Thursday, October 20, 2011
Everything is a GO!
Wednesday's appointment was a little weird. From one angle, everything looked hunky dory, from another, the lining looked like a comet, with the lining as the tail and a strange blip thing at the end. It could be a polyp...could be a bit of left over lining...they have no clue. My regular RE is in Florida and isn't coming back until Monday, so the rest of the docs, interns, and a bevy of med students had an impromptu conference in the office and hallway. It looked kind of like a group of kids trying to figure out what to do when their parents are out of town. In the end, the doctor that checked me came into the room where I was sitting with the nurse and said that they decided I should proceed with the cycle as planned. Woot! So...I've started with 300 units of Gona.l F every night with a blood test on Saturday. I'll take it! 300 units seems a little high to me, though. I know I'm 41 and all, but when I did this last time when I was 37 I got over 52 follicles and touch of OHSS to go along with them. I hope that they can manage to keep me walking that fine line between stimming too slowly and not getting many eggs, and stimming too quickly and then having to slow down so that fewer eggs are mature at retrieval.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Baseline
Ug. I am sick to death of driving to my clinic. The traffic today was so bad going into the city that I was a half an hour late for my appointment, and I gave myself what should have been an extra half an hour or so already! I had to pee so badly that my eyes were literally watering, but there was no where to go in bumper to bumper traffic. Arg! I didn't even have a partially full bladder or anything when I left because it was unnecessary at this appointment. Good thing.
The ultrasound went ok. I have about 6 follicles on one side, 5 on the other, which isn't bad for a baseline count. But, I had fluid in my uterus which made the doctor nervous so they want me to go back for another baseline on Wednesday. My husband was already pissed off today because I was so late coming home, and when I told him that I would have to go back on Wed he REALLY got his panties in a twist. Between the white knuckle drive, the killer Lupro.n headaches, and DH's griping I was ready to just break down in tears and give in and throw in the towel.
Thankfully, we worked things out, I get to drop the Lup down to 5 units tonight, and DH even offered to drive me to the appointment on Wed. I hope the extra fluid that the intern saw on US turns out to be nothing and that I can start stims soon. Fingers crossed.
The ultrasound went ok. I have about 6 follicles on one side, 5 on the other, which isn't bad for a baseline count. But, I had fluid in my uterus which made the doctor nervous so they want me to go back for another baseline on Wednesday. My husband was already pissed off today because I was so late coming home, and when I told him that I would have to go back on Wed he REALLY got his panties in a twist. Between the white knuckle drive, the killer Lupro.n headaches, and DH's griping I was ready to just break down in tears and give in and throw in the towel.
Thankfully, we worked things out, I get to drop the Lup down to 5 units tonight, and DH even offered to drive me to the appointment on Wed. I hope the extra fluid that the intern saw on US turns out to be nothing and that I can start stims soon. Fingers crossed.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Remembering
Today is Remembrance Day. October 15th has been set aside for a day to think about those who have a miscarriage, stillbirth, or a child who has died very young. At 7:00 o'clock, wherever you happen to be, if you are remembering a loss, it is the time to light a candle for an hour and reflect.
I am not one for this kind of reflection...at least not for myself. I have had a miscarriage very early on at 8 weeks. At the time I was devastated, but I don't mourn now. I had a chemical pregnancy which broke my heart at the time, but now barely lingers in my memory. The sadness that breaks my heart today is for others: For Cecily, who lost her twins Nicholas and Zachary when they were just on the cusp of viability. For Missconception who just lost her twins at 20 weeks. For Eve who lost her boy William, for Chon, for Jen, for Mo, For Tertia, for Kristen, For Alex at Firsttimetwins who lost her twin baby girls.....for everyone. There aren't enough candles in my house. There aren't enough candles in the World to shine a light big enough for everyone to see. These children were real. Our grief is real. See us!
Today I remember Catherine Louisa. She would have been my Grandfather's aunt, had she lived. She was born, and died, between censuses. She was a mysterious gap between children on my family tree. Then we found my Great great grandmother's bible, and there she was. My ancestor Sarah's grief was pressed between almost every page in the form of a poem, a black scrap of mourning silk, an obituary, a mourning card, and endless scraps of paper filled with sadness. No one who ever looked upon Catherine's face is still alive to remember her. Her body was buried far away from the rest of our family in up state New York...all alone. I light my candle for her.
I am not one for this kind of reflection...at least not for myself. I have had a miscarriage very early on at 8 weeks. At the time I was devastated, but I don't mourn now. I had a chemical pregnancy which broke my heart at the time, but now barely lingers in my memory. The sadness that breaks my heart today is for others: For Cecily, who lost her twins Nicholas and Zachary when they were just on the cusp of viability. For Missconception who just lost her twins at 20 weeks. For Eve who lost her boy William, for Chon, for Jen, for Mo, For Tertia, for Kristen, For Alex at Firsttimetwins who lost her twin baby girls.....for everyone. There aren't enough candles in my house. There aren't enough candles in the World to shine a light big enough for everyone to see. These children were real. Our grief is real. See us!
Today I remember Catherine Louisa. She would have been my Grandfather's aunt, had she lived. She was born, and died, between censuses. She was a mysterious gap between children on my family tree. Then we found my Great great grandmother's bible, and there she was. My ancestor Sarah's grief was pressed between almost every page in the form of a poem, a black scrap of mourning silk, an obituary, a mourning card, and endless scraps of paper filled with sadness. No one who ever looked upon Catherine's face is still alive to remember her. Her body was buried far away from the rest of our family in up state New York...all alone. I light my candle for her.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Back to Day One...again
Thank you to my friends and readers who pointed out that it was probably the Lupr.on that was making me all brooding and full of doubt. You would think that after so many years I would be aware of this, but no, every cycle the crappy mood takes me by surprise. The black mood has lifted, as it always does, leaving me feeling more hopeful about it all. In short, I'm a ninny.
Today is cycle day one. That means that Pablo* is here and tomorrow I get my happy box o'meds. Yeah! I love tearing into the big medicine chest. Gimme gimme. The clinic should be calling sometime this afternoon to schedule my day 3 baseline ultrasound appointment. As usual, it all seems to be happening so fast. If all goes well, in two weeks or so I'll be having an egg retrieval...and then an embryo transfer. I promise I will be trying to stay hopeful and positive and try not to drift into the swamp of despair. No promises, though.
Last night I had the most vivid dream. I was holding a newborn cradled in my forearm, with his head in my palm and his little feet touching my stomach. We were in the kitchen and my husband was working at the counter and it was pitch dark outside. It seemed so real that when I woke up I could still feel the weight of the baby's head in my hand. I can remember his features and still see the fuzzy white footie sleeper. I have had dreams like this before, and I wish that I could say for certain that it means something, because sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't. In any case, vivid dreams like these give me the warm, hopeful fuzzies.
*my period is not a maiden aunt Flo, but a jealous pool boy who shuts the pool down for a week before going on his merry way.
Today is cycle day one. That means that Pablo* is here and tomorrow I get my happy box o'meds. Yeah! I love tearing into the big medicine chest. Gimme gimme. The clinic should be calling sometime this afternoon to schedule my day 3 baseline ultrasound appointment. As usual, it all seems to be happening so fast. If all goes well, in two weeks or so I'll be having an egg retrieval...and then an embryo transfer. I promise I will be trying to stay hopeful and positive and try not to drift into the swamp of despair. No promises, though.
Last night I had the most vivid dream. I was holding a newborn cradled in my forearm, with his head in my palm and his little feet touching my stomach. We were in the kitchen and my husband was working at the counter and it was pitch dark outside. It seemed so real that when I woke up I could still feel the weight of the baby's head in my hand. I can remember his features and still see the fuzzy white footie sleeper. I have had dreams like this before, and I wish that I could say for certain that it means something, because sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't. In any case, vivid dreams like these give me the warm, hopeful fuzzies.
*my period is not a maiden aunt Flo, but a jealous pool boy who shuts the pool down for a week before going on his merry way.
Friday, October 7, 2011
The double edged sword
Today is not a good day. It's not a particularly bad day, but it aint great. I hate waiting, and while being on day three of the Lupron isn't exactly waiting, it doesn't feel like I'm going anywhere, either. I have been filled today with a sadness and longing, just an ache to have a baby here with nowhere to put it. My blog reader is full of posts of pregnant bloggers and those whose cycles who are underway, or those in the 2ww. All I can think of is why, why, why would I want to put myself through this again? Why couldn't I just let it be.
It is a double edge sword. I want another baby, and this renewed insurance is my chance to make that happen. I have tried all my life to live so I will have as few regrets as possible. When I was rethinking my life's plan, back when we still didn't want kids, I came to the conclusion that parents don't regret having children, but that I would most certainly regret NOT having them. Right now, I feel most certainly that I would love another child, and doing IVF is the only chance to make that happen. If I don't take this chance that's being given me, I'm sure I would regret it.
But the other edge of the sword is pain. Trying to conceive just makes me think of having a baby more than when I was just living day to day. It means joining in the race again, but this time I am over 40, the flea bitten nag that should have been put out to pasture. Everyone around me seems to be the age I was when I got pregnant the first time (34) or even younger than that. They are getting pregnant like crazy. Once this would have made me feel hopeful and positive, but now I just feel left behind...again. I spent years being left behind and being lapped by other people by the time I had my kids, why would I want to do this to myself? Especially now that my chances of success are so much slimmer than before. And my TTC history is so baffling in its total lack of consistency. Years of not getting pregnant, over a year benched from a fibroid, getting pregnant, miscarrying, having twins, not getting pregnant, chemical pregnancy... There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. It's such a mixed bag. And yet, my treatment and protocol never changes.
Two sides. On one there is pain, sadness, and hope. On the other, pain, sorrow, and regret. But only one side has the chance, no matter how slim, of another baby. Which edge would you choose?
It is a double edge sword. I want another baby, and this renewed insurance is my chance to make that happen. I have tried all my life to live so I will have as few regrets as possible. When I was rethinking my life's plan, back when we still didn't want kids, I came to the conclusion that parents don't regret having children, but that I would most certainly regret NOT having them. Right now, I feel most certainly that I would love another child, and doing IVF is the only chance to make that happen. If I don't take this chance that's being given me, I'm sure I would regret it.
But the other edge of the sword is pain. Trying to conceive just makes me think of having a baby more than when I was just living day to day. It means joining in the race again, but this time I am over 40, the flea bitten nag that should have been put out to pasture. Everyone around me seems to be the age I was when I got pregnant the first time (34) or even younger than that. They are getting pregnant like crazy. Once this would have made me feel hopeful and positive, but now I just feel left behind...again. I spent years being left behind and being lapped by other people by the time I had my kids, why would I want to do this to myself? Especially now that my chances of success are so much slimmer than before. And my TTC history is so baffling in its total lack of consistency. Years of not getting pregnant, over a year benched from a fibroid, getting pregnant, miscarrying, having twins, not getting pregnant, chemical pregnancy... There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. It's such a mixed bag. And yet, my treatment and protocol never changes.
Two sides. On one there is pain, sadness, and hope. On the other, pain, sorrow, and regret. But only one side has the chance, no matter how slim, of another baby. Which edge would you choose?
Monday, October 3, 2011
It's all spirk.
Yesterday: We set up the twins' bunk beds for the very first time. The minimum age recommended for bunk beds is 6, and they'll be there at the end of November. I can't believe it! And to really put me over the top weepy, DA lost his first tooth while running around outside. We took pictures and everything. Hubby got the privilege of sneaking the money from the tooth fairy under his pillow.
The twins invented a new word to join the handful of other twinwords they've created. This one is 'spirk'. My geeky husband says it's the name of Captain Kirk and Spock's love child. The meaning appears to be a sound made while burping and/or an adjective of some sort. When my husband and I say it, they break out into uncontrollable fits of laughter, so it may also be a curse word or something disgusting.
Today: I bought Lupr.on and needles from a pharmacy in Maine that my clinic uses for all its fertility medications. It cost me $22.18. The balance of the meds I'll need will set me back an additional $235. The pharmacist informed me that I had saved over four thousand dollars! Four thousand dollars for medications. It boggles the mind. And they probably only cost 100 dollars to produce total. I am alternately grateful that I have insurance, totally stunned by the cost, and unbelievably guilt at how many people have to pay that amount out of pocket. Spirk!
Tomorrow: I get to wake up at some ungodly hour to get my blood drawn at the nearest Que.st labs, about a 30 minute drive away, to make sure I've ovulated. If I have, I get to start shooting up this evening. Yeeehaaa. Or maybe I should say SPIRK!!!*
*I was informed by NB that spirk is indeed the correct spelling. I would go with sperk myself, but what do I know?
The twins invented a new word to join the handful of other twinwords they've created. This one is 'spirk'. My geeky husband says it's the name of Captain Kirk and Spock's love child. The meaning appears to be a sound made while burping and/or an adjective of some sort. When my husband and I say it, they break out into uncontrollable fits of laughter, so it may also be a curse word or something disgusting.
Today: I bought Lupr.on and needles from a pharmacy in Maine that my clinic uses for all its fertility medications. It cost me $22.18. The balance of the meds I'll need will set me back an additional $235. The pharmacist informed me that I had saved over four thousand dollars! Four thousand dollars for medications. It boggles the mind. And they probably only cost 100 dollars to produce total. I am alternately grateful that I have insurance, totally stunned by the cost, and unbelievably guilt at how many people have to pay that amount out of pocket. Spirk!
Tomorrow: I get to wake up at some ungodly hour to get my blood drawn at the nearest Que.st labs, about a 30 minute drive away, to make sure I've ovulated. If I have, I get to start shooting up this evening. Yeeehaaa. Or maybe I should say SPIRK!!!*
*I was informed by NB that spirk is indeed the correct spelling. I would go with sperk myself, but what do I know?
Friday, September 30, 2011
Back on the IVF pony
My clinic called yesterday to let me know the results of the doctor pow wow. They feel that I responded so well last time (50 something follicles, with 22 eggs retrieved, pregnancy and live birth) that they don't foresee a need to change my protocol. On day 21 of my cycle they will have me do blood work to make sure I've ovulated and then I can start the Lupron that day. They also need my husband to have blood tested. So, just like that we are off to the races! Day 21 of my cycle is next Wed, so I have until then to talk with the financial office and make sure that we are all paid up and we are good to go. Trying is better than not trying, having it work is better than it not working, but you can't get it to work if you don't get to try. Here we go!!!
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