would help (not in a snide way) with how she deals with things. Whether or not she actually did that is, well......another thing.

In an aside to all this, the twato called her yesterday and told her that her FSH, prolactin and prostaglandin levels are all elevated above normal, which could either be because she's perimenopausal, or possibly an autoimmune disorder, like MS or rheumatoid arthritis. Her uncle (dad's brother) has MS and her dad has RA, so now she's freaking out again, and has to go for more tests........sigh......it doesn't get easier, does it?

So, 9 days until my meeing with Dr. Pipsqueak to go over my FET protocol. I've got lots of questions to ask (I love her, because she loves when you ask LOTS of questions). I did realize that, if all goes according to my cycle, I'll get AF around 7/13-15, which will put my transfer (if we're doing a natural cycle) at around the last days of July. Which was when I had my first FET. The one that got me pregnant. The one that I also miscarried.

Concidence? Perhaps. Does it freak me out? Uh........yeah. But, I can't worry about it. I'm supposed to be "stress-free" this summer (according to Sean-he takes his job very seriously), and I can't let things freak me out.

Not yet, at least.

A Slight Dilemma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would you do?

Poopapalooza, Part Deux

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Piles Of) Piles

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

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

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

Hemmorhoids. Piles. Ouch.

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

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

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

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

'Rroids SUCK.

I've Been Sprung!

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

Game on-let the babymaking games begin!

Dates (and Other Things)

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

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

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

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

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

Ode to Mammaries

Sung to the tune of "O Tannenbaum"

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

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

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

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

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

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

All Is Well

Thanks for the support-you girls are awesome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. Why now? Why get sick now?

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

I'll update more tomorrow, after the appointment.

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

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

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

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

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

22 embryos. I have 22 embryos.

Still Alive

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

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

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

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

Need to take drugs now.

It's All About The Estradiol

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miss S and the Case of the Dropping Stims Dose

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Freakin' Egg Factory

Today's turn with the Follicular Lurve Wand showed a total of 20 follicles, all around 11mm. The call today instructed me to drop my FolliSTING dose down to 100IU and to keep the Lupron at the same 5 units, and that they'd keep a seat warm for me in the waiting room tomorrow morning.

I'm starting to feel a bit crampy, along with the usual moodiness, tiredness and boob-twinges. Let's hope that tomorrow will bring some more news, along with a date for retrieval.

Sorry for the shitty post, but I'm beat-I'm gonna go to bed early and hopefully get some sleep. 5am comes way too quickly for me......

A New Addition

If you haven't already seen, there's a new arrival at the House of Miao...........

Welcome to the world, little kitten! And, Congrats to Cat and Mr. Miao on the addition to their litter!

I Spoke Too Soon

Okay, so even after having my dosage dropped, today's wanding showed 18 follicles, all under 10 mm.

Why, oh why did I open my big mouth? At least it's an even number, though......

Dr. G made a joke this morning, saying that she tried to get me a "day off" from monitoring, but when she looked at my chart she realized that I'll be a "repeat customer". Yeah, that's because I'm the Follicle Queen of the World, that's why.

So, we'll see what tomorrow brings.

Stims, Day 3-The (Almost) Dirty Dozen

I had my first scan, post-FolliSTING, this morning. I had to get up at the butt-crack of dawn, (and no, I'm not being dramatic-I was at the RE's office at 6:45 this morning), had my blood drawn by nice phlebotomist and waited for my turn on the Wand of Follicular Fun. Dr. G was there again, and counted 11 follicles-five on the left and 6 on the right, after only two injections. Hey, why not make it a dozen? I like things in even numbers-it satisfies the OCD/anal-retentive side of me.

Dr. Pipsqueak called this afternoon (Sean took the message, as I was still at church) and directed me to reduce the FolliSTING down to 150 IU, keep Loopy Lupron at the same dosage (5 units), and to make sure my ass is back in tomorrow morning to see what's cooking in there. She wants to see me every morning this week to monitor my progress.

Holy crap-11 follicles already. Granted, they didn't look too large on the screen while Dr. G was applying the Wand (I do have to say, though-all three RE's are very gentle with the wanding-yeah!), but, given my track record, they will get to the size of a small Baltic country if left to their own devices. I'm feeling a bit queasy and have a headache for the past few days, but I'm not sure if it's from the meds or the fact that it's like 100 degrees outside (okay, it's not actually 100 degrees, it's only 82) and I'm exhausted. Boy, oh boy-I've forgotten just how much fun being hormonally jacked-up actually was-being around me the last day or so is like poking a badger in the ass with a sharp spoon. Entertaining for some (friends), painful for others (Sean), and aggravating as hell (for me).

That's all folks-peace out, and have a great rest of the weekend-gonna go and break out a burger on the grill and sit in the nice, cool, air-conditioned house and read some trashy books.

All's Quiet on the Ovarian Front

I went this morning for the day 3 bloodletting and wanding, and was told that the girls are officially suppressed. I received the phonecall this afternoon to decrease the Lupron to 5 units and add the 225 IU of FolliSTING, starting tonight. Then I go back on Sunday morning to see what's cooking in there.

I asked the doctor this morning (Dr. G, not Dr. Pipsqueak-all the doctors are very nice though) if, because I took the pill plus the Lupron, I would have a period or not. Dr. G told me that I might not get one, or I'd get a really light one if I did. Well, at around 2:30 this afternoon, the bloodgates opened, which totally SUCKS. Although, now it seems to be lighter, so hopefully today will be the worst of it.

There's no turning back now, ladies-the ball is really rolling. Towards what, I guess we'll find out, soon enough.

Loopy Lupron, Redux

Jaysus, this self-injecting doesn't get any easier, does it? It doesn't matter how many times you've been through it before, it still sucks.

It took me almost a half hour to get the needle in-my brain just wouldn't let my hand do its job. I was getting so frustrated at myself, I wanted to cry. Then again, if the cat sneezed I want to cry. But, it's not like I don't know what sticking a needle in my stomach feels like. And, starting Friday (barring any problems at the suppression check that morning), it's not gonna get any easier, as I'll be adding FolliSTING to the cocktail. At least no more BCP's. I really think that the BCP/Lupron cocktail of the past five days is starting to get to me-I'm edgy, constantly queasy, exhausted and my face is looking like the eruption of Mount Etna, with the amount of zits that are there. I can't get up in the mornings, but, then again, I'm not sure if it's the meds of the fact that school is winding down (18 DAYS-WOOT!) and I'm just beat.

I do have to say, Sean is being really good to me, considering my constant feeling of being just at the edge of insanity. He cooked dinner and microwaved me a Wegmans Molten Chocolate Cake last night, and is getting takeaway tonight (Baja Fresh-yummy yummy Mexican). He's even been giving me foot massages, allowing me to hog all the bedcovers and is letting me yell at him for stupid things.

That's love, people-ain't I a lucky girl?

Ultra Comfort, My Ass!

Whilst preparing myself for my nightly Shot of Fun, I noticed, printed on the barrel of my syringe, it says "UltraComfort".

Are you fucking kidding me? What, is like a new bra or a pair of shoes?

Comfortable for who, an elephant? Seriously, that's not the first description that comes to mind when I'm sticking it in my stomach. Annoying pinch, more like. Especially when I gave it to myself about an hour ago-I wasn't paying attention (I was on speakerphone-multitasking, 'natch!) and, instead of injecting myself quickly ("like a dart", so the product information designates), I stuck the sharp in slo-motion, like a masochist. Yeouch. Not Ultra and certainly not Comfortable.

Stupid-ass marketing people. I'd like to see them volunteer for some product testing-especially the men.....

Injection Amnesia

Holy shit, I totally forgot just how much these injections actually SUCK. I mean, really suck. I now have a HUGE bruise where I gave myself the first Lupron injection, which has never happened this early in an IVF cycle. It probably didn't help that I was trying to get the damn thing over with. Sigh........you'd think that I was a syringe "virgin" or something....

Yeah, I got my box 'o meds, courtesy of the FedEx man, this morning. At least, this time Sean actually gets to join in on the fun too-he gets to go on antibiotics, starting Friday........hey, why not share the wealth, right?

Honestly, it doesn't matter if you've done infertility treatment using injectibles once or a hundred times, that first day on meds doesn't get any easier. I really think that it's that "mind over matter" thing-you have to literally force your hand to stick yourself in the stomach with a sharp object. I must've "wound up" about ten times before I could get the fucking syringe in. I even iced it beforehand, folks. Yeah, I'm a chickenshit-but, within a few days I'll (unfortunately) remember it all and be an old pro.

So, here we go, it's time for Loopy Lupron to start the comeback tour. Of course, don't forget that this time she has her backup singers, the birth control pills, along for the ride. Now, normally I don't get those wacky mood swings and such on the Lupron, however, with the addition of the BCP's, let's just hope and pray that Sean will be alive at the end to tell the tale. I'm just worried that I'll get oversuppressed, but they're pretty conservative at Big Important Clinic, so they will be on top of things.

Game on, people!!! Let's hope I hit a home run this time.

The "Mother's Club"

So, Mother's Day certainly sucked big ASS for me.

I decided that, this year, I would not be celebrating Mother's Day this year. Of course, I neglected to actually tell anyone in the family this, so I'm sure that my mother is pretty pissed off at me and cursing me out as I type this. But, I really couldn't deal with it this year. I couldn't help but think that this year I would have been a mother, and that I have to do yet another cycle, not knowing whether or not it will work. That I have to go to work today and hearing from all the teachers the wonderful things they did/got/etc.

Just. plain. sucks.

I've decided that the majority of the people I work with are insensitive. They all know what I'm going through, have seen me through my first two cycles already-you'd think that they might, uh, be considerate. Nah. Every single time I have lunch in the teacher's lounge, the talk goes to babies, grandkids, who's pregnant or who's daughter/granddaughter is pregnant, comparing symptoms, blah blahdefucking blah. Sheesh. I can't even eat my lunch anymore without baby/pregnancy talk. And,it's not like I can participate in any of it, so I just try to quickly eat and bolt out of the room. Sigh-I guess that's what happens when you work in a woman-dominated place. Is it just me, or is this all women talk about? If I am so lucky to get pregnant and have a baby, will I become like that? I mean, I have other interests, other things to talk about-don't they?

So, I actually did have something nice (albeit sad) thing happen to me yesterday. After Mass yesterday morning, I found that my friends K&T were also there, and stopped by for a quick minute to chat. T said that she had something for me, and was I going home right after? I told her that I had to sing the next Mass, but that Sean and I would stop by afterward. When we got to their house, we hung out, ate some yummy sammies, then T gives me a gift bag. Inside it, there was this beautiful ornament that says "A child's first sense of home is found in it's Mother's arms". Attached to the ornament was a charm with an April Swarovski crystal, and a card that read "Just for you to always remember your sweet baby-and add to as you have the children you have dreamed of. You are always a mom-don't forget that."

I was so overwhelmed. I couldn't do anything but sit there and cry (with Sean, of course). Someone actually got it-how I felt, how I didn't feel I belonged to the "Mother's Club" because I didn't have a baby in my arms. She was able to strengthen my soul, and I can't even put into words how much it meant to me.

I put it up, on my armoire, so it will remind me of why I'm doing this third cycle. To make my resolve like steel. I will be a mother.

I already am. Thanks, T, for reminding me of that.

You Know What They Say.....

about the third time, right? Well, I won't say it, just in case.

Appointment went well-the bloodletting and turn with the Wand of Fun showed everything to be good, so we got the okay to move forward. We had our orientation and medication class yesterday afternoon, with three other couples. We, of course, were the old vets of the group, but that was okay. We met a teacher and her husband (also a teacher) who was there because she has to do PGD due to a family genetic disorder, and I felt bad for her, because she and her husband had no fertility problems. She also seemed scared shitless. God, I remember that well.

We also met our nurse, Nurse Blondie, who was really nice (and also ran the orientation). She seems to be very helpful and matter of fact, but also compassionate, which is good.

So, here's the lowdown on my cycle: I started the Pill last night, which BLOWS ASS CHUNKS. Sean said that it was the ultimate cruel joke-to take birth control pills when we can't have kids on our own to begin with. Oh, well-bottoms up! But, taking it sure sucks. Can't wait for the constant nausea that I usually get at first to happen-I'm thinking that will happen within the next day or so. At least it's temporary, right?

Anyway, I take the little fuckers for about 10 days, then start Lupron injections beginning May 20th (overlapping with the pills). I take the last Pill on 5/23, then go in for a wanding and bloodwork on 5/26. If all looks okay, I start 225 IU of FolliSTING that evening, then take the same amount every night (only once a day, instead of 225 twice a day, which is what Dr. Vest had me on) unless they change the dosage, and drop the Lupron to 5 units. I go back on 5/28 for more monitoring, then Dr. Pipsqueak (who Sean duly renamed yesterday when he saw her come out of her office and realized that she barely came up to the nameplate on her door) wants me in every day after that for monitoring. Yikes. My arms will look like ground beef before it's all over-hopefully there will be a vein for the IV during the retrieval.

Retrieval is tentatively set between the 3rd and the 5th of June, depending, of course on how I respond to the meds. Transfer would be a three day, and the beta will be anytime from June 18th to 20th. I'll also have to go in the day after transfer, 2dp, 5dp, and 9dp for estradiol and progesterone checks, which I've never done before. I'm glad, though-it's a conservative approach, and one that perhaps I needed all along.

Wow.

For some reason, I thought that this wouldn't be until more towards the middle of June, but hey-it's meant to happen this way. It just seems to be moving more quickly this time around, and I'm not sure whether it's because we're at a Big Important Clinic or not, or that we were really proactive in completing the IVF checklist we were given last month-I noticed that the other members in our orientation had nothing completed yet (except for the PGD couple-I think that she and I will be cycling around the same time, which is cool). But, when all's said and done, I'm glad that we're not waiting around-I want to just get this done and over with.

By the way, watching Sean try to learn how to draw and give IM meds was hilarious. Honestly, I am really thankful that his mom and M are around to do this-watching him yesterday reinforces the thought that, as much as I love him and want his baby, I want him NO WHERE NEAR MY ASS CHEEK with a 2 1/2 inch sharp needle. Really.

However, if it gets me pregnant, I don't care who does it to me, as long as it works.

34 Times (Cycle) Day One Equals......

$35,924.17. Which is the estimated back-rent that fucking bitch Aunt Flo owes me for her monthly stay in my uterine penthouse and trashing the joint. She's lucky that I don't charge her for the cleaning supplies and equipment. Tampons don't just grow on trees, dontcha know.......

By the way, thanks for the responses on the last post. I truly hope I didn't offend anyone....and, Pamplemouse, you weren't being harsh. Everyone has an opinion, and oftentimes telling it like it is shows us another point of view that we wouldn't ordinarily see-so, thank you for showing me your views.

So, today is Cycle Day One. Again. For 34th time, according to Futility Friend. Not that I'm keeping track or anything. I called Dr. Petite's admin this morning to announce the Red Tidings of Joy, and was then transferred to our awesome Coordinator, where I left a message. She called me back this afternoon to tell me that, since our checklist is completed, we will be meeting our nurse on Thursday, when we go in for both our IVF Orientation and Sean's Penile Spank-a-palooza 2006 (fortunately, for us, not at the same location-that would be just, well weird). Then, I get a call from our Nurse, who said that she wants me in on CD3 for a bloodletting and a Ride on the Wand of Follicular Fun (aka the Dildocam-in a sick and demented way, I kinda missed that....not....)-which conveniently happens to be-Thursday. The same day we have to be there for the Spankapalooza/Drug Fest-yay! It's guaranteed to be a fun-filled day for all involved.

If the tests clear me, I'll be starting the Pill for 10 days, then I'll overlap with the Lupron starting on Day 21. I've never taken them along with a cycle before, and I haven't been on the Pill since, well, just about 4 years ago, and I'm not looking forward to having to start taking them again. But, if this works, I won't care. Whatever it takes.

So, in other fertility news, it looks that I am, ultimately, the last person from my original Buddy Group that is without a child. And, I am truly, absolutely happy for my friend-she's been through hell and back and is finally pregnant-but sad too. I hate being the last one for anything-it just reinforces my feelings of that fucking biological clock ticking away inside my head. And, I can say that here, even though I know she reads my blog, because she understands where I'm coming from and knows that I'm not being an asshole (at least, I hope so). I just never thought that I would be the last one standing. Then again, I never thought that I'd have to do any type of fertility treatments, either. It's all just so fucked up, isn't it? I have no faith anymore that I can count on my body to know what it's supposed to do.

I've just been sort of resigned to this next cycle. I don't want to even discuss it with other people (aside from here). I just don't want the questions, the waiting on bated breath attitude from family members. I definitely want to do this, but it feels like I'm disconnected emotionally from it all. Perhaps it's because that lately, all I've been thinking about is, if things had worked out better, I'd have a three week old child at this time. And, it makes me angry and sad and bitter at myself. I mean, I was a mother, right? Even if it was for only 6 weeks or so? Does it count? To some people, yes-to me, it does. To others, well.........probably not. And, well, fuck them-preferably with a dirty, rusty butter knife, as far as I'm concerned.

I guess these emotions are all coming to a head with the imminent arrival to the Infertile Woman's Shittiest Holiday of the Year-Mother's Day. Every year, at our church, the priest asks all the mothers in the congregation to stand for a special blessing, and, every year, I slump down into my seat, ashamed that, for yet another year, I have no babies or swelling belly. Like my slightly flabby stomach (from too many damn Girl Scout Cookies) is an advertisement of my failure. Again.

So, this year, where do I belong? I really, truly hope and pray that this time, next year, the answer will be obviously, glaringly clear to everyone. Me included.

What the FUCK?

Just saw this one on the evening news:

Psychologist to be Britian's oldest mother at 63.

Okay, maybe it's me, but why? She already has two adult children. But, she's 63 YEARS OLD. And, how could a physician feel that he is morally correct in agreeing to treat her?

Don't get me wrong-I'm not against older mothers at all. Women are having babies well into their 40's, and are doing a terrific job. But, what about the mothers that are having babies in their 50's and (now) 60's? It's a whole different ballgame, really. It's well documented medically that there are more health risks involved for both the mother and the child, more risks for chromosomal anomalies. And, it's also about raising a child at that age. Let's think realistically-she's 63, which will make her 68 when her child starts school, 81 when the kid graduates from high school and 85 when he or she graduates from college. I know that people are living longer, but what about the quality of life? What's to say that either parent will be around to see this child graduate high school, let alone college? Can you see a 75 year old shuttling a kid back and forth to piano lessons, soccer practice and school dances with the same energy of someone 30 years their junior? And, is it fair to the child, especially if a parent develops an illness and has to be cared for? Who does the caring-a minor with no legal rights in regards to their parent's medical treatment? Does that make sense at all?

And yes, I do know that there are lots of children here in the U.S. that are being raised by grandparents-in fact, many of these children are my students-who aren't scarred for life. But, I do see that these grandparents have a hell of a time raising these kids They often can't do as much with them-they are older, often retired and on a pension, trying to raise kids while dealing with Medicare, various ailments, and, let's face it, the aches and pains of aging. Who is that fair to-the child?

The doctor, by the way, says that she should live "20 or 25 years" and that she isn't giving birth to an "orphan". That assuming, of course, that both she and her husband will remain in perfect health. No doctor can predict the future of any individual-I'm sure we all can think of someone we knew or loved that were in "perfect" health that suddenly went downhill and passed away with no warning. It's almost like this doctor is more preoccupied with getting post-menopausal women pregnant for the sake of being able to and giving birth to live babies than thinking of the quality of life for the patient and their child.

Just my opinion, but I think that it's selfish on the parents side. Even though these people (who are probably very nice) say that they have their child's best interest at heart, and that they made arrangements for their child's future, I really wonder.

It just makes IVF as a treatment option even harder for the public and religious leaders to view as acceptable for those of us who just want to have one child of our own. It gives the treatment a bad name, really.

Perhaps I'm being ridiculously harsh, but I just don't get it..........any opinions out there about this?

Give it to Me One More Time.....

Well, 8 days until we go for our IVF medication class. Big Important Clinic (BIC for short) has almost of our stuff-bloodwork, saline sonohystogram results (okey-dokey-was kinda cool and weird at the same time to see Dr. Petite injecting saline into my ute and not feeling anything), Sean's bloodwork is in, his spankfest is scheduled for next Thursday morning (so we don't have to travel there twice), and we're getting one of our forms (proof of partership/marriage-required) notarized tonight. The only glich is that I got a letter from our cool IVF coordinator that told me the lab "forgot" to test for my CBC, so I have to go back and get more blood drawn-ick. But, it's not a major problem, so no big deal.....

I've been thinking a lot about this upcoming cycle, and contemplating whether or not it will be my last. I'm not sure I want to give up at this time, but I'm also not sure if I can keep doing this. Given our past track record, I don't want to let that old bitch Hope in just yet-I don't want to even entertain that this could actually work for us. In some ways, it's so disheartening-trying to stay positive, trying everything (crackpot or not) under the sun to make the prime environment for success, and then ending up with nothing but heavy bleeding. But, if the medical professionals didn't think that this could work, they wouldn't give me Hope, right?

At least, that's what I'd like to think.

So, I'm trying to get through the next week or so until our class. It's not like I don't have enough to keep me busy-I have two concerts next week to prepare for-but this damn infertility is breathing down my neck, and I'm starting to get antsy. It's like my psyche knows that my self-imposed exile is almost over, and I'm back in the saddle again.

By the way, 32 more days until school ends, and I can't wait-the kids are driving me absolutely batty. I can't wait until the summer vacation.

Hopefully this will be a very nice summer vacation indeed, if you get my drift.

Va-cay

So........our vacation.....

Well, it didn't get off to the best start, sorry to say. We get to the airport at around 6:30am, e-tickets in hand, and go off to the computerized check-in. After putting in the confirmation number several times with no success I finally saw a ticket agent, who informed me (after she input the number a few more times) that the etickets were for Sunday, April 16th, not for Monday morning. At that point, I started to freak out right there in line. I (stupidly) thought that April 16th was on a Monday morning, and I was also stupid enough not to check it before the weekend. The nice ticket lady said that they could put us on a flight that left at 3:55, and I promptly started to cry, blubbering that we were going on a cruise and that we needed to be on the boat by 4:30, and pleasepleaseohgodplease can't you put us on anything earlier?

Sean later said that he saw that whole vacation flash right before his eyes like a dying man. I, of course, felt like the dumbest ass in the whole world. I was lucky that I didn't curse and swear though-there were nuns next to us checking in and it would have been a no-brainer that God would get us for that one.

Luckily, the nice ticket lady gave us standby tickets for the 8 and 9 am flights, and booked us on the 12:30 flight. Don't worry, said Nice Ticket Lady, your luggage will be on whatever flight you board, so please hand over your credit card so I can charge you the $350 fee to change the flight and print out paper tickets (FUCK!). Then began the Great Race to the Gates to see if we can get on the flights. The first flight (at gate 81) was a no-go-overbooked, in fact. So, we run to Gate 120 (on the other side of the airport, naturally) to see if we can get on the 9am flight. And, we wait.

If anyone has never had the misfortune to fly standby, well....it SUCKS. The stress, waiting, staring down the other standby passengers aggressively, like the plane is a lioness in heat and you're horny lion; sending those "pick me" vibes to the attendant at the gate and shaking a human skull while doing a voodoo dance in front of the counter (okay, so that's just what I do). Not my idea of a good time. I'd rather have a colonic, to be honest (and my poop chute is an exit only, thankyouverymuch).

Well, that bone-shaking must have worked, because we got on the 9am flight. Seperated seats, of course, but who gives a shit. I of course, due to the laws of nature, get stuck behind this freaky woman who was asking everyone around us to change seats so she and her daughter could sit together. Naturally, nobody wanted to change (they both had middle seats), so she was bitching and moaning and slamming her back into her seat. At one point, as I was bending down to get something out of my bag, she sat back into her seat and hit me in the head. It wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't happened again. Needless to say, she didn't like me much after I ripped her a new asshole.

We get to Tampa, make our way to the baggage claim area and wait like cows in front of the barnyard gate for our luggage. And waited. And WAITED. Finally, when we saw the same tired leather suitcase with the bright orange bow around the handle and the golf clubs go around for the 40th time, we figured out that our suitcase was MIA. So, off we trundle to the baggage area to file a claim, thanking our mothers silently for the reminder to pack extra underwear in our carry-on bag. But, lo and behold, our suitcase is sitting right outside the office-yay! Game on! We then find a cab and take the 20 minute ride to the port.

After this, the drama is over-really. Just the getting there was the shitty part.

We booked a suite for this cruise-not because I like to live above my means or anything like that. Honestly, it was cheap as hell-$800 per person for a suite with a balcony. Who am I to pass up a deal like that? Little did I know that there are some perks to these suites-namely, the ability to bypass the big snaking line and go to a special area to check-in. Whee-we were on the boat in 15 minutes! Let's unpack and hit the buffet and laugh at the people still waiting to get on the ship!

The weather was beautiful all week, the seas were calm, and I got a hell of a tan. Oh, yeah, and we fucked like rabbits all week-for some reason, tan lines seem to turn guys on. The room was nice, the balcony ROCKED (and yeah, Sean did moon me one morning as I was standing on the balcony, watching us plow through the Caribbean-I didn't have my camera though or else you'd all get to experience THAT). We sat with some pretty hilarious people, all of whom were from either NY State and Massachussets. And, we ate like pigs. Oh, yeah, did I mention the SEX!? Faboo. I'd forgotten what fun sex for pleasure is.

Our destinations were, overall, okay. Costa Maya was interesting (it's in Mexico, almost at the border of Belize), but Cozumel was kinda sad. We'd been there two years previously and it was hard to see the effects of Hurricane Wilma-one of the two concrete piers were completely destroyed, and there was a lot of rubble, trash and uprooted trees along the shoreline. We did some exploring, but mostly hung out on the ship.

Flying home was terrific-because we got to fly First Class. When booking the tickets, we bitched and moaned that the price of the airfare back to Newark was so damn expensive due to Easter Vacation. We then noticed that, for only $15 more per person we can fly First Class instead of Economy-woot! It was the best plane ride I've ever taken, and I'm spoiled forever. Booze in real glasses, a good meal on real china, dessert, hot towels for your hands, automatic comfort seats......ahhhhh.........it made up for........

Flying into a soggy, cold, overcrowded New Jersey airport. We were delayed in Tampa due to weather, then waited on the runway in Tampa for 45 minutes, then circled around Baltimore for a half hour before we got home. The Mother-In-Law and Big C picked us up and were late due to traffic, so we didn't get home until after 10pm. The kitties got lots of loving and we've been unpacking and doing the mounds of laundry ever since. So, it was a well-deserved rest.

Hey, did I mention that the sex was amazing?

Helloooooooo........

Finally home. We were delayed an hour and a half due to bad weather in the Northeast and flew into Newark where it was rainy and 45 degress-a nice (!) change from the sunny 86 degrees we left behind in Tampa. Gotta love New Jersey in April.

However, eating a gourmet meal off of real china and glassware (with wine!) and having dessert in First Class just about made up from the above mentioned flight delay. That and the nice wide seats with the automatic controls. I think I'm in love.

Missed the cats, and it was mutual. I noticed that the cats only slept on my side of the bed (due to the extraordinary amounts of cat fur planted there) and they won't leave us alone.

Got Shelli a cute magnet for her collection. Must send in the mail (unless I can bring it to her first!!).

Cruise was great-didn't want to come home. Had LOTS of sex-real sex, not baby-making sex (although the stupid "Ooh, it's my fertile time" thought did creep in once or twice). Ate like a fucking pig. Got a nice tan. Bought some new goodies. Thoroughly enjoyed the suite and balcony........especially when Sean mooned me one afternoon as I was out there.

Will write a play-by-play tomorrow, after I get some sleep and try to get my land legs back on track.

Time to snuggle with the babies (and my man) in my own bed, and looking forward to it.

Bon Voyage

Triduum is almost over. I've been singing almost every day since Palm Sunday (I had one day off on Tuesday), whether it be a rehearsal or Mass, as well as trying to fit in cleaning, washing clothes, packing, and running out for last-minute things for our trip. Oh, yeah, and making a cake and the poopie cupcakes, which turned out quite well-gotta try to take a pic of them tomorrow.

So far, everything with Big Important Clinic is doing well. I had my cycle day 3 bloodwork, which looks good, and yesterday I went for the bloodletting from hell-nine vials. NINE. Plus, I had to fast for the bloodwork (not to mention that it was Good Friday and I was fasting anyway. Sheesh.). I now have a lovely purple bruise the size of Iowa on my left arm. I'm sure it will go with the beautiful blue dress I bought for the cruise *grumble grumble* Then, we had to go to see Dr. Petite for our saline sonohystogram, and we were given the all-clear. Of course, I was crampy and leaking saline for the rest of the day, which wasn't fun-especially since I had to sing all day. Note to self: Have some brains and do not schedule invasive reproductive tests when you know you have to perform five hours later. It's just not that fun.

So now, we just need to take our IVF medication class on May 11th (I mean, what's the point? Oh, yeah, it's required.......), Sean's gotta spank the monkey for a sperm sample to test (and he can see if the hospital has any new porn since the last year's visit), and we're on our way. Fresh cycle #3. Whoopee.

It's weird-all weekend I've been thinking about the past year. This time, last year, I was bloated and miserable and in the middle of the two-week wait from hell from my first cycle, which we all know was a bust. Then, in the middle of everything yesterday, I realized that, had I not miscarried, I would have been due Monday, April 17th-coincidentally, the day we leave for our holiday. More than likely, Triduum this year probably wouldn't have happened for me-I might have been in the hospital either giving birth or recuperating from it.

Just another reason to cry on Good Friday.

I might not be back on until next week (sorry, much as I love you all, I will be sucking down margaritas poolside and will be waaay too drunk to type, or even string a sentence together-at least, that's my goal for the week), so-Happy Passover to those who celebrate, A Happy and Blessed Easter for my Christian friends, and, for those who celebrate neither-have a wonderful warm and sunny Spring week.

Peace out-see y'all on the 22nd or so.

Back in the Saddle Again

Well, it's Cycle Day 1. Again.

I had to call Big Important Clinic today to let the on-call nurse that dear Auntie is here for a visit. I talked to a very nice nursey and gave her the goods, and she told me that (since we're still working on our "checklist" ie. bloodwork, saline sonohystogram, etc) I need to come in on Tuesday for Cycle Day 3 bloodwork, as a baseline. Whoopee-the sticking has begun. At least it's one-stop shopping for the bloodletting and the wanding.

I also have to call Dr. Petite's admin to schedule the saline sonohystogram. Hopefully we can squeeze it in (no pun intended there) before we leave for vacation.......otherwise, it's gonna seriously suck ass.

Seven days...................

Heh......I just felt like that freaky dead girl in "The Ring".


Seriously, though-I can't wait. I had to sing the whole of Palm Sunday weekend (5 masses), which is exhausting. This week coming up is Holy (Hell) Week-we have a huge rehearsal tomorrow night, a cantor rehearsal on Wednesday, then we're singing for Maundy Thursday, two services on Good Friday (the Veneration of the Cross and then a "living" Stations of the Cross, performed by our Youth Group), then the Easter Vigil on Saturday and Easter Mass on Sunday. Not to mention that, afterwards, we're driving to Sean's uncle and aunt's house in Pennsylvania for dinner. I'm going to be mush by then.

Speaking of Easter dinner-I've volunteered to bring dessert, which will be a carrot cake with cream-cheese frosting. We went to Williams-Sonoma (LOVE that store) last week, after the consult, and saw the cutest stuff there for the holiday. They had these adorable little chicks hatching out of their shells, all make out of white chocolate.....yummy. Anyway, they had these sweet plates there, with little bunnies on them (here's a pic-you can't see it very well, but there's little paw tracks on them), and I pointed them out to Sean. He told me that he would color the paw prints brown so they look like rabbit turds. Well..........

THEN he got it into his head that he is going to make a special "dessert" for Easter dinner. He's going to make chocolate cupcakes, dye some cream-cheese frosting green and ice them, sprinke some dyed-green coconut on top to look like grass, get some little chocolate bunnies to put on top, and then...........

Get some mini-chocolate chips and put them on so it looks like the rabbit pooed and then ran away.

He's serious, folks. He's already gone out and got half the ingredients.

The sick thing is, his family would think that it was hilarious. It will be the hit of the holiday.

And I thought that MY family was fucked-up. Go figure.

Hope Springs Eternal (Yet Again)

Thanks ladies, for the encouraging words. It's hard not to get excited, but, I've been through this before. I just don't want to get my hopes up yet again.

I was feeling sort of disloyal after we got home, about changing doctors. Sean thinks that I'm insane-we're ultimately paying, albeit through insurance, for services, and if we can get them elsewhere in a better place I shouldn't feel bad about changing. Which, deep down, I do know (and I'm still switching). But, it's like changing your hairdresser-as much as you hate not getting an appointment and getting bullied into that "new" cut that you just can't style the same way at home as in the salon, you don't want to start over, either. Don't worry, I'll get over it.

It also seems as if that auld 'ho Auntie Flo should be here within the next day or so, which is great. If she shows up tomorrow (which I have the feeling she will), then I can go on Saturday morning to the Big Important Clinic to get my cycle day 3 bloodwork, and not have to miss any work-yay! One of the advantages of a big clinic-weekend hours and monitoring hours starting at 6:30am. Not to mention that coffee machine and pastry basket. Yeah, I know-the small things make me happy.

Everyone tells me that they have a "good feeling" about making the move; that, under the eye of a large, successful clinic in a teaching hospital I'll have the odds going for me. Realistically, it's probably true. Emotionally, well..........that's another issue. I'm afraid to get excited. Perhaps the stress of having to micromanage myself medically in Dr. Vest's office, as well as the wacky office hours (monitoring three days a week, the other two days closed by 11:30 am, and no weekends) added to the stress of having to do a cycle. It seems as if there's many more people to call if you have a question, not to mention a nurse on-call in the evenings. I guess it's the mark of a good, professional clinic-one that realizes that a woman's cycle doesn't comply with the 9-5, Monday through Friday mentality.

Okay, I admit it-I'm sort of excited. Scared shitless, but still excited.

A Change in Scenery

In other non-reproductive news, it looks like I have, in addition to my lovely bout of sinusitis,
a small case of fungal infection of the toe (my big toe). When I got out of the shower this morning, I looked down, as I was drying off, and saw that a bit of my toe (close to the outside part) was discolored. I thought at first it was a bruise, since sometimes the little kids step on your feet accidentally. When I looked closer, though, it didn't look like that-it was soft and a little flaky, but didn't hurt. And, just for the record, I have extremely strong nails that never flake. Uh-oh. Although I've never personally had one, I know what they look like, so I freaked out and looked it up on Dr. Google. Fuckfuckfuck. There goes the pedicure for the cruise.

I called M up to pick her nursing brain (she also used to be a manicurist, pre-nursing days), and she told me that if it isn't spread across the nail, which it's not, you can soak the nail in hydrogen peroxide three times a day for about 5-10 minutes and it should clear up in about a week. I have to make sure that I keep it clean and dry, and disinfect everything-nail clippers, etc.-because you can spread the infection (apparently it's a type of ringworm-urgh). Just what I needed, right?

13 days until vacation. I'll be really pissed if I can't have pretty toes by then.


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So, on to today's consult. Well, what's to say?

Holy crap. What a difference. It's like comparing a beat-up Ford station wagon to a Mercedes.

The meeting went very well. We got there on time, checked out the waiting room-very large, with a coffee machine and pastries/muffins available for patients (as well as a mini-fridge). The staff was very friendly and professional. The doctor personally came out to get us, which I wasn't expecting; usually, a nurse does that. The RE is a very tiny, cute Asian lady in her 40's (all the RE's in the practice are women, which is cool), so let's call her Dr. Petite. Firm handshake, looked you in the eye and gave us a smile while she led us to her office.

She had our medical information right in front of us, and seemed like she took her time to review the records. She told us that she feels that the combo of drugs that I've been on (long Lupron protocol with Follistim, HcG trigger and PIO) is good, however, since it's been proven that I can produce a fair amount of eggs, to start at half the dosage I've been having, maybe stim a bit longer to let us get the most amount of mature eggs. The problem, she feels, is that my estrogen levels were way too high and that it might have impeded in implantation. She also feels that the lab played a big part as to our success. Yes, I know that they're trying to sell their lab; but, to be honest, it IS one of the best around. And, let's face it-the lab that Dr. Vest uses is okay, but nothing spectacular. Like comparing a Ford to a Mercedes.

So, Dr. Petite said that we can start a cycle in May, if we'd like. I did ask her about whether, due to the tubal issue, a laparoscopy is in order; she felt, since the original HSG showed that the bulging tube was spilling, that tube is still considered viable. She did explain that when you use a large amount of dye during an HSG (which they did), sometimes it will cause a bulge in the tube. She feels that if no other ultrasounds, especially during any of the stim phases of my cycles, showed a hydro that there's a good chance there either really isn't one, or that there is a small one but the tube is still opened, so it's okay. Just in case, she's going to schedule a saline sonohysterogram once I get my period, to see what's going on-which is a hell of a lot easier than another HSG or a lap-woot!

I had an ultrasound, done by the doctor (which we got to watch on a monitor that's right above the exam table-cool), where she pronounced that everything looks great-normal uterus, saw the ovaries and showed me where I ovulated. She also took some cultures (required), and we met with our patient coordinator who seems really nice, scheduled an IVF class (also required, but no big deal) and a financial person. Luckily, insurance will cover this, so it's just a formality.

So, now I have to get a shitload of bloodwork that apparently Dr. Vest never had me do-CMV, syphillis, Hepatitis B and C, HIV, Indirect Coombs, Varicella titer, Cystic Fibrosis profile, type and cross match, TSH, prolactin. Sean has to go for bloodwork too (hah!) and another spankfest at the semen analysis lab. I also have to get the results of my last Pap, and then get blood drawn on cycle day three and schedule the sonohysterogram. Whew! That seems like a hell of a lot of work, doesn't it? But, once we're done, we'll meet our IVF nurse, and we're back on the rollercoaster. I really wasn't expecting this. I was fully prepared to talk about surgery, what to expect, what would happen. I'm starting to feel like it's a new lease on my (reproductive) life.

The upshot was-if it were legal, I'd marry this woman. I liked her a lot-she took the time to answer our questions, really listened to us, and was very reassuring. She feels, especially since I got pregnant once before, that it will happen. I just find it kinda funny that I was orignally referred to her, couldn't go because of cost at the time, but was led back to her anyway. It looks like it was meant to be.

Perhaps a change of scenery is just-at least, in this case- what the doctor ordered.

D-Day

Tomorrow's the big day.

Had to go to my primary doc today-turns out that I have a sinus infection, brought on by my allergies. Wonderful. So, I got my drugs and hopefully they'll work.

Anyways, that's all for now-I'll update when I get back from Big Important Clinic to let you all know what happened.