Wednesday, August 29, 2012

What's going on?

  • So, I did not drive to Cincy to buy wine - I ended up being too tired and coming up with another good idea for my boss's birthday. I got him a Keurig and one of my friends (who works with us a lot and also sees boss man as a hero/father figure/crazy Irish uncle) went in with me on it. After boss man opened it he sat and stared at it, then said "I either love it or I don't want it at all." Two days later he decided on love and spend a crapton of money buying more coffees for it.
  • OK, conspiracy time. Somebody in medical billing has it out for me. 
    • The first bill isn't really conspiracy fodder, it's more just sad-sigh-crapittyfuck: The polyp removal that they refused to tell me the price for because "insurance will cover it" was not completely covered by insurance and I need to cough up $500. I am taking my time on that.
    • Then it gets really annoying: I got a bill for the anesthesia during IVF. Mind you, the day before egg retrieval the nurse was all "Oh, here's the number you need to call to pay for anesthesia" and I was like "What, thought that shit was included in the large check we wrote?" but I sucked it up and called and paid the $550. So when I got a bill in the mail for $823 (that they had tried to run through insurance too - cute) I was pissed. I called and had to convince the woman that *NO* I did not owe them any money. Finally, she figured out that they had me in the system twice and so had listed the bill and the payment in separate accounts.
    • Now I am starting to get suspicious: The one bill I had sort of known was coming but dreaded so I put it out of my mind - the HCG test. Got it in the mail yesterday. $217.85! Yikes! ...But, what is this? The HCG was only $127. There is a second test for Carbmazepine. Which is apparently a test to measure an anti-seizure medication. One that I do not take seeing as how *I don't fucking have epilepsy*. This fact is apparently irrelevant to the billing woman that I talked to (after waiting on hold for 27 minutes - seriously, hire more people). She was quite convinced that I just didn't know what all I was being tested for - like maybe my doctor had slipped me some anti-seizure medication during my IVF cycle without mentioning it. (speaking of conspiracy theories) She put me on hold for several more minutes so she could "check the document" which I assume means they scan lab orders into the system. But...dum dum was nowhere to be found. At which point, I had to go because I had arrived at school for coaching. She was supposed to call me back and never did, but the RE's office called this morning to tell me that they had talked to her and reassured her that they had not ordered anything but HCG Quantitative.
    • So yeah. If you, scary billing person who hates me, is out there reading this - I am so sorry for whatever it is that I did to piss you off. Probably. I mean, you maybe deserved it. But please stop sending bills.
  • Can I tell you about my baby? When I started coaching speech again M was a freshman and just the gawkiest, nicest kid. He was also awful at the activity. I thought there was no way he would make it. I mean, it was painful to watch him perform. But he worked his butt off and just kept improving. He's a senior now and is amazing. We share a love of poetry and performance. This summer he decided to try doing slam and got invited after his first open mic to compete in a big slam event. A bunch of us went (I am not his only mama) and he ended up getting second and just being generally transcendent. I just had to tell you how awesome he is. 
  • I think there is more but I needs go back to work - stupid busy lately. Work is always cutting into my blog time. Ridiculous.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Can somebody else please just tell me what to do?

It would be totally reasonable for me to drive to Cincinnati (2 and 0 minutes away according to Google) tomorrow afternoon to buy my boss wine, right?

See, I have the world's best boss.* And his birthday is Thursday. And he is one of those people that buys himself everything that he needs. But wine! He always likes having wine. And the Jungle Jim's in Cincinnati has a great selection. (And um, I could maybe also pick up some wine for me. And cheese. And $100 worth of other random things from the international section. Jungle Jim's is awesome and bad for my wallet.)
I am trying to justify this. I don't think it's working.

Truthfully, I probably don't have time. School has started back up again so I am back to coaching. I took a pay cut this year so we could hire another part time coach. Of course, the thinking was that I might be pregnant and want a lighter schedule. Instead, I am not pregnant and it turns out that my coaching load has not lightened very much. Basically, I am working two less hours a week for a $1500 pay cut. Crap. This does mean that I am going to try and be better about saying no. Last year I got a lot of begging from the students to come in extra and stay later, etc. But no more! (I say now, even though I already broke one pledge to not coach the student who makes me want to go all reverse Latrell Sprewell on him. He also happens to be a non traditional student who recently started trying to have a baby with his wife despite his incredible lack of maturity. I do not see this ending well.)

I was kind of hoping y'all would just vote on the options or something in my last post. I am not good at making decisions about my life and neither is A. (We tried to go to a political fundraiser dinner not long ago and the traffic was so bad that we said fuck it and drove away. Since we were dressed up and hungry we wanted to go to a restaurant...but it took us an hour of driving around and discussing it before we decided on one. A full hour. There are really not that many non-chain restaurants in Indy.) If this is how we deal with restaurant choices we are fucked when it comes to deciding whether to do another round of IVF. I am still looking at adoption stuff. And embryo donation. And considering what I can do to optimize my IVF chances...

I need somebody else to play Choose Your Own Adventure with my life because I apparently can't chose which page I want to be on.

* About a week after we failed IVF I was driving my boss to pick up his car from the shop and he asked if the IVF worked. When I told him it didn't he said if we decided to try again he'd pitch in five grand. I would never take it, but I love that he offered .Additionally, he keeps the work fridge stocked with beer, lets me bring my dog to work and reiterated that if I do have a kid we'll put a nursery in the office. Best. Boss. Ever. 

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Sorry for the drop off the face of the earth there...finding the energy to write something has been kind of difficult. I promise I will come catch up on your lives!

I am good at theoretically planning things.

Not actually planning things - that involves details and thought, other stuff that I clearly don't know anything about. No, I mean planning as in "I PLAN to plan things out next week." Man that sounded so good when I thought it. A and I were going to look at all the options to fixing this whole no-kids thing and we'd discuss thoughtfully and come up with the smartest, bestest, most awesomist solution that would end with us being parents.

Except that I am too tired to implement any of the possible plans that involve us getting a child. (Other than the highly illegal "scoop up the 2 year old standing in the middle of the street and take him home" maneuver that I considered a week ago. My neighbors are are awful fucking parents. I stopped my car so as not to run the kid over and it took a full minute before his dad walked out of the house. If I had been distracted I would have mowed a baby down. That would not look good on an adoption application methinks. Also, I hate people.)

Maybe if I write down my thoughts they will become clearer. Or you can vote on them. Or something.
1. Doing nothing. I like this option somewhat as it appeals to my lazy side (which happens to be both sides, front, back and the soles of my feet) but it does not end in baby. Also, A is turning 40 in October and has indicated that he already feels like he is pushing this age-wise. (Not true for everyone, I know. But I think he is feeling his mortality more with his dad's surgery and two uncles passing away within a week of the surgery.) So this option is pretty much out.

2. Donor sperm. Not going to do it. I think even if A were okay with it, I am not comfortable with it. (But for some reason A asked me if we should do donor eggs. I think he does not understand how this works.)

3. Donor embryos. I have to admit, I haven't really given this option much thought. I can't quite wrap my head around it. I think I would rather do IVF again before this, but it would be a possible next step if that failed. Not sure how many biracial embryos are out there.

Mostly it comes down to two main choices:

4. Doing IVF again. I haven't gone in for a WTF appointment. (And really, I think I have about as good an idea as the doctor.) I need to call and make one, but the tired hits whenever I think about it. The actual process of doing IVF isn't a deterrent. Not that I loved shots or bloat or feeling like I had been stabbed after retrieval, but I know what I would be doing and I feel fine about doing it again. And I would love to have a genetic tie to my child and carry a child. But it is expensive and doesn't have a great chance of working. So if it doesn't work, well then fuck.

5. Adoption. The idea of doing foster-adopt scares the SHIT out of me. My cousin has two children that she adopted through foster care but there was a legal battle and over a year of uncertainty. I don't think I could handle having children taken away from me. And international doesn't really call to me for various reasons. So, I think we would want to do a private domestic adoption. Which is hella expensive. Like, more than IVF. Though there are ways to help with that. But still. It seems very *daunting* to adopt. (Though maybe it's like IVF - it sucks but isn't nearly as bad as people make it out to be.)
I've spent the last several days looking at agency sites and reading forums.
How the hell do you chose where to go? And I am pretty sure I would need to like -change houses completely- in order to pass a home study. They would take one look at our damp scary basement that resides in our messy house that is located in the ghetto and check the "Hell no these people can't have a baby" box. Not to mention, I am guessing most first/birth mothers (ack! I would have to become super involved in learning everything I am supposed to do too) are looking to give their kids better lives in better places. Not sure how appealing a white lapsed Catholic and a black mostly lapsed Muslim that live in the ghetto and are super liberal Star Trek lovers would be to an expectant mother.

On the other hand, I have no concerns about not being totally in love with my child. If you handed me a child today and I had to die for it tomorrow, pretty sure I would. And since we are (obviously) not holding out for a non-black child the wait could theoretically take less time. (Once again, assuming somebody picks us despite all the aforementioned drawbacks of being wildly liberal ghetto dwellers.)

So yeah. I don't know what the fuck we are going to do, but I would like to do it soon. (ish.) But my depressed and lazy brain is not cooperating.

 In other news... Work has been busy. (Which has also made blog commenting hard - I have had to do actual work! Madness!) The wedding I was a bridesmaid for was fine, though exhausting. A made their cake, so we both took off that Friday and made it in my office (we have a mile of counter space in the office, as opposed to the inch we have at our house) It was a pain in the ass, but it turned out well.

They look black here, but the ribbon and flowers were navy blue.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012


I am not sure how I am doing. I feel like I am handling everything pretty well, but I think it's because I have put myself on a timeout for a week. After this week we will sit down and figure out the future, but for right now I am trying not to focus on anything at all.
The house seems strangely quiet without our nieces. Al drove them back on Saturday. He wanted me to go with but I didn't feel great and couldn't see spending nine hours in the car as helping my bruised ass at all. Instead I sprawled on the couch reading a book and occasionally crying because I am a moron who thought saving up for a failure of an IVF for three years was a good idea.
I have had three friends on facebook give birth in the last week and a half and two more are going into labor any day. It's awesome that my failure coincides with the biggest baby boom my friends have ever had.
My friend that is getting married was kind of overreacting to a small issue on Saturday and decided to get married after all. I think they have bigger issues and will be divorced within two years but I also know nothing I say will be heard at this point. I tried to listen and ask thoughtful questions and let her know I'd support her no matter what. Hopefully I am wrong about their future.
I need to lay out the options on Sunday. If my parents are still willing to give us the money, do we try IVF again? Or do we start the process towards fostering or adoption? I think A would be okay with being CF but that is not an option for me right now. I don't think he would be okay with donor sperm, but what about donor embryos? I feel like we are starting back at the bottom of the well. I was so focused on IVF for so long and now...I just don't know. I hate it.
My birthday is on Thursday. For the first time I am not looking forward to it.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

My friend that is getting married in one week just called sobbing and asked if she could spend the night. I guess I better pull it together so I can be the strong one. Jaysus.

Friday, July 27, 2012

I thought they wouldn't call until the afternoon. They called at 11:30. 
You know what? I am going to have sushi for lunch. And a diet coke.
And then I am going to go home and have a drink.

Thursday, July 26, 2012


BFN this morning, didn't go in for beta, was strangely zen despite the insane number of pregnant women at the zoo. (And they were all like ten months along. There must be some lore about the zoo making people go into labor.) I am just tired of waiting for what I already know. I want to get the official word so I can move on, however I am going to do that. Sigh.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012


Why oh why does my clinic make me wait until 13dp3dt to have my beta? Seriously, it's another BFN this morning and I have a bottle of tequila waiting for my official grieving period. Also, I would very much like to stop getting PIO injected each night. My ass hurts. But even though it's pretty fucking clear that this IVF shit is a bust I am still following the rules. And it sucks.

The other day all the old biddies (by which I mean middle aged male firefighters) that I work with were gossiping that I must be pregnant because I haven't been drinking coffee and I haven't been joining them for beer after work.And dammit, maybe it's not a healthy response, but I want a beer, maybe even need a beer. Or five.

I am taking the day off tomorrow to take the nieces to the zoo. I think I am going to call and see if I can just go ahead and do my beta then - if I have to pay to get this shit done I would at least like to do it when I'm already off from work.

Time for my only-tangentially-related random story that gets me off of my woe-is-me despair kick.

So, since I am a moron who clearly still had a teeny bit of hope yesterday I stopped to buy more hpts. I have a ton of internet cheapies, but had used all the fancy FRERs. I don't generally go to Walmart, but I was dropping off my bridesmaid's dress to be altered and it was nearby. (A week and a half before the wedding - I thought I might need to wait in case I was all bloated and happy and pregnant. Ha.Ha.) Anywho, I go into the Walmart, fail to find the peesticks for the longest time, then finally find them only to see that somebody had done bought up all the FRERs! I grabbed Answer brand instead since it claimed to be awesome and had three sticks in a package for $9. Boo Walmart I bring it up to the cashier (along with a few other items - I am like a teenager buying condoms, you can't just buy the hpt because then it is glaringly obvious what you came in for. If I buy other things then it's like "Oh I came in here for these Luna Bars and crayons and hmmm...the hpts just somehow fell into my basket so please don't comment on them."
They always do comment on them though. ALWAYS. I don't know if this happens to everybody or if it's an midwest thing or I just look like somebody who wants to hear what you have to say about my pregnancy test or what. Normally, it's something where they are trying to be nice. They'll say "Good luck" and give me a weird smile and I'll smile weirdly back at that and say "thanks" and run the fuck out of the store.
But Walmart apparently has a special breed of cashier who is friendly in a completely different way.

(Um, if you're super pro life you might want to stop reading now.)

The cashier rings everything up without commenting, then asks if that was everything. The biker dude standing behind me jokes about me buying his beer, I laugh at his stupid joke, joke back and then the cashier goes
"OH! I am so sorry, I usually tell people before I ring it up, but you shouldn't buy your pregnancy tests here."
She then proceeds to (loudly) explain that I could go get a *free* test at the crisis pregnancy center down the street because they are soooo nice and will get you and your baby signed up for medicaid and I just have to make an appointment and BLAH BLAH BLAH.

Seriously. Biker dude and I both sort of stood there waiting for her to finish talking. I'm trying to figure out if she realizes the place she is talking about is one of those creepy anti-abortion places that lies to you about shit and whether I should go say something to her manager about the fact that she is promoting this place and dear god is she ever going to stop talking?

She finally finishes, I stare at her for a couple seconds and then I mutter something that makes no sense, like "Oh, these are for IVF so it's okay. Thanks..."

Despite my complete disgust for "crisis pregnancy centers" I will admit that as I walked out I also spent half a second thinking "I wonder if they use FRERs, it might be worth...nah."

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


Man do I ever miss Nancy. I keep seeing her pop up in my google results and everything she wrote makes me happysad.


Still as white as my legs in the sunlight. Which is to say, blindingly white.

Monday, July 23, 2012

9dp3dt and pretending to be normal

Yes, I have been peeing on sticks. Peeing and peeing and peeing. They have all been stark fucking white of course.
95% of the time I am okay, but I have had a few minutes of ugly crying as silently as possible in the bathroom.
Having the nieces means that I am:
A. Mostly wrapped up in actually living, as opposed to staring at posts where everybody got their BFP six days after their three day transfer.
B. Trying my damnedest not to fling myself onto the bed sobbing. I don't need to be pegged as the "crazy aunt"

I remember seeing one of those ecards (or whatever they are called -the ones that have the old fashioned people on them with some witty and/or stupid statement). This one had a lady laughing and said something like "You didn't really think IVF would work on the first try, did you?"

There are a few good stories out there, I know, but each day sucks a little more hope. Not that I had a lot to begin with. I sort of felt like this cycle was going to be a bust. I *expect* those white pee sticks every day. I mean, I couldn't possibly be lucky enough to get a baby, could I? That would be too fucking simple.

I should stop writing about my pathetic negative feelings. It's making me cry and people keep walking into my office.

(Yes, I know I should also stop peeing on sticks, but let's face it. I'm in too deep now.)

In happier news, my SIL and FIL are both doing well after their surgery. (My SIL donated a kidney to my FIL last week, which is why we have our nieces.) They got out of the hospital yesterday and are supposed to spend a couple days at the hotel before they fly home Wednesday. We're bringing the girls back on Saturday.
For some reason I thought to put the girls in day camp last week, but not this week. I think I was thinking they were going back Wednesday. they both really liked day camp and it was great because it wore them out completely. We'd chill after I picked them up, then we'd eat dinner, take showers and they'd go to bed at 8:15 or so. Completely zonked out. This weekend we went to the park, the library, a play, and to get some braids.

The five year old told me last week "Grandma said not to let Aunt Io do our hair." Which is a good call. I can hardly handle combing my own hair, I definitely don't know what to do with their hair beyond teasing it out and making references to Angela Davis. But the eight year old went swimming at day camp without a cap on and her braids came loose. Irreparably so.

She had a couple days of poofs in ponytails, but it kept coming out on top and wasn't a very workable solution. So I asked a friend where to go and she sent me to an African hair braiding place dead in the middle of the ghetto. (I live in the ghetto, but in like the suburbs of the ghetto. There is a Starbucks and a hipster brewery about five minutes away. And people don't get shot quite as often.) It was really interesting to go into the hair braiding place (and shoe, clothing and incense store. They were diversified.)

Despite the fact that the women working there were talking about me (ladies, I may not speak your language, but I sure can tell if you keep glancing at me and gesturing towards me with your head) they were very nice, if frustrated that I couldn't tell them exactly what type of braids I wanted her to have. (I felt like an idiot for not having researched beforehand. It hadn't occurred to me they would want more direction than "Give her braids that will last at least a week and look appropriate on a child.") N ended up getting cornrows that sort of met where a ponytail would be. She was very happy. 

This week, A took Monday-Wednesday off work, I am taking off Thursday and then on Friday they are going to go have a sleepover with A's younger brother, who also lives in Indy. Which is good, since that is beta day. And if it's a 0 I am going to need that night to be kid free.

Edit: I know it is quite possibly too early to get a second line. But rationality has never been my strong point.

Thursday, July 19, 2012


What? Of course I am not obsessively googling. Of coooouuuurse not. Nope, not at all, not. at. all. Except maybe a little. Or a lot.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012


I keep typing things and then being unable to really figure out where the story is going...I guess it just rambles.

Saturday felt weird and rushed and like it went on forever.
The embryologist gave us the picture of the two embryos being transferred and slipped into the middle of the conversation that there were no embryos to freeze. It was this weird casual gunshot in the middle of the conversation. I felt like screaming "STOP! I need a moment to grieve."
I didn't, of course. I just bit my lip hard and tried to smile while she talked about how she graded Starbuck and Apollo, what degree of fragmentation they had and that she was going to do some assisted hatching, and wasn't this exciting?
But just like that, after all the follicles I had, we ended up with truly one shot at IVF. There will be no hail mary through FET. And while I know that Starbuck and Apollo could stick around (please please do, kids) I know that they weren't super looking embryos. We don't have a fifty percent chance. We maybe have a 20 or 30 percent chance.
It just doesn't seem fair for her to slip that information in like it wasn't going to hurt.

I haven't cracked open a bottle of wine or stopped taking my vitamins, but I am not feeling terribly hopeful.

(I haven't had a two week wait since A was diagnosed four and a half years ago. I don't know how people do this each month.)

I gave A all the suggestions, but he thought he'd have until Monday to made the CD, so the last minute CD all came from things he had on his computer.
Started off with a little dialogue from Rocky IV:
Now you're gonna have to go through hell, worse than any nightmare that you ever dreamed. But in the end... I know you'll be the one standin´.
You know what you gotta do. Do it

Then of course some Rocky theme music. The doctor and nurse liked that. I did some arm pumping and interpretive dancing in the stirrups since nothing was clamped down on my cervix yet.

Of course we only got through a couple more songs. (Queen's You're my Best Friend; The Killers' All These Things That I've Done - The first is "our song", the second is the song I listen to when I need to feel motivated)

They also made me go to the bathroom and pee just a little because my bladder was too full. Making somebody pee *just a small amount* when their bladder is that full is cruel. I was holding it okay until then. After that it became torture. Their bedrest policy is 20 minutes there, take it easy afterwards with no heavy lifting.

I zoned on the couch for a few hours, tidied up the guest room a bit, A left to get the nieces, and I met up with the bachelorette party at dinner. (Contrary to my expectations, the bride was very nice about my flaking on being the driver.) The waitress was terrible and the food was okay (entrees are generally $30 or so, which is definitely on the high side for Indy) but we had a pretty nice time sitting outside. I am sort of a peripheral member of the friend group, so a couple of them (there were only six of us) I don't see that often. I hadn't met J's new wife, who is super cool (and who later kindly gave me my progesterone shot at the bar) but I definitely approve. More interestingly, they had just had their first adoption meeting that morning. So, hopefully I get a kid, they get a kid, the bride gets a kid (they are going to start soon), and the other two girls...well, they are done with kids but one is getting a new kitchen! So, pretty exciting all around.

I stayed for a bit at karaoke drinking Sprite, getting a shot in the butt, and watching J's new wife totally and unfairly kick ass at karaoke (professional singer - not fair) then skipped out in time to see the nieces off to bed.

Took the nieces to the park and shopping for food and shoes on Sunday (then had to go buy more clothes yesterday evening after realizing that my SIL had packed all of two shirts for the 5 year old to wear for two weeks.) This week they are in day camp, which seems like a wonderful invention. They were so tired yesterday that they went to bed with no protest despite the fact that it was still light out.

Shit, I typed all the above and it's still only Tuesday.
Did I mention that this 2ww stuff sucks?


Saturday, July 14, 2012

Progesterone and bachelorette parties

I wonder if I am the first person in the history of our local dive bar to get an injection in the bathroom from a lesbian I just met that night... Probably not.

Meet the kids

Starbuck and Apollo are now hanging tough in my uterus. Starbuck is an 8 cell B- grade and her Apollo is a 6 cell B grade.
No frosties.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Rocking out with my socks

Last night I got an awesome package in the mail from Dora which contained some super lucky socks and a lovely note from her.
I am rocking out with the lucky socks today in honor of Nancy, who was always supportive and always had the best socks.

Aaaand...I'm going to put them on again tomorrow.
I just got a call from the embryologist who said we are on for a 3-day transfer tomorrow. I asked her if the embryos were okay and she kind of hesitated and said they were a little slow and fragmented, which is why they wanted to get them back in the best environment. (Not sure who told her my uterus was the best environment, but we'll go with it.Also, would somebody tell my children that when dividing you should be going for even numbers?! This is what I get for all those years of not paying attention in math.)

So yeah. Tomorrow is going to be interesting.

  • Transfer at 10 am.
  •  At 2:30pm, A leaves to go meet up with his sister halfway to St. Louis and pick up two of our nieces. While his sister is donating a kidney we will have two of the five kids for two weeks. Originally, we were supposed to have all five, then none, now we have just the two younger girls. (Ages 8 and 5) I got them signed up for day camps for next week, so they should have more fun than if they had to come to the office with me all day. The one camp that I found that took five year olds and wasn't either really expensive or far away had no space for an 8 year old, so they are going to different camps, which I feel badly about. 
  • At 3pm I am supposed to be picking up friend to be the designated driver for her bachelorette party. I think I am going to have to back out of some of my duties. The plan was to get pedicures, then have a nice dinner with a small group of girlfriends, then go out karaoking at our favorite hole in the wall that used to be a strip club and is now thankfully smoke free. I am thinking that pedicures sound like a lot of chemicals and I don't want to be out too late. So I will join them for dinner and leave karaoke early. Knowing my friend (who I swear, despite what I am about to say, has a lot of good points) she is going to be pissed and bitch about me not planning my IVF around her wedding plans better. Let me tell you how much I care.
So...I hope you are rocking out with your socks and tattoos out and if you could, send some good vibes/prayers/magical brainwaves/whateveryagot at my slow ass embryos. 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Songs that encourage knockupedness

On my post-retrieval instruction sheet we got instructions on going into the transfer. The last line about the transfer says:
"You may bring your favorite music CD to listen and relax to during the transfer!"

I was going to listen to Queen's Greatest Hits CD, but perhaps I shouldn't be thinking about my listening pleasure and instead think of the message I should be sending the embryos. After all, my genes do not need encouragement in the Fat Bottom Girls category.

My friend K had a couple of suggestions:

Reunited and it feels so good
Reunited 'cause we understood
There's one perfect fit
And, sugar, this one is it
We both are so excited
'Cause we're reunited, hey, hey

Just the two of us
Just the two of us, we can make it if we try
Just the two of us, (Just the two of us)
Just the two of us, building castles in the sky nestling in mom's uterine lining
Just the two of us, you and I

Anybody have any other good suggestions?

Still in the game

Thanks for all the support yesterday you guys! It was nice in my drugged up haze to see people commenting and giving support.

I wasn't expecting my ER to hurt so much! They knocked me out for the actual ER but as soon as I woke up it was like I had been stabbed. I made A stop and get me the prescription for Demerol before we even went home. I arranged about thirty seven pillows on the couch, drank a few gallons of gatorade, ate a couple bowls of Kashi (more protein than an egg! I assume that means it has a lot of protein) and knocked myself out with the drugs.

I feel a lot better this morning. Still a little sharp pain, but it's less and only when I move. My stomach was churning all morning though, waiting for the call from the embryologist. I met her yesterday and she seemed really nice and promised not to pick any funky looking sperm.
At 9:30am I became convinced that she hadn't called yet because they saved the bad news for last. At 9:45 I was frantically googling "eleven eggs retrieved" and reading stories of fertilization gone wrong. (And right, but I ignored those ones as they didn't feed into my fears.)

At 10:09 she finally called. I tried to sound all normal-like on the phone.

Sorry, who is this? Oh yes, almost forgot you were going to call! Why yes, I *am* mildly interested to know how the fertilization went. I wasn't about to puke from nerves or anything, I am a mature adult who recognizes that nothing I do will change anything that happened in the lab OH GOD TELL ME TELL ME!

8 of the eggs were mature, 7 fertilized with ICSI

I am okay with this. I would have liked to have a gazillion eggs, which all fertilized and immediately started tap dancing and dividing, but seven is doable. Seven gives us a good chance to make it to transfer, maybe (hopefully) have a couple left for an FET if it doesn't work this time. I feel neither ecstatic nor devastated.

She wasn't sure yet if we would do a Day 3 or Day 5 transfer -  she's going to wait until tomorrow and check them again before she makes that decision.

Which does make me wonder - do they look like some might arrest? Can you tell at this point that some are crap? That they are ALL crap? Is she thinking we'll need Day 3 because they are all going to go to hell? ...I guess I have my new irrational thing to obsess over.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012


Eleven eggs and I think somebody stabbed me in the right kidney.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012


Al gave me the trigger shot yesterday, which was not too bad. (I had the idea doing a muscle shot instead of a SubQ would be a million times more painful, but it really wasn't. I am hoping that the PIO surprises me in a similar manner.) A got home right before he was supposed to inject me, so I got it all prepped and explained what he needed to do.
So, first I tell him to make sure it's all the way up, no air bubbles. Of course, he doesn't brace his fingers properly, just pushes on the syringe as I am telling him to be careful, and sends a tiny squirt up. No big deal, we're doing 10,000 units, it's 95% still there. I tell myself to calm the fuck down.
He does the shot while I talk to him and it's not too bad.
Then this morning I decided to pee on a stick just to make sure that the HCG shot wasn't made of water or something. (And you might be the only time my pee will ever light up a second line. Opportunity not to be missed.)

And nothing. No second line.

This would be the point at which I lost my motherfucking mind.

I asked A about doing the shot and apparently he didn't pull the *plunger* back to check for blood and make sure he hadn't hit a vein. He pulled the *needle* back. A is smart, he really is, but WTF? I was angry at myself for not explaining better, angry at him for not being logical and reading directions, for running late, for not being obsessive and watching videos in 7:30am I was panicking and pissed. What if he hit a vein and so the HCG shot just...I don't know, whatever HCG shots do when you hit a vein that involves them not triggering you properly for IVF and thus wasting all the money you saved up and squandering your only shot at having a biological child...?!
I ran out to the store, bought another test (the first one was a cheapo that came in a pack of 25 so I could be obsessive as I approached the beta) and peed on it.

And nothing. No second line.

I paged the nurse, then looked at the stick again and there was a second line.Apparently they aren't kidding about waiting more than two seconds after the pee reaches the test area to lose your shit.

The nurse called and laughed and said we are fine.

Edit: No worries, I am feeling okay now, but this morning my brain was on overdrive. Can I blame lupron *withdrawal* for finally going lupron crazy?

Monday, July 9, 2012

Update for my own records someday

Def. going for the trigger tonight. On the right I have three 21s, one 20, two 19s, one 18 and one 17. Plus some undefined "more" that she didn't bother measuring. I have a feeling she only counts the first eight on each ovary. On the left she measure one 21 and four 20s.
I just hope they aren't overripe. Lining is a 12.

On a side note, while I don't begrudge anybody their IVF insurance (my god, I wish I had some of that) I don't appreciate hearing somebody *bitch* about the fact that *every time* you come in for an ultrasound you have to pay a *$35 copay*. Not when I'm paying $450 each time. Ugh. So much for talking to people in the waiting room.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Secret handshake

When I started blogging again I tried looking through my old reader to see who was still around. A lot of people I followed had quit blogging. Some people I had kept in touch with, some I remembered well, a few I hardly remembered. (If I havent stopped in to say hello, tell me to do that!)

I was sad to see that a lot of blog friends that I hadn't kept in touch with were no longer blogging. Nancy was among them. I had almost friended her on facebook a few times, but I am always afraid of friending other people on facebook. I'll accept friendships if I know you vaguely from high school but I always feel like if I try and friend somebody else that they will roll their eyes and click ignore. Especially after I have dropped off the face of the blogging earth. Now I am angry with myself that I didn't click "friend" because she really was. I reread some of the emails we sent back and forth and laughed and cried. She was warm and sassy and felt like the coolest big sister a girl could ever find online. I wish that she had been able to stay forever safe in the golden haze of my memory. Nancy, I'll be rocking out with my socks this week and thinking of you.

And I will have plenty of sock wearing in the next week. I had my second scan on Saturday and my follicles were working overtime. The eight on the right all grew so I have an 18, four 16s, a 15 a 14 and a 13. She said they had recruited were more but didn't measure them. On the left I now have six: an 18, two 16s, a 15 and two 13s. So I am going in tomorrow morning (Monday) for the last scan and triggering tomorrow evening for a Wednesday retrieval.

I can definitely tell at this point that I have some full ass ovaries. I'm not going to lie: I am wearing maternity pants today. (From a garage sale, I couldn't pass them up for $1) None of my regular pants are fitting unless I want to feel like the waistband is getting ready to pop my ovaries. I went to a friends birthday party last night and walked around in a dress looking guttastic and not really caring. It was sort of best girlfriends were there and they all know about the IVF, but in general I havent told the whole world. But then another friend made a joke about me being pregnant (I was talking about my hair turning curlyish) and it was one of those record scratch moments where we all looked at him. then I had to tell him so he didn't feel bad. And then another friend referenced it in front of her boyfriend so I gave an impromptu explanation to half the party about what my ovaries are up to these days.

Part of me wants to be total normal about it, because I talk about everything else, so why should infertility be taboo? It's not the only thing I want to talk about, but it's a pretty big part of my life, especially right now as I go into a bathroom at the party to mix up my menopur and inject that (burning! Why the fuck does it feel like ACID?) medicine into my stomach before I go back out to drink more tonic water and chat. IVF shouldn't be sometng that anyone is ashamed of. I tell perfect strangers, but then I have never much cared what random people think of me.

But at the same time, I don't want *everybody* in my little world to know because what do I say if it doesn't work? Or I miscarry? Normal people don't have to worry about announcing their every reproductive move and there is a reason they don't announce as soon as they get knocked up.
Also, one of my friends mentioned that she had remembered my blog and looked it up to read. So, I better stop talking trash about her. (hehe, love you Melly)
I know I am jumping around a bit, but the last random thought I had...has anyone ever talked the other women in the waiting room? I want to say hi, but am afraid I will offend somebody or something. Dont laugh at my lameness, but I brought Life from Scratch with me to my last appointment thinking it could serve as a secret code to anybody else who reads IF blogs and wanted to start a conversation.
One of the things Nancy and I had emailed about was having a secret IF handshake so we could recognize fellow IF bloggers. I could use that now.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

1st check post stims

Okay! Follicles and levels checked today. I have eight on the right and four on the left. And my levels are apparently all fine. (I do like that my doctors office gives me all the numbers. I absolutely take them and google and obsess and freak the fuck out, but that makes me so so much happier than if they just said "yes, you are doing fine") So, I am okay with that. An even dozen for today. And most of them are at 11 or 12 (one is at 9 or 10, one is at 14, and maybe one at 13? She gave me the printout but I am not walking ten feet to the table to check) I go back Saturday morning for a check, then I am guessing trigger maybe Monday if I keep progressing about the same. In not as great news, my head might explode before I make it to the weekend. I have a sinus infection and it is breaking me.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

We're all going to die

I love coaching my college kids (speech, not any sort of sport. One of the guys next door apparently had decided that I coach volleyball and said so a couple months ago, at which point my fat uncoordinated ass fell on the floor laughing)

One of the things I don't love about coaching is driving to tournaments. For the most part during the regular season we only travel five or six hours away, but that's a long drive when you're leaving a tournament at 9pm after two days and you've been going since 5:30am. Also, while I don't mind when we get minivans, I hate driving huge Suburbans. And this year they added 12 passenger vans to the fleet.

Turns out that passenger vans are dangerous. In order to drive students in these death traps, all the coaches had to watch a video and pass a quiz for insurance purposes. The video had little segments about different aspects of driving the van and each one basically ended with "if you don't follow instructions you will roll over and die" People. PEOPLE. It is like they made this video just for me. I am absolutely a worst case scenario assumer. Every time I changed lanes in the van I would make all the kids help me triple, quadruple check blind spots before I yelled "We're all going to die, here we go", closed my eyes and changed lanes.

(Okay, I didn't close my eyes.) The kids all found this vastly amusing and one girl did a wicked good impersonation. But I don't think they realized I wasn't completely joking. I would be terribly sore after driving because I was so tensed from being hyper vigilant about the slightest wind gust or being cut off or anything that could possibly kill us. (Because this is what happens when a gust of wind hits the van. You roll over and die.)

This is sort of how I approach a lot of things in life. I assume the worst case scenario. And then when the van doesn't roll over or I don't get fired, I am happy and relieved. And when the worst is true, well...I feel like I have already worked through some of the emotion. So it's not as bad. (This is my theory and yes I totally see the massive gaping batshit crazy flaws in it.)

So this week was awesome in terms of my neurosis. I can only imagine it will get better as the cycle goes on. And by better I mean, oh shit. I took my last bcp on Sunday morning. The doctor guessed I would get it on Wednesday but it didn't show up. Didn't show up Thursday. CLEARLY I was never going to get it. I thought for a half second it showed up Friday so I called and the nurse was like "oh good, come on in" at which point my period stopped. Because CLEARLY something is wrong with me. I had my CD1 check anyways. Okay levels (LH was .95, E was 52, she *said* that was okay) She didn't think I'd get more of a period because my lining was so thin (though Saturday of course my period actually came a little more after I was all, hahahaha silly me wearing these pads in a precautionary manner) and my AFC looked pretty small. She didn't give me a number, but she was pointing them out and it looked like 2 on one ovary and five on the other. I'm hoping there are more and they were just small. Or hiding. Or something. Do they do that on CD0 or CD1? Combining my low AMH levels with this, I have become convinced that most of my eggs are already dead.

In other news...
I started Gonal f this morning. I love the pen. Man, that is a great invention. Menopur starts tonight.
We babysat last night for some friends' girls. It was fun. The youngest was conceived when we started trying at the same time. We had dreams that we'd be able to have kids the same age.
I really need to take my bridesmaid dress in to be fitted. The wedding is a month away. I am going to have to ask them to leave room for bloat, luckily the dress has a weird draping thing in front that should hide it a bit.
A is making granola right now and it smells heavenly. I will ask them to leave room in the dress for a few extra pounds too.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012


Okay, the last post was me being very worst case scenario. My boss wasn't happy, but sort of said "mistakes happen, fix it" and I have come up with a doable solution. So, I will live

I really need to not freak out in advance.

One of those days

You ever have one of those days where you really want your period to start so you can get on the IVF train but it doesn't? And then you get to work and realize that you screwed something HUGE up several months ago without realizing it that may get you fired today (probably not fired, but definitely major trouble)? And your boss didn't say anything on the phone when you told him, was just quiet and then said he would call you back so now you're sitting at your desk feeling sick and waiting for the hammer to fall?

It's going to be one of those days today.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Fat fingers

Ack. My ring was getting tight because I have gained weight. Also,I am feeling puffy in general, so I tried to get my ring off and had to use Windex.
A suggested I just get a chain for my ring but I think I am going to get it resized.

I am trying to pretend it isn't Sunday. I really don't feel like going back to work tomorrow after this long lazy weekend. (I am also trying to pretend that A isn't on his way home from his Man Weekend, because that would mean I would need to get up and do the dishes I have been piling up in the sink.).................... A left Friday morning with our friend Geo for their yearly trek south to meet up with another friend amd play golf, drink scotch, and...well, that might be the extent of their manliness. My friend Michelle kindly picked me up at 6am to take me to the doctor for my polyp removal. .......................... I gotta say, anesthesia is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Not being awake was great and I felt less crampy afterwards than I did with the sonohysterogram. I was a little tired all day and some spotting, but otherwise all good..................... Saturday was a wedding shower, but otherwise I just laid on the couch. Which is what I am doing now instead of laundry or dishes or showering. I did however make a quick batch of blueberry jam, so we can pretend I was productive despite all other evidence to the contrary. ........................... I also took my last bcp this morning so now I wait for my period to start. I am rather hoping it starts quickly. The sooner it starts, the sooner *everything*

Wednesday, June 20, 2012


I need to type something or my head is going to hit the keyboard. Which would be okay, as my key board looks fairly comfortable right about now, but it is a pullout keyboard and I think my forehead would probably smash into the upper deck of my desk.
I am assuming it's the Lupron that is making me this tired. Either that or somebody slipped me a roofie. My boss and I were talking about something (what, I don't remember. my brain, it is fuzzy) and he stopped and looked at me after I said something stupid and remarked that I really needed a nap.
I occasionally get aural migraines that don't really hurt, they just make me feel discombobulated and everything looks a little trippy. That is kind of how I feel today. Incredibly tired and slightly tripped out.

But I have things to talk about! I do...if I can remember them...crap. WHY IS MY BRAIN SO TIRED?
(My mother has remarked before that while she loved the end results, being pregnant for her was like walking through Jello for nine months. This seems vaguely Jello-like, which makes me wonder if I get pregnant if this is why my brain on pregnancy will feel like. Like I am not already scatterbrained enough.)

Oh yes, things.
I had a moment of hesitation this morning before I did the needle and over-thought the dart throwing motion. I happen to be terrible at darts. So I somehow bounce-stabbed myself two times before I actually got the needle in. Doh.

I can't remember the rest, which is just as well. I am off to take a nap.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Shootup at the Io Corral

Yeehaw! I did my first shot of Lupron this morning. It was pretty easy, despite my fear of air bubbles. (I am terrified of air bubbles. I have this worry that I will miss a teeny tiny air bubble and it will drop me dead. Probably an unreasonable fear, but I never, ever claimed to be reasonable.) The initial plunge took me about 15 seconds of staring at my belly and working up the courage, but those needles are so tiny I hardly felt it. I had a little rash at the site for about an hour and that was it.

Somebody please tell me the rest of the injections are this easy. Lie to me if you have to. 
(I know PIO isn't, but we'll ignore that for as long as possible, mmkay?)

Saturday I was on my feet all day. In the afternoon I went over to the hall to help my boss cook for his ex-girlfriends wedding. (They broke up sometime around the year I was born and he is her daughter's godfather.) With a couple other friends we grilled a hundred pieces of chicken, a hundred hamburgers, a hundred brats and forty hotdogs. It was hot, so very very hot, but a good time. There were about 160 people at the wedding and it was very nice - casual, picnic style and friendly.

I will be interested to see if I have the side effects from Lupron that I keep reading about - I had a meltdown on Sunday where I was bawling and arguing with A two-year-old-tantrum style. Sadly, I can't blame it on the Lupron since I hadn't started it yet. I think I was just more exhausted and on edge than I realized and when A made [what he claims was] a joke [that was NOT funny] I lost it and got angry. Which made A say stuff, which made me start bawling, which made A say dumber stuff, which made me bawl even harder. It's all fine now and A was very sweet to me after I got up from the three hour nap that I clearly needed. So yeah. Hopefully the Lupron doesn't give me terrible mood swings since I am capable of having them all on my own thankyouverymuch.

I also got the rest of my meds today -  Menopur and Gonal F. The Gonal F is in pens, which seems pretty easy, but I will need to figure out the Menopur. I have the European version, so there is breaking glass involved and I need to get syringes since it didn't come with them. Will need to figure that out asap. Anybody use this and have any tips?

I also need to mention all this to my boss at some point. I don't know why I haven't told him yet. He knows I am having a uterine polyp removed on Friday and that I got a bunch of drugs in the mail, so he might have figured something is up. I think I am worried that he'll be disappointed that I am trying to have kids or something. Or that he will be sad for me if he knows about the cycle and then it doesn't work and I have to deal with his sympathy. Whatever the reason, I have put off telling him. (My boss is more like family than just a boss. The office consists of me, him and the two dogs. Sometimes our VP.) I need to tell him, I just need to figure out how to breezily drop it in conversation like "NO BIG DEAL, JUST IGNORE WHAT I AM SAYING."

In other news...tonight I am planning a bachelorette party. This is the bride's second wedding and the first bachelorette party ended with her getting kicked out of the limo for throwing up and calling her fiance for a ride while she was standing on a street corner crying. (For the record I was with the boys that night watching sports and the other planner for this time was in labor during the last party.) So I feel pretty confident that whatever we plan will be a success. Comparatively.  As long as we don't leave the bride drunk and crying on a street corner.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

The good, the bad, the goodbye money

The good: no HSG! Just a sonohysterogram. Which is making me crampy but was no worse than a pap. Edit: oh shit these cramps got worse. My husband is now questioning if I can handle pregnancy. The bad: I have a little polyp, so I need to get that removed in the next two weeks. Ugh. The goodbye money: this was the "sign all the consents and hand over several thousand dollars" appointment as well.

HSG? Erm.

I was all cool as a cucumber about today until last night when I was googling stuff about getting my HSG and landed on Stirrup Queens and read this:

Maybe I’m going to sound like a big wuss, but the HSG was the most pain I’ve ever experienced. It’s my 10 when they ask you how the pain is on a scale of 1 to 10. Giving birth to twins vaginally did not even come close to being as painful as the HSG.

Now I am eying the one hydr0codone pill I have left over from when I had a bad bike accident and wondering if I should take it before I go in.

Monday, June 11, 2012


This post is just verbal vomiting, mostly about my mother, feel free to skip it...

I told my mother about our infertility shortly after we found out that A had CBAVD. She has been...sort of supportive? We're not big on talking about things like this in my family. But in her own completely wrong way she has been supportive, like telling me about laptops or sp.erm mixing or telling me that her best friend adopted and then had a surprise biological child.Thanks Mom, that does not help at all.

There have also been some moments where I have been *really* angry with her.

A year or so ago she gave me an article to read. It was from some Catholic magazine and was an article about what to do if you are Catholic and infertile. ("What to do" was basically be summed up as "we know you want to, but don't do fertility treatments because it makes the baby Jesus cry") Now, my dad is super Catholic. Goes to church every Sunday, hosts a church group in the living room on Wednesdays, takes an old blind woman to church every week, hates that my sister is gay, and protests abortion. My mother on the other hand is not any of this. She was raised Lutheran. Doesn't go to church, hosts a drinking group on Thursdays, hates blind people (well, maybe not this one), joined PFLAG and threatens to donate my dad's collections to Planned Parenthood when he dies.  
She does NOT sit and read through my dad's Catholic magazines.
Ergo, she told my father (despite my request that she not) about our infertility. And he then chose to pass on an article saying that I am going to hell if I do IVF.
What the fuck was the point of that?

Then last fall my mother sat and cried as she told me how much she wants a grandchild. Which...yeah. I would like to provide one of those and can't. So now I feel even worse. And when I say that we can't afford it yet, she says how much she wishes that she could give me the money but that my father wouldn't approve because *Jesus*.
A. My mother has plenty of her own damn money. My father would never know if my mom handed me 10K.
B. Why tell me this? Seriously, it just makes me feel worse and it makes me angry with you. I didn't ask for money but I feel disappointment because you are saying "Oh, I want to give you money" then "But oh, I won't because your father somehow makes the decisions about my own personal money." WTF Mom. I didn't ask you for the money because I didn't want the disappointment of hearing you tell me no so you do it for me?

So that's pretty much where we left it, other than random comments about how much she wants a grandchild, at which point I grind my teeth and say nothing.

And then.
(The timing on this is amazing - seriously, nobody other than a very few close friends and the entire Internets know that we are finally starting IVF)

On Friday I took my dad out for dinner. It was his 72nd birthday. My mom had gone to visit a friend and I told A he was welcome to skip out and go see a movie with his brother. So, just me and my father. It was kind of a painful meal because I tried to take him somewhere nice and I think he didn't like me spending money on him so he refused to get an appetizer or a glass of wine or dessert or anything at all expensive on the menu. Also, my father doesn't talk unprompted. At all. Doesn't respond to verbal cues either - you have to ask a direct question most of the time. Having a conversation with him is like puling teeth. On the phone I usually have to ask if he is still there because he doesn't make any verbal acknowledgement of what you are saying.
So after an hour of trying to force conversation we went back to my parents house and sat with teh dogs and watched tv for a bit. THEN he wanted to talk. Since he was now another year closer to death he wanted to know if A and I are going to ever have kids. The few times he has asked this in the past I have sort of mumbled something about "someday" but this time I just said we had some medical issues. "Well, yeah, your mom mentioned that. And said you might need $10,000. Do you know anybody who might have $10,000?"

Oh gee, I don't know dad, maybe you?

I told him I didn't want to ask since I knew he didn't agree with IVF and he sort of shrugged and said he could deal with it and would give me the money. (Oh, before all this he also asked about if we had kids would they be baptized and A and I really needed to go get our marriage validated by the church)
So, what the hell. If he was going to have this epiphany that he is okay with us having IVF (which pisses me off - if you're going to be all hardcore about this shit I WANT it to apply to me too. Otherwise you're just another hypocrite who protest things but doesn't believe the rules apply to them.) couldn't he have done this like two years ago?

Anyways, long story short, now that we have the money saved up, my dad has offered to pay for IVF.

I told him to hang on to it and if IVF didn't work for us I would hit him up for adoption money. 

Edit: I should note, I love my parents and we generally have a good relationship, this was just such awesomely bizarre timing that my head exploded.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Tap-tap-tappy fingers

Just random things while I sit here and ignore work

1. I am terrible about being patient, especially in the short term. I waited years to do this, so you'd think these next few weeks would be a breeze. But I am like a crack addict in withdrawal. I want to start injecting things and it's making me itchy that I have to wait another week and a half. Like, PHYSICALLY itchy. I'm finger tapping and clock watching and not really interested doing much else.

2. The last time I took birth control pills was in college. I was not-exactly-dating this guy that I was acting with in a play (and who gave me a complex about my calves after he asked me if I could "do something" about them.) Anyways, we had a bit of a scare after a c0ndom broke, which got me into the doctors office for some bcps. I stayed on them for about a year. That is the extent of my birth control experience. Taking them now I am having some slight cramping, which is not bad, just surprising. If simple birth control makes me crampy I am already giving the side eye to the rest of the drugs. I have a feeling I am going to grumble a lot.

3. As I was leaving the house this morning I saw that I had gotten something in the mail from the doctor. I was thinking it was maybe my test results in writing, but it was a bill for $75. They had submitted my visit to the insurance company, who of course denied it. I kind of want to call the office and talk to the receptionist who insisted on copying the card even after I told her that NO REALLY, MY INSURANCE WONT COVER IT and tell her to take my card out of the file. My eyes just rolled so hard when I saw they did this that if it happens again they will probably get stuck that way. And then I would be infertile and blind.

Okay, now we get to the real part, at which I am terrible. Apologizing.

4. I am so sorry. I was a real asshole for going off and abandoning blogging like I did. Finding this community was one of the best things that ever happened to me and it was rude to drop off the face of the earth without so much as a how d'ye do.

It became overwhelming to focus on something that wasn't going to happen anytime soon (see #1 about patience) and I felt like I was falling more and more behind.
Behind on life. Behind on having anything to contribute. Behind on keeping up with other blogs and commenting.
But I should have wrapped up a little better. I am going through my reader and catching up with people's lives (dude, some of you had like two or three babies while I was gone!), but a lot of my old friends stopped blogging.

Some were an official end, announcing that they now had a child or had come to terms with a new direction in life without children and felt that they were ready to stop blogging. Some I have kept up with in real life or facebook.

Others left me hanging in the middle of IVF cycles or everyday chatter. It's like walking around a house and seeing that somebody was in the middle of dinner or reading a book or paying bills when *poof*...they disappear and never return.

I hope they are doing well, all my old friends. That they found peace and joy, that their lives turned out okay, even if they got pushed down a path they hadn't planned on walking.

Monday, June 4, 2012

AMH does not mean anti-malaria

I was sort of hoping (aka: ignoring any possibility to the contrary) that since A's infertility was such a big freaking diagnosis (no sperm) that I would magically be some sort of superstar egg maker. I mean, we started trying when I was pretty young, right? I have a totally clockwork cycle and all that jazz.
So while waiting to finally start treatments has sucked, I was kind of thinking - eh, at least I am still reasonably young so I should most likely have a bunch of kick ass eggs dancing around being all like "Hey! Come make me into an embryo with that ICSI micropipette you sexy lab beast!"

I started my bcp. Got my tentative schedule. I had my labwork done a week ago on CD 4 and they called with the most of  the results last Friday.

My estradiol was 41 (hoorah), my FSH was 6.8 (baller), my CF test was negative (doctor has concerns that A has a CF based genetic mutation, so whew!).

And then this morning they called (left a message about something-something-low malaria-something-garble-garble, so I had to call back and ask them why they were testing for malaria) and said the last test was...not great. And not about malaria but eggs.

My AMH is .81, which, according to The Internet, is either:
A) Low but not the worst ever or
B) My eggs are as rotten as Hamlet's Denmark

The nurse said that the doctor wanted to talk to me about adjusting my meds. I will do that later today.

So...anybody have any AMH stories?

Update: So, the doctor doesn't seem that concerned about my AMH, just thinks I'll be doing more drugs. I am not totally convinced, but feel slightly better than I did driving home this afternoon alternating between laughing hysterically and sobbing until I suddenly had to pull over and throw up my lunch. My stork apparently got a double tap to the head. Ridiculous.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Oh for REAL?!

So, this IVF cycle I am about to do was a long time coming. To recap: After A got the diagnosis of CBAVD we managed to get the money together for a MESA and putting his sperm on ice. Didn't have all the money for IVF, but we had a plan to save it. Then A lost his job and was basically unemployed for a year, so goodbye savings. We started to save up again slowly, but I felt that I was in a bad place mentally. Now we finally have money and I feel good so we get to play embryo roulette! The tentative date (assuming everything magically works the way we hope it does) we are looking at for transfer is July 14th. I just finished our annual convention at work, my next project is end of June and easy, after that I am good until August when I am going to be a bridesmaid. So, totally golden! Middle of July is perfect! Until about five minutes ago when A got a call. A's dad has kidney failure. A's sister got tested to be a donor. She is a match. Yay. They just scheduled the surgery for July 15. And A's sister's husband just left her to live with his boyfriend(!) and forgot that he is a father. So they need us to take four children for a week or two. On July 14. ............................... We can *totally* make this work, right?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Once more outta the ditch, dear friends, once more

I am assuming everybody who once stopped by to visit me is long gone, but in case you're out there listening... I had my first IVF appointment today. Assuming (yeah, yeah, ass, you, me, mostly me) that things go as planned I will be either pregnant or a drunk sometime about the end of July. I start my birth control pills Saturday. Four years later than planned, but here we go.