Yesterday I had a clear positive. So clear I didn't even have to lift it off the counter to look at it. So clear my husband saw it without his glasses.
And today, a BFFuckingN.
I don't have any clue what is going on/what went on.
My beta isn't until 18DPO--next Monday!
(My clinic's refusal to do betas before 17DPO--even when you're bleeding!--is part of why I'll be changing after this cycle. I seriously don't need to shove $30 of progesterone up my twat plus swallow another $2 in estrogen for any longer than I should have to! Plus, of course, all the emotional stuff.)
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
5dt5dt: Just Kidding
The lines are gone today. Tests are stark white. Either I was seeing the antibody strips, or that's all my embryos had to offer.
I'm sad but not surprised.
I'm sad but not surprised.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
4dp5dt: The End is Nigh
Ok, now, I believe religion should be treated with respect. I myself am not religious, but I was raised religious, many of my best friends are religious, I've lived in different cultures and been exposed to many religions (not just branches of Christianity--actually many different religions) in depth. So I don't mock.
But if you predict a day and a time for the rapture, you're really just setting yourself up.
But anyway. Suffice to say, should said rapture occur, I will very likely not be going. Which I'm kind of glad about.
I have a BF?.
Yesterday, my first day of testing, the conversation with my husband went like this:
HIM: So what does it say?
ME: Well...
HIM: It's too early, right?
ME: More or less.
HIM: Meaning?
ME: Well...when I hold it at a certain angle, I can kind of see a line.
HIM: What does that mean?
ME: ...it's too early.
Today, conversation went like this:
ME: Look! (Shoves still damp stick under his nose) I dipped a second one, just in case.
HIM: I don't see anything.
ME: No, LOOK!
HIM: ...that?
ME: Yes, that!
HIM: What umm, what is it?
ME: It's a very clear shadow. It's clearer than I remember my 9dpo test being last time.
HIM: Nine days past O?
ME: Where I am today. 4 days post-transfer. It's darker, I swear.
HIM: Go look!
Well, of course I kept the tests. I kept the tests, the embryo pictures (we have 2, one pre-freeze and one post-thaw), and our first ultrasound pictures. It's all I have of my almost-baby. I wish I'd had the courage and presence of mind to ask for ultrasound pictures the second time. No, there was no heart. There wasn't even a visible fetus. But the sac was so much bigger. It wasn't viable but it was still alive.
Anyway.
The tests from last time are very dry, and somewhat dusty. I looked at my 4dp5dt one and couldn't see the shadow I know I saw. But of course, the tests from this morning are still somewhat damp--the lines are pink, not a faded purple.
I can't really compare to last time, at least not yet.
There is something. I don't know what to do with it. I don't want to get overly excited. But I don't want to deny myself joy either.
Frankly, I simply cannot believe it. I can't believe one of those embryos is becoming a baby. It boggles my mind.
So I'm glad I'm not getting raptured today, because I really want to see how this all plays out.
But if you predict a day and a time for the rapture, you're really just setting yourself up.
But anyway. Suffice to say, should said rapture occur, I will very likely not be going. Which I'm kind of glad about.
I have a BF?.
Yesterday, my first day of testing, the conversation with my husband went like this:
HIM: So what does it say?
ME: Well...
HIM: It's too early, right?
ME: More or less.
HIM: Meaning?
ME: Well...when I hold it at a certain angle, I can kind of see a line.
HIM: What does that mean?
ME: ...it's too early.
Today, conversation went like this:
ME: Look! (Shoves still damp stick under his nose) I dipped a second one, just in case.
HIM: I don't see anything.
ME: No, LOOK!
HIM: ...that?
ME: Yes, that!
HIM: What umm, what is it?
ME: It's a very clear shadow. It's clearer than I remember my 9dpo test being last time.
HIM: Nine days past O?
ME: Where I am today. 4 days post-transfer. It's darker, I swear.
HIM: Go look!
Well, of course I kept the tests. I kept the tests, the embryo pictures (we have 2, one pre-freeze and one post-thaw), and our first ultrasound pictures. It's all I have of my almost-baby. I wish I'd had the courage and presence of mind to ask for ultrasound pictures the second time. No, there was no heart. There wasn't even a visible fetus. But the sac was so much bigger. It wasn't viable but it was still alive.
Anyway.
The tests from last time are very dry, and somewhat dusty. I looked at my 4dp5dt one and couldn't see the shadow I know I saw. But of course, the tests from this morning are still somewhat damp--the lines are pink, not a faded purple.
I can't really compare to last time, at least not yet.
There is something. I don't know what to do with it. I don't want to get overly excited. But I don't want to deny myself joy either.
Frankly, I simply cannot believe it. I can't believe one of those embryos is becoming a baby. It boggles my mind.
So I'm glad I'm not getting raptured today, because I really want to see how this all plays out.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
"Will you POAS?"
I was asked if I will POAS.
I assume she meant "Will you be testing tomorrow?" Because the answer to that is no, no I won't. I'm a sane and rational woman.
Then again, she may have meant, "Will you be testing ever single day from 8DPO until you get your period or see a heartbeat on the ultrasound?"
In which case, well yeah.
I'm a pee-er. I respect the rights of those who aren't. But I am. IF has taught me my version of the Serenity Prayer:
Grant me the patience to wait for the things I must wait for,
The courage to barge head-first into those for which I do not have to wait,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
I understand wanting to feel pregnant for as long as possible. But I don't feel pregnant after transfers. I don't feel pregnant until I get 2 lines.
And the days between my first two lines and my first low beta were the happiest days of my life, including my wedding (sorry JimDear). I don't know that I can recapture that same joy, having watched said joy turn into despair and loss, but I can try.
And if it's negative, which honestly I'm assuming it will be, I can accept that gradually, like I have in the past. And then I can start making plans to switch clinics and sell my body on the streets for a new fresh cycle.
I assume she meant "Will you be testing tomorrow?" Because the answer to that is no, no I won't. I'm a sane and rational woman.
Then again, she may have meant, "Will you be testing ever single day from 8DPO until you get your period or see a heartbeat on the ultrasound?"
In which case, well yeah.
I'm a pee-er. I respect the rights of those who aren't. But I am. IF has taught me my version of the Serenity Prayer:
Grant me the patience to wait for the things I must wait for,
The courage to barge head-first into those for which I do not have to wait,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
I understand wanting to feel pregnant for as long as possible. But I don't feel pregnant after transfers. I don't feel pregnant until I get 2 lines.
And the days between my first two lines and my first low beta were the happiest days of my life, including my wedding (sorry JimDear). I don't know that I can recapture that same joy, having watched said joy turn into despair and loss, but I can try.
And if it's negative, which honestly I'm assuming it will be, I can accept that gradually, like I have in the past. And then I can start making plans to switch clinics and sell my body on the streets for a new fresh cycle.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
ET: They're home
Both embryos survived the thaw, but one of them didn't really look like it was going to re-expand. We transferred both anyway, because why not. The transfer was very painful--they had a hard time getting the cath through "the cervical maze", so I spent a looooooooong time with a speculum. Not fun at all. I'm still very sore and have some cramping too, a touch of spotting but not enough to have me freaked.
My beta is at 18DPO (UGH!!! But they don't do betas on Sundays...). We'll see, I guess.
I don't have a lot of faith this time around, so...yeah.
My beta is at 18DPO (UGH!!! But they don't do betas on Sundays...). We'll see, I guess.
I don't have a lot of faith this time around, so...yeah.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Good to Go...where?
Well, after two full days of orientation (plus a surprise 4-hour "TEAS" test, which I'd never even heard of, but is, essentially, a grown-up SAT given on computers), I was finally able to talk to my actual clinical instructor.
I won't die, fall behind forever, fail beyond failure. I'll just sit in on another group, no prob. We're not in the hospital for our first two weeks. We're in this simulation lab in the basement. It's like a fake hospital ward, complete with fake patients. High-tech mannequins that breath, bleed, have bowel sounds, go into anaphylactic shock, etc.
Oh, and give birth.
That's right, one of them gives birth. To a plastic baby, yeah, but since she's plastic herself, I assume she's cool with that.
I hate that even fake people are more fertile and have easier--and more successful--pregnancies than me.
I haven't written much about my up-coming FET. I started progesterone on Thursday. I'm "3DPO" today. I just don't have a lot of faith in our little reject embryos. They're a BB and a BC. I just don't want to get all excited about it and have my heart crushed once again.
I won't die, fall behind forever, fail beyond failure. I'll just sit in on another group, no prob. We're not in the hospital for our first two weeks. We're in this simulation lab in the basement. It's like a fake hospital ward, complete with fake patients. High-tech mannequins that breath, bleed, have bowel sounds, go into anaphylactic shock, etc.
Oh, and give birth.
That's right, one of them gives birth. To a plastic baby, yeah, but since she's plastic herself, I assume she's cool with that.
I hate that even fake people are more fertile and have easier--and more successful--pregnancies than me.
I haven't written much about my up-coming FET. I started progesterone on Thursday. I'm "3DPO" today. I just don't have a lot of faith in our little reject embryos. They're a BB and a BC. I just don't want to get all excited about it and have my heart crushed once again.
Friday, May 13, 2011
A friend's loss
An old, close friend of my husband told us a month or so that he and his wife were expecting twins, due in September. She lost them both the day before yesterday.
When the friend emailed this news to my husband (they know we're dealing with IF and had a miscarriage, but live out of state, so I don't know them well), it made my husband cry.
For like half an hour.
It was heartbreaking. I honestly cannot remember if he cried at our ultrasound or in the 2-3 days that follow. I assume he did (he's not a huge crier, but I've seen him cry a few times before), but I was too wrapped up in my own grief to remember. But seeing this...it was so sad. He just kept saying "I know how he feels, I know exactly how he feels". (While it's not exactly true, since they do already have 3 kids, have had no IF at all, but were much further along and had of course told everyone...) I just didn't even know what to say.
I guess sometimes I forget how hard this can be on him. He spends a lot of time comforting me over bad outcomes, and yes, he gets upset, but...never have I seen him so sad for so long, and so unable to contain it, compartmentalize it, get angry instead of sad.
I sometimes think I'm selfish for putting us through all of this, because I know being pregnant means more to me than it does to him. (He's adopted himself and would happily adopt, even though I don't think he fully understands what a home study entails). Seeing him so distraught over a miscarriage, obviously he was dealing with his emotions over our miscarriage...it just was so sad.
I hate infertility.
When the friend emailed this news to my husband (they know we're dealing with IF and had a miscarriage, but live out of state, so I don't know them well), it made my husband cry.
For like half an hour.
It was heartbreaking. I honestly cannot remember if he cried at our ultrasound or in the 2-3 days that follow. I assume he did (he's not a huge crier, but I've seen him cry a few times before), but I was too wrapped up in my own grief to remember. But seeing this...it was so sad. He just kept saying "I know how he feels, I know exactly how he feels". (While it's not exactly true, since they do already have 3 kids, have had no IF at all, but were much further along and had of course told everyone...) I just didn't even know what to say.
I guess sometimes I forget how hard this can be on him. He spends a lot of time comforting me over bad outcomes, and yes, he gets upset, but...never have I seen him so sad for so long, and so unable to contain it, compartmentalize it, get angry instead of sad.
I sometimes think I'm selfish for putting us through all of this, because I know being pregnant means more to me than it does to him. (He's adopted himself and would happily adopt, even though I don't think he fully understands what a home study entails). Seeing him so distraught over a miscarriage, obviously he was dealing with his emotions over our miscarriage...it just was so sad.
I hate infertility.
Monday, May 9, 2011
My over-achieving uterus
Building up a thick lining has never been my problem, but I think my miscarriage my have kicked things into hyperdrive. My post-mc period was...copious. And today, on low-dose oral estrogen, my lining is already 13mm thick!
As a result, my FET has been moved up an entire week, transfer next Tuesday. I'm both super excited, because I hate waiting, but also a bit nervous, because...what kind of lining will I be dealing with here??
It's actually thrown a real wrench into things, because that should be my first day of nursing clinicals...and the stupid school hasn't sorted us into groups, given us times, given us instructors, etc. They'll do it on Friday.
I spent a lot of time on the phone today trying not to get angry while they repeatedly told me that "Missing clinicals is bad. You'll never catch up. If you miss more than one, you'll fail." Well, thank you. This isn't exactly going as planned...from Day One. (Of, you know, two years ago.)
I finally just went ahead and assumed (yeah yeah, ass, you, me) that an afternoon appointment would be better than a morning one, and if worse comes to worse, I'll just beg and plead myself into a different group, just for the day.
Because no, we don't actually have to be there from 7am to 5pm. They just can't tell me when I, in particular, need to be there. Until Friday.
I am zen. (A really angry and irritated sort of zen. The sort of zen that's allergic to the TB serum, but it's not an actual secondary immune response, just an allergy. Good times.)
As a result, my FET has been moved up an entire week, transfer next Tuesday. I'm both super excited, because I hate waiting, but also a bit nervous, because...what kind of lining will I be dealing with here??
It's actually thrown a real wrench into things, because that should be my first day of nursing clinicals...and the stupid school hasn't sorted us into groups, given us times, given us instructors, etc. They'll do it on Friday.
I spent a lot of time on the phone today trying not to get angry while they repeatedly told me that "Missing clinicals is bad. You'll never catch up. If you miss more than one, you'll fail." Well, thank you. This isn't exactly going as planned...from Day One. (Of, you know, two years ago.)
I finally just went ahead and assumed (yeah yeah, ass, you, me) that an afternoon appointment would be better than a morning one, and if worse comes to worse, I'll just beg and plead myself into a different group, just for the day.
Because no, we don't actually have to be there from 7am to 5pm. They just can't tell me when I, in particular, need to be there. Until Friday.
I am zen. (A really angry and irritated sort of zen. The sort of zen that's allergic to the TB serum, but it's not an actual secondary immune response, just an allergy. Good times.)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Change of Pace
I have been awarded a few awards, lately. Well, two awards, but by several people. I haven't posted about them because...well first, I don't know how to make pretty links back to other people's blogs, the kind where their name is the link, not some huge actually web address.
The second is that I feel unworthy. Not as in "my blog is a worthless entity and so am I" way, but rather, that there is just no way I should have been considered for either category.
Stylish? Me? This blog is taken entirely from the pre-done options. I did add a few buttons, because Mel (Stirrup Queen) had instructions on how to do it on her site. I haven't changed any options. I don't know how. I wish I had one of those "about me" tabs that many of you sport, or maybe some different colors here and there...but no. I'm entirely pre-fab here.
Versatile? Hahahahaha! Ok, sometimes I talk about my uterus in addition to my ovaries, but this is a one-note blog. Which is what I need it to be, and what I'm comfortable with (privacy concerns of other people involved, etc), but still.
Anyway, point being: I don't deserve the awards, but want to acknowledge the spirit behind them. Which mainly seems to be "list a bunch of non-IF stuff about yourself". So I will.
1) My pinky fingers are abnormally short. People don't usually notice this until I tell them, and then they can't look away. They barely pass the first knuckle of my 4th finger. Because they're so bitsy, I type oddly, and often hold things "fancy tea style"--pinky poking out. It doesn't wrap comfortably around my brush handle, or the beer can. Not my fault.
2) I can touch my tongue to my nose.
3) I love high heels. So much so that my tendons and muscles in my lower legs started forming permanent high-heel shapes. So after tons of deep and painful massage, daily stretching and exercising, I now have strict rules about heels. (I couldn't give them up entirely!) But I love them, and own more pairs than I should. Although most of them are many years old by this point.
4) I used to belly dance. I stopped briefly due to time constraints, and now I can't start again because I can no longer afford costumes or troupe memberships or even classes. This makes me sad. I hope to get back into it at some future point. I was really good, if I do say so myself.
5) I love kosher dill pickles.
6) I have very low blood pressure. It's not funny to ask if I'm "alive in there". I will never comment "jokingly" on anyone's vitals.
7) I talk to our cats as if they were humans. I want a dog.
8) My handwriting resembles that of a 12-year-old boy. It looks incredibly sloppy, but it's entirely legible. Also, after I spent hours and hours and HOURS fancily addressing our wedding invitations in my very best cursive, one of JimDear's friends asked what small child we got to address them. I wanted to un-invite him on the spot, that bastard.
9) I have one tattoo, on my foot/ankle. I love it.
10) If I could be anything, it would be a stage actress. I love theater and acting and an audience. But I also love eating and having a house and such, so that's out.
The second is that I feel unworthy. Not as in "my blog is a worthless entity and so am I" way, but rather, that there is just no way I should have been considered for either category.
Stylish? Me? This blog is taken entirely from the pre-done options. I did add a few buttons, because Mel (Stirrup Queen) had instructions on how to do it on her site. I haven't changed any options. I don't know how. I wish I had one of those "about me" tabs that many of you sport, or maybe some different colors here and there...but no. I'm entirely pre-fab here.
Versatile? Hahahahaha! Ok, sometimes I talk about my uterus in addition to my ovaries, but this is a one-note blog. Which is what I need it to be, and what I'm comfortable with (privacy concerns of other people involved, etc), but still.
Anyway, point being: I don't deserve the awards, but want to acknowledge the spirit behind them. Which mainly seems to be "list a bunch of non-IF stuff about yourself". So I will.
1) My pinky fingers are abnormally short. People don't usually notice this until I tell them, and then they can't look away. They barely pass the first knuckle of my 4th finger. Because they're so bitsy, I type oddly, and often hold things "fancy tea style"--pinky poking out. It doesn't wrap comfortably around my brush handle, or the beer can. Not my fault.
2) I can touch my tongue to my nose.
3) I love high heels. So much so that my tendons and muscles in my lower legs started forming permanent high-heel shapes. So after tons of deep and painful massage, daily stretching and exercising, I now have strict rules about heels. (I couldn't give them up entirely!) But I love them, and own more pairs than I should. Although most of them are many years old by this point.
4) I used to belly dance. I stopped briefly due to time constraints, and now I can't start again because I can no longer afford costumes or troupe memberships or even classes. This makes me sad. I hope to get back into it at some future point. I was really good, if I do say so myself.
5) I love kosher dill pickles.
6) I have very low blood pressure. It's not funny to ask if I'm "alive in there". I will never comment "jokingly" on anyone's vitals.
7) I talk to our cats as if they were humans. I want a dog.
8) My handwriting resembles that of a 12-year-old boy. It looks incredibly sloppy, but it's entirely legible. Also, after I spent hours and hours and HOURS fancily addressing our wedding invitations in my very best cursive, one of JimDear's friends asked what small child we got to address them. I wanted to un-invite him on the spot, that bastard.
9) I have one tattoo, on my foot/ankle. I love it.
10) If I could be anything, it would be a stage actress. I love theater and acting and an audience. But I also love eating and having a house and such, so that's out.
Monday, May 2, 2011
I Don't Usually Laugh At Other People's Sex Lives
...especially if those people are patients at my infertility clinic.
But have I mentioned that HIPAA would have a field day at my clinic? Like about the time my husband and I were in the "private office" with the door open, after our first IVF was cancelled, both fighting back tears, all the while listening to a nurse explain all about triggering with Lupron to some high-OHSS-risk girl, and how my husband slammed the door shut (and we kinda got in trouble)? Or how most important information is exchanged at the "nurses station", which is the whole middle of the office area?
I mean, hell, we all suck at having babies, but a little privacy might go a long way.
Which is why I got to hear the absolute most hilarious exchange between my favorite nurse (Nurse H!) and a very new-to-IF (I assume) couple?
SCENE: Nursing station. It's like a big hollow rectangle with computers lining it, and nurses at each computer. Often, patients are talking to the nurses. One such patient, ME, is having a rather dull conversation about her upcoming FET cycle with NURSE C, who isn't actually her nurse at all, but hey, they know her by now, while really just waiting for the RE to sign a form saying I can walk and talk and see and hear, and thus am fit to be a student nurse. (Really, it's the dumbest health report ever, aside from the vaccine parts.) YOUNG COUPLE walks up, approaching the ever-awesome NURSE H.
GUY: (sheepishly clutching brown bag) So where's the...uh...place to go?
NURSE H: Down the hall, on the right.
GUY: (wanders off)
NURSE H: (types at her computer for a minute)
GIRL: Umm...how long is it going to take?
NURSE H: (totally straight-faced, very bland voice) However long it takes him to produce.
Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!
21-ish-year-old girl hastily clarified that she meant to get pregnant (which, BWAHAHAHAHA, oh god, at least 2 years, my dear).
Hand to god, this happened.
Other things that happened: my hormones are good, my lining is only 4mm (which is amazing, since this period has rivaled my miscarriage both in terms of cramps (ok, not quite) and...quantity. I assume I'm on the tail end, although I needed the special training-pad on the table and bled all over the probe), I have a ton of antral follicles, and a small (for me--1.5cm) cyst on my left ovary, which we'll keep an eye on.
Cycle on, baby.
But have I mentioned that HIPAA would have a field day at my clinic? Like about the time my husband and I were in the "private office" with the door open, after our first IVF was cancelled, both fighting back tears, all the while listening to a nurse explain all about triggering with Lupron to some high-OHSS-risk girl, and how my husband slammed the door shut (and we kinda got in trouble)? Or how most important information is exchanged at the "nurses station", which is the whole middle of the office area?
I mean, hell, we all suck at having babies, but a little privacy might go a long way.
Which is why I got to hear the absolute most hilarious exchange between my favorite nurse (Nurse H!) and a very new-to-IF (I assume) couple?
SCENE: Nursing station. It's like a big hollow rectangle with computers lining it, and nurses at each computer. Often, patients are talking to the nurses. One such patient, ME, is having a rather dull conversation about her upcoming FET cycle with NURSE C, who isn't actually her nurse at all, but hey, they know her by now, while really just waiting for the RE to sign a form saying I can walk and talk and see and hear, and thus am fit to be a student nurse. (Really, it's the dumbest health report ever, aside from the vaccine parts.) YOUNG COUPLE walks up, approaching the ever-awesome NURSE H.
GUY: (sheepishly clutching brown bag) So where's the...uh...place to go?
NURSE H: Down the hall, on the right.
GUY: (wanders off)
NURSE H: (types at her computer for a minute)
GIRL: Umm...how long is it going to take?
NURSE H: (totally straight-faced, very bland voice) However long it takes him to produce.
Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!
21-ish-year-old girl hastily clarified that she meant to get pregnant (which, BWAHAHAHAHA, oh god, at least 2 years, my dear).
Hand to god, this happened.
Other things that happened: my hormones are good, my lining is only 4mm (which is amazing, since this period has rivaled my miscarriage both in terms of cramps (ok, not quite) and...quantity. I assume I'm on the tail end, although I needed the special training-pad on the table and bled all over the probe), I have a ton of antral follicles, and a small (for me--1.5cm) cyst on my left ovary, which we'll keep an eye on.
Cycle on, baby.
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