Pick Of The Litter

Fert report is in!

She had 22 eggs retrieved yesterday, with 17 of them being mature.  As of today, 16 have fertilized and are chugging along. 

16.  Holy motherfucking shit, it's like a Little League team.  My donor truly is the original Ovarian Rock Star.

Transfer set for Friday afternoon at 1:30, but there's a good possibility that will be pushed to a day 5 (Sunday), given the number of embryos and the fact that her last cycle had a 5 day transfer.

Wow.  For the first time I am so SO excited.  We finally have an even playing field! 

Bring on the H2O bitches-I'm ready!

We Have Liftoff!!

I peeked at the nest on Friday and saw.....

Aren't they adorable!?  And it's a little appropriate right now since....

We got the phone call this morning-our donor is doing her HCG trigger tonight, with retrieval Tuesday morning.  We'll get the fert report the next day, and then play the transfer by ear (it's set for Friday, which is day 3, but on her last cycle she made to a 5 day, so it's very possible we'll be told to come in for a Sunday transfer).  So here I am trying to get my thank-you card and gift together to bring up tomorrow, because I want to make sure she gets it on Tuesday.

Question for those of you who did DE-did you go to the retrieval with your spouse/partner?  I'd like to, in case of any insurance issues, since I'm the one who deals with insurance, but I don't want to potentially see the donor (I saw her picture only once, but just in case).  Thoughts?

We're on our way! 

Um, Really?

Look at what I noticed on my Estrace bottle this morning...

Yeah, that about sums everything up, doesn't it?

Lining's looking good, donor started her meds this past Friday and is apparently an Ovarian Rock Star, because we might have a retrieval this Friday instead of next Monday or Tuesday.

Holy shit.  This is actually happening!

...And A Partridge In A Flower Box

Last Monday, (the day I started chemically starving my ovaries Lupron) I noticed an odd thing outside my bedroom window.  The day before we put up new shutters (well, we've had them in the basement for four years, but we just got around to painting and installing them) and added our usual flower boxes underneath the windows.  Our bedroom faces the street, so it gets lots of sun and we like to look at something pretty as the summer progresses.  On Monday morning, I saw a bird sitting in the flower box.  Just sitting there.  Staring at me:

Awwww, I thought, isn't that cute?  And, in all the years that we've put up these window boxes, I've never, EVER, seen a bird sitting there!  And, just staring at me?  Weird!

I had no idea at the time what kind of a bird it was-it wasn't a pigeon, was too large for a sparrow, definitely wasn't a crow.  But, it was odd that it wasn't afraid of me, that it wasn't getting spooked and flying away.

The bird finally did fly away, and I saw this:

Looks like the beginning of a nest, doesn't it?

Sean and I watched, fascinated, as every day the birds kept building the nest (yes, there are two birds involved in this one).  There's even a bit of blue landscape tie in the midst of all these twigs and grass blades.  Sean was a little worried that either the cats would freak them out or that we now can't open our bedroom windows or that the concept of watering the flowers is now kaput.  But I was engrossed in this process.

So, starting on Friday the bird (birds?) didn't leave the nest.  Just sitting there again.   And, on Saturday we finally saw THIS:

Yup, two little eggs.  Sean figured out, finally that they were mourning doves, which are common around here, and we did (okay, I did) some research.  They're monogamous birds, both parents incubate (mom at night and early morning, dad during the day) and feed the hatchlings something called crop milk, which they produce in their upper digestive tract.  We can tell the difference between male and female now, because the male has these cool iridescent feathers along the back of his neck and head.  The babies should be hatching within the next 5 days or so.  The not-so-cool part?  Doves tend to rebuild nests in the same place if they feel secure and can have up to 6 broods a year.  We might be screwed on the flower front, at least this summer.

Now, I'm totally not trying to read into this, but really?  Doves building and incubating a nest THE DAY I START LUPRON?  Symbolism, perhaps, or just coincidence?  I'm going with symbolic, seriously, because why now, after all this time?  I have never had something like this coincidentally happen before.  I mean, look at the symbolism of the dove to begin with -peace, faith and hope.  Because doves form pair bonds, they're common symbols of love, specifically marital love, and are mentioned in the Old Testament (Song of Solomon, 2:10-12, which is used frequently in Christian marriage ceremony readings) In ancient Christian tradition the dove is a symbol of mothers and motherhood, specifically the Virgin Mary.  Many people see doves as the reminders that miracles are still possible.  In Hinduism, doves are seen as messengers from the divine.

Should I still see this as symbolism or just a weird coincidence?  Should I not even think of it at all so I don't drive myself even more insane than these hormones are already making me?  I don't know.

All I know is that it makes me happy to see this right now.  And, I'm just going to go with that.

Slumbering Ovaries

Well, hello there Lupron.......I know it's been awhile, but you were kind of a shitty house guest to begin with, and I see that this time is NO DIFFERENT.

Ugh.  Yep, we "officially" began our DE cycle yesterday, after being told that my ovaries are cold and dead suppressed and I swear that I'm already feeling the side effects (combined with the three months of birth control pills, and....well, you get the drift).  Can't wait to add the Estrace into the mix on Sunday-good times!  Whoo-hoo!

I'm glad to be moving forward, finally-we were put on hold because there was a chance that I'd be working (and have 100% coverage for the cycle), but Urban School District apparently has "take your sweet-ass time" as part of their hiring process, so we decided to move forward regardless.  I mean, if you interview and seven weeks later have still heard nothing (and was told that I'd "just have to wait" as an answer when following up), then perhaps it's not the district for me.  I do have an interview on Friday (in the district where I got my first teaching job), so we'll see if that pans out better than the last one.  Hopefully I won't be in the throes of the Great Lupron Bleed-Out for it, but you never know.  Yah!  GREAT times!!

Strap yourselves in-we're in for it now!

I Really Wasn't Kidding In That Last Post.....

About the Sock Fairy (aka my disgusting husband) leaving dirty socks on the floor, not unlike Hansel and Gretel leaving a bread crumb trail to make it home.....minus the fact that bread doesn't smell like rancid cave-aged cheese that's been fermenting in cotton for hours on end.

The proof is below.  This was the only clear shot that I got, unfortunately.  The other ones had the cats cautiously going up to sniff them, then running away crazed as if they bit them on the ass.  Hell, they probably HAD bit them, for all I know-those bad boys can probably get up and walk all on their own.

Hopefully #370 will balance out the insanity.  Please.

370

370.

It's just a number, right?  It could be anything-how many dusty pennies are rolling around in your car, the oven temp you need to set to make those yummy and not-really-helping-the-diet chocolate chip cookies you bought in that sugar low you were conveniently having at the supermarket, the amount of time in seconds it took to yell at your husband for leaving his dirty socks YET AGAIN on the floor in the living room.  Just three little numbers.

Not for us.

It's our donor's number.  Our match.  The person we've been waiting for.  And she's everything that we could have hoped for in a match.  No, she doesn't look exactly like me (and who will, really) but she looks like she could be related to me, and she's a proven donor.  When I got the call to come in and look at the pictures (we get to see pictures if the donor allows) that she sent in I felt an indescribable calm, like I knew that this was the person and that this would all work out.  And it was definitely worth the wait.

Ask, and you shall receive.

We're on our way, bitches!  BOO-YA!

Waiting

Waiting is all I seem to do lately.

Wait for a call for a job interview.  Wait for a call afterwards for a job offer (on the occasions that I DO get an interview).  Wait for another rejection letter or just no response from a prospective employer.

Wait for a donor profile to come our way.

Waiting sucks.  But, it's teaching me to have more patience, to realize that sometimes the good things that happen in life are the ones worth waiting for, and that I can't force something to happen that's not quite ready to occur.

I still hate waiting, though.  We're on to month 5 in the Donor Match Extravaganza.  Back in September we had to fill out a 10 page document about ourselves, our personalities, physical characteristics, what we want in a donor in terms of physical characteristics and personality, and attach some pictures (which was GREAT for my self-esteem since I'm really not at my physical best).  We met with the psychologist who is in charge of the matching procedure to talk about the psychosocial issues that go along with using a donor (ie. do we tell a child, and if so, when, how to deal with family, etc.), although I did think initially it was to make sure that we hadn't boarded the whackadoo bus and decided on a one-way ticket to Crazy Town.  Although, if this waiting game continues, I might just have to consider it.....
 
The only way I can describe this point of the process is that it's a lot like getting picked for the kickball team when you're in elementary school.  As the months go by with no call, it feels a lot like being one of the last two kids left to be chosen for the team-the one who has the crappy reflexes or who can't run fast enough.  I keep trying to tell myself that the longer we wait, the better the match will be, but the feeling that perhaps they won't find a match (which I know is irrational, but who said any of this is rational to begin with?) still tries to grab hold of your psyche.  That is the danger of this whole waiting game-that maybe it's going to be too hard to find someone appropriate, and I can't let myself get freaked out with the "what if's".  It's shitty enough that I'm reevaluating my whole choice in career, given the witch hunt public education is becoming around here (although NJ isn't the only state to do this), but the thought of a "corporate" job makes my stomach heave-I hated it the first time around before I figured out what I wanted to do and started teaching.  Again, this is one of the things that I can't change right now, as much as I badly want to.

Just breathe, I tell myself.  If the wheel turns down toward the ground, it must go back up again towards the sun.

Did I mention that I hate waiting?

Housekeeping

Hey there.  Yes, you. 

Hi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aftermath

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

9dp4dt-Not Promising

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

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

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

*sigh*


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8dp4dt-Obi-wan Lone Embryo

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

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

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

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

And Then There Were...

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

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

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

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

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

Please try, anyway.




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Back From Folli-Land

Yaaay! I'm alive!

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

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

She rocks. Just sayin'.

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

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

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

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

Omelets Abound.

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

14 eggs. All mature and fertilized via ICSI

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

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

Follicle Omelet With A Side of Home-Fries

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

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

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

Let the fun begin!

Keeping the "Z" in Zen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uh oh.....

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

"Soooooo, when are you due?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

So far, so good.

Yaaaaaaaay PHLEGM!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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