Dreams and False Alarms

I believe it too

I was rushing out the door this morning, I heard part of this segment from the NPR series This I Believe.

It's a quick read, but worth it.

Over the last 18 months I too have come to believe in Biology, and I find it infinitely more comforting than the religious beliefs that I've courted over the years, and the ones that were knitted into me as a child.  I am comforted by the knowledge that there are processes, some of them work, some of them fail, but that the processes don't hold the key to my goodness, my worthiness, or my destiny.  This time last year I was in such a state of distress about not getting pregnant that I was hardly rational. My longtime therapist fell apart under the weight of her own life, and couldn't bear my off-the-charts decent in to crazy meaning making about why I wasn't pregnant. Painfully, she cast me out. I don't mean that melodramatically, she insulted me and my sanity, my husband and my work.  I did find someone who was better able to handle my pain, and that was when I had the first inkling that I was hoping to get pregnant as the final act of redemption for things I felt terribly ashamed of.

I imagine that some might have felt that I could have turned to Jesus, or Gaia, but that kind of faith didn't touch my pain, it just drove me deeper into my own twisted meaning making.  So at some point I moved to  biology.  It feels gentler to realize that I am not the master of my fate, and that I might have 95% of the needed equipment to make a baby, but that 5% is the difference.  This doesn't protect me from grieving, or sadness, or even the decisions I'll have to make in the future, but it does allow me to grieve what is real, what is true. 

I am nearly 1/2 way through my two week wait.  It is an odd bittersweet kind of waiting. The progesterone supplements make my breast heavy and sore, but I can't feel excited by it.  I had to buy a larger bra on Friday, and one to sleep in. For now I'm calling them my "IVF Bras."  On Tuesday April 8th I'll  know the outcome.

The lovely Dr Calm

We met with the lovely Dr Calm this afternoon, and she was calm, and now I feel calm. She seemed a bit surprised that we'd been converted to an IUI, and seemed to indicate that she might have made a different decision. But in the end, we all agreed that we'd been given a reasonable choice, and that there was still a chance.

I was scared about asking her to advocate for us, but she actually offered to write a letter on our behalf to the shared risk folks.  Whew. 

Our next cycle will be estrogen priming, followed by Lupron Micro Flare (whoo hooo! fireworks in my ovaries).  So this is going to take a fuck of a long time.  If I'm not pregnant this cycle (which could still happen, right?), I'll stop the progesterone suppositories, I'll get my period. I'll pee on an OPK, 1/2 way through my luteal phase I'll take estrogen. When/if I get my period, I do lupron on like day 4 (or something like that), and then continue lupron, gonal F, menopur until the eggs come home to roost, and do my egg retrieval sometime near the end of May, or something. Ok, that part if fuzzy. Obviously the best result would be getting pregnant, but the second best result would be responding normally, getting all the way to ER and ET, and if I'm really being crazy, embryos to freeze.

Oh yeah, and a day or two ago, husband expressed a softening towards aiming for twins. Not that we can control it, but he was firmly in the 'if they are grade a, transfer only one' camp. The reality of this crap- shoot has hit both of us, and being too confident that it will work at all, or work twice, seems crazier than two babies.

Off to shove greasy capsules up my hoo ha.

How to comment

A couple of people in the world haven't ever read a blog. Shocking, I know.  Anyhow, one big stumbling block seems to be knowing how to comment.  It is very simple. There is a line after each post that has some information such as the time it was posted, the category it is in, and then it says Comments, and if you click on it, it opens up a form, where you write in your name (or a nom-de-comment), your email address and then list your own blog if you have one.  Write a bon mot, and click submit. Voila.
Uh, I think I used some bastardized French phrases; please forgive me if they are inappropriate or spelled so oddly, you have no idea what I was saying. 

Underwire bra=I'm a big fat liar

Yesterday I was wearing a very low tech sports bra (what my aunt would refer to as a sling), and I was breast sore all day.  Today, I had to jet out of bed to drive my dad to the airport, and I put on an underwire bra.  I'm still sore, but less than in the sling.

It turns out I can't help but feel as if the soreness is meaningful, even when I promise I won't.

On Sunday I was feeling particularly low, and I wrote this in an email to a friend:

"I too know that I will be mother, and though I don't know how my children will come to me, I know that they will come. At the moment I'm working on letting myself feel the weight of the possibilities. I don't feel filled with dread or anger or even shame, but a low painful sadness that the one thing I wanted to heal for myself, through children (always a bad idea, eh), is coming into a family fully, simply desired and welcomed, with very little to mourn. My own entrance into the world was so fraught with my families prior pain and my brothers death.  It has felt like a wound that only crusts over, but never heals.  And I know that my healing is the only thing that heals my wounds, but this is a very old fantasy, and it has its tendrils deep into me.  I'm going to go through the IUI tomorrow, and fight for staying in the program, do a new protocol and keep on moving forward. But this is setback, and I have to respect that it hurts.  And that is hard--I wish I could just be angry, or obsessively clean my house, or eat a pint of ice cream. "

I just want a baby. I want to get pregnant, give birth and have my dream. I will be a parent, and I know that I may adopt, and that ultimately what I want is to mother, but at this moment, I want this dream.

 

Medicated IUI's are not for sissy's

Oy, my ovaries.  I never did a medicated IUI before, and I must say, it is involved.  My uterus feels sore and full. Hmmm.

Even though we didn't make it to retrieval, I sure made it to severe ovarian pain. Youch.

Physically one of the hardest things about this cycle is that there is an incredible amount of progesterone circulating in my body, making my breasts very sore, and yet it doesn't fill me with hope that this cycle will work. In the mind fuck cycles of last year, I was ecstatic to have sore breasts and heartburn, this time I just feel wary.

Last night I put in my first progesterone suppository--not awful or anything, but weird. I had lots of get up and go this morning, but now I'm sleepy--again, portents and signs are useless.

When I was waiting for my IUI on Monday I witnessed a rare thing: A woman who got pregnant by IVF who thought everyone would be ecstatic for her. She told everyone who walked in, and talked about it endlessly to the receptionists.  On one hand I wanted her to shut the fuck up, on the other, I was impressed (not even sarcastically) with her sense of entitlement to her pregnancy.  I  know that one issue a lot of successful  infertility bloggers struggle with is what to do when they get pregnant--who are they now. I hope that if I get pregnant in this process that I can strike a balance between feeling entitled to my happiness, and being respectful of what others are going through.

Off to take a nap, or go to the grocery store, or fold laundry. Or take a nap.

Over and Out

Well, that didn't go as I'd planned.

We went for our next scan and we had a nice juicy follicle at 21, and another at 17, and the rest were lagging, so we were canceled and converted to an IUI. The good part is that we still get a chance at using the good eggs, the bad part is that we are most likely out of the Shared Risk program. Ok, were totally out of the shared risk program, but we are going to see if we can appeal the termination on the grounds that my ovaries may have been too suppressed by being on the BCP for 26 days, and that without changing protocol we don't know if it is me or the protocol.  It doesn't seem likely that we'll get anywhere, but it doesn't hurt to try.

I trigger at 10:45pm tonight, husband does the dance of the cup and the hand at 8:30 Monday am, and we load me up at 10:45am Monday.  Not exactly what I was planning for.

I have been quite a wreck all week, waiting for this shoe to drop since Thursday morning, so I think I'm spent; I just can't cry or worry or have freak out fantasies anymore.  And that damn hope addict is thinking maybe the IUI will work, and the baby aspirin and the progesterone suppositories will help, and we'll be on the road.  But if it doesn't work, we'll take another run at it with the lupron micro dose protocol and see where we get.

When we were waiting for the prescription today I made small talk with the medical assistants and one came up and asked what we were up to, and I said "I'm just hoping doctor S doesn't come out and tell me it's curtains for this cycle."  She looked at me quizzically and said "You're very good at being happy."  I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, so I asked and she said most people are angry.  I said "I feel sad and worried, but who is there to be angry at? Myself, my body, the doctor, god?  It just is what it is."  And I mean it.  I have spent all my rage. It isn't fair blah blah blah, but it is this reality.

So the last self inflicted shot of the cycle,and then  I'm off to the gooey world of progesterone suppositories.  Ick.

She's seen worse

I started this post a couple of hours ago, but my router is wonky and the whole shebang was lost.

Suffice it to say, we were not canceled.

The ultrasound technician didn't see the eggs as separate, and so it appeared that I had one huge follicle and 4 much smaller ones. The doctor did the ultrasound herself, found the barrier between the two, and I was reinstated as a viable IVF candidate.  There is still a risk that Shared Risk might review the cycle and deem me to be a poor responder, but we're just going to put our hands over our ears and say "LALALA" to that idea, 'k?  Basically, she's seen worse, and so I'm still responding on the crappy end, but not completely craptacular.

I am not doing justice to the emotional roller coaster I've been on since Tuesday's less than stellar scan, but trust me, it has sucked. For instance, I had myself convinced that I ovulated last night, and that I was a freak of nature that was un-helpable with IVF. That was a productive line of thought, let me tell you. Luckily I was so worn out after working yesterday that I sat on couch with my kitty (one of three, but the most reliable evening lap sitter) and my bucky bag and dozed on and off until I could bear to go to bed.  I slept surprisingly well, and made it to the clinic with 15 minutes to spare.  Between the scan and the pre-op appointment, I called about 5 people, got a hold of one and had a good blubber fest (from both relief and fear of what is, or isn't, to come). 

At this point I'm fervently waiting to stab myself with the dull ganerelix needle and put my ovulation fears to rest, along with my posterior.

More tomorrow.

Second verse, same as the first

Inconclusive again...at least I think. The ultrasound tech was not very forthcoming--she thought that what the other one thought  was a the old cyst, may actually be a follicle. Argh.  So the fate of this cycle still hangs in the balance, I think. That's the problem, I've got no actual idea of whether or not to be worried. I wish my husband wasn't out of town on business, aside from the general comfort it would be to have him here, he is also much better at getting information out of people than I am. 

However, I have finally made it to needing IVF pants. My loosest skirt feels pinchy in the waist, and my office has no microwave so I can take my bucky bag.  I have a hot patch (non mentholated) left over from a shoulder thing, so I'm going to put that in my bag and use that if the pain gets too much. And, I work near Target, so I might just nip over for a pair of comfy pants.

I'll update tonight.

Gonal F pen, friend or foe?

So, after all of yesterday's hoopla, I had myself nice and calmed down, and was all set to give myself the 300 IUs.  I've been using an excel spreadsheet to track how much has been used from each pen.  They both had 150 IUs left; or so I thought.  I've been mixing it with the Menopur to cut down on the number of shots I had to do at night, so the first one when in with a satisfying number of clicks, and then pen number two sort of gives me two clicks, but clearly not the full 300 IUs worth of clicks.  Crap. What to do, what to do? I couldn't start over, then I'd waste the 300+ IUs I'd already put in, and be out a vial of Menopur...  And so I decided to just inject and feel freaked out. So I did it,and I managed to hit a blood vessel, and had a nice bubbling up of the red stuff, and got worried that I done an intramuscular shot. After I mopped up the blood (might have been a whole 1/8 of a teaspoon, eek!) I remembered that the blood thing was bad when doing the PIO, but I'm not there yet. Anxiety sure muddles the brain.

Oh, and the price of Gonal F went up since I bought my supply in late February.  WHAT!  Bastards.  I wonder if the price of Viagra has been dropping?

Basically I have to inject myself with the 300IUs today, and hope that whatever I did last night was good enough, and that when I go in on Thursday am there will be continued growth and some additional follicles.  To reassure myself I looked at some of Tertia's archives (I can't find the link this morning), and I think with Kate and Adam she had no follicles on day 8 and then they jacked her way up, and she ended up with 20 at her next scan. I am afraid of having 20, but a nice even 10 would be very reassuring.

I did some much needed tidying this morning, and now I'm going to do some other things I've been putting off...

First ultrasound--Dr Google, inconclusive (now with conclusions)

Ok, I had my first ultrasound today. I had 6 follicles, 3 on each side, and my cyst has decreased by 1/2.  But 6 follicles doesn't sound that good to me. I realize I have no actual information, but 6 just seems low...
On the right: 7, 6.8 and 9.5
On the left: 9.7, 8.7 and 5.6. 

I will probably get a call from my RE sometime between 2 and 4 today, and I really hope they just tell me to jack myself up further on the hormones, and that there is no danger of cancellation.   

Bummer? Not yet, right?

Conclusions:

All is not lost, they are upping my Gonal F from 225am/150pm to 300 am and pm, and then another ultrasound on Thursday.  The biggest issue I have at the moment is getting more Gonal F!  Oh, my estrogen is fine: 235.  I refuse to Google that.