It's Hump Day....

to quote a morning radio DJ from my Rochester days, "and later we will."

It's been such a busy week already, I'm looking forward to the weekend. I had my follicle check this morning and things are looking really good. It's hard to see how many follicles are growing, they are all stacking on top of each other at this point, but the lead follicle is 18mm and my lining is great (almost 12mm, which is really the max that it gets). The nurse is guessing Monday for retrieval, but we'll know on Friday when I go back.

Bubbles is hopefully coming up from Baltimore for the transfer. I saw her the day after the transfer the time I got pregnant and she talked to my belly. Maybe if she talks to the embryos pre-utero, they'll stick around a little more.

Triple Play

I've resigned myself, I'm about 98.9% sure that I'm done with J. And I feel good about that. I'm waiting, though not the losing sleep kind of waiting, for him to be in touch. So I can say "oh, are you calling with a day and place for us to meet. Because if you're not, we've got nothing to talk about."

And I've realized that I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself. Mad for allowing him to make me feel so foolish over him. Mad for allowing me to not see what he was trying to tell me with his lack of action. But I get it now. If he wanted it to happen, if he really wanted to see me, I've made it more than easy for him to make it happen.

I texted with E yesterday and felt happy to have heard from him. Before yesterday, our last exchange was about two weeks ago. He had been talking on air about the advice he gave one of his producers about what to expect from marriage. He likened it to eating healthy for the rest of his life -- he'd feel better, he'd look better, he'd sleep better, but he could never have another cupcake again.

I texted him and asked if I was supposed to be the cupcake. He answered back, almost immediately, that yes I was and to get my ass to Connecticut so he could lick every inch of me. I giggled but didn't respond back. I left it at that. Bubbles has taught me well about how to keep the power in the texting and calling relationship. I kept the power, and there he was four beeping me yesterday morning.

And then all of that power, all of that "I am in control of my life and my feelings" went out the window this morning. One little phone call. A 315 (Syracuse) area code on my phone. "This is Ellie."

"Hey now." Chris. And I melted. I'd been thinking about him lately. (His birthday is at the end of the week.) But I didn't realize the effect he still has on me. He makes me happy. He's familiar. And safe. And yes, unavailable. But he cares about me. And he knows me. I don't have to be on my "best" behavior around him.

Amazing, how after all this time, that guy in the Irish bar from January 2003....it still comes back to him.

Weekend Update

It was a fun weekend, and I wish I didn't have such a busy, Syracuse-filled week ahead, but alas I do. Doctor appointments Monday and Wednesday morning, yoga Tuesday night, and thankfully not a lot of meetings.

My follicle check went well on Friday -- there are anywhere between 5 and 8 follicles, with the lead one at 13mm. Slow and steady wins the race. My best guess is that retrieval will be next Monday or Tuesday, with transfer on Friday the 7th. Which also means that I will be getting my test results very close to the exact date of my first IUI two years ago (August 23). Win or lose, it will all come full circle. And win or lose, I'll be heading south at the end of August.

I had another fertility massage yesterday, this time with yet another person. She wasn't trained in the Mayan abdominal techniques that I had been getting, but she did some work on my stomach and pressure points. It was more relaxing than the other two, so even if it wasn't entirely focused on my reproductive organs, it was a stress-reliever. I think I'll be able to fit one more in before retrieval.

I stayed in Syracuse last night and went to the Chiefs (triple-A affiliate of the Nationals) game with my niece, her husband and their two boys. And then this morning, as I was driving home, I heard the familiar four beeps of my cell phone. E. :)

Some dirty texting back and forth as I was driving (oops) and he wants to pick a date soon for us. I'm guessing I won't be able to fit him in before the retrieval, so once again he will be my consolation prize to look forward to.

It's Almost Friday

The week got better, although there was another incident with Casey on Tuesday night, but she was good last night.

I had a follicle check yesterday and I had six follicles, possibly a seventh. The lead follicle is 12mm. I ordered the baby batter yesterday (it will arrive Monday) and I go back for another ultrasound tomorrow.

I'm guessing retrieval next Friday at the earliest. Stay tuned.

Monday Sucked

The day started out fine, if not a little early. I was up at 5:15am, jumped in the shower and got dressed, fed my neighbors cats (a more-complex-then-usual task since her cats eat different things and I have to lock one in the bathroom to eat and then wait), and was on the road by 6:15 for Syracuse.

My follicle check went well. I had my favorite NP and I have at least three follicles on the left, and five on the right. Whoo-hoo. Keep growing, little follicles. I went to Skaneateles, a beautiful little resort village on one of the Finger Lakes to spend the day at my friend Jenn's house, since I would be going back to the FG's office later in the day.

We played with the kids in the backyard, fed them lunch, and then left them with her husband while we walked around the village and got lunch. Then back to her house to sit by the pool.

About 5pm, I headed back to Syracuse for my first support group meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect, and there were lots of people there that it was their first time, too. Overall, there were about 25 people there (including three husbands). Everyone went around the room and told their story.

I would have expected that to be cathartic. And I'm not sure why the meeting, overall, wasn't. All the sad stories, all the failures should have made me feel like I'm not in it alone, but I think they gave me a hopeless feeling.

trying for three years....trying for five years...miscarriage with twins at 10 weeks...premenopausal at 35...miscarriage at 7 weeks....ready to give up...

Maybe I'm just tired. Like two years worth of tired. I'm tired of talking and rehashing what more we can all do.

Acupuncture. Yoga. Massage. Stress relievers. Meditation. Support groups. Support forums. Therapy. I'm doing all of that. And then we hear -- in the support group and in yoga -- Don't watch TV or read the news -- nothing but negative energy. Read positive books.

And then there's the information that contradicts each other. Don't eat ice cream -- you need to keep your uterus warm. Eat full fat dairy -- it's good for conception.

I've said it before, but I feel like I want to scream it from a mountain top -- it shouldn't be this hard. If it's this hard to reproduce, how did man get this far?

FG said something at the meeting that I took to heart, and I'm sure he meant it in a positive way, because he is nothing if not positive, but he said "none of us is promised anything in life."

And he's right. But is it too much to expect that if I don't get the husband, I can have the baby?

I drove home with a pounding headache, knowing I had to stop at Kohl's to buy a new hair straightener (I noticed in the morning that mine was most likely a fire hazard with frayed cord showing), still feed the neighbor's cats and do my shots and medicine.

If Casey pooped on the floor, I think I might lose it. (My 13-year-old cat has irritable bowel syndrome and sometimes doesn't make it to the litter box or starts there, it hurts and she jumps out. Fortunately, her messes are contained to one room 99% of the time, and she's only ruined the rug in her room.)

I went to Kohl's, the headache is now an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10. Go home, take my shot out of the fridge to warm up, go over to Lynne's to feed the cats. Get the mail while the one cat is eating locked up, go back in and let her out. Go home, do my shot, take my meds. Grab something little to eat, check my email and calendar for today. At this point, it's 9pm and my headache is closing in on a 9. Someone is pressing their thumbs into both of my eyes and has a vice around my head.

I go upstairs and see a pile of poo on the floor, a smaller dropping about three feet away, and a little in my room. I start sobbing, not doing any wonders for my headache. Bending over to clean up the floor makes my head explode. I cry harder. I look at the rug shampooer that I leave in Casey's room for nights like this, and lose it. I sit on a stool and sob into my knees.

I clean up the best I can, pour Nature's Miracle on all the spots and cover them with hand towels so I know where they are. Contacts out, Yankees t-shirt on, 800 mg of Ibuprofin, and the lights off. I hold my head, trying to relieve the pressure and fall asleep.

I want a boy to make the decision of what to do with Casey. I want a boy to rub my head and tell me it's okay. To tell me that we're in this together and one way or another, there will be a crib in that other room (once we tear up the poopy carpet). That's all I want as I try not to cry, lest my head actually explode.

It's what I want. And then I remember the FG's words....none of us is promised anything.

It's Time

I went to the doctor this morning and I'm ready. I start shooting up tonight -- 450 units of Gonal-F and go back on Monday. No Lupron this time, I will start on the Ganirelix towards the middle of next week.

I have follicle checks on Monday, Wednesday and Friday next week. So the continuous driving to Syracuse and back starts up again. I'm feeling positive and hopeful.

College Revisited

During my senior year of college, I had two best girl friends, but mostly aligned myself with my guy friends. I learned early on that three girls are trouble. There is always drama, there is always a power struggle, and there is never equal love between the three. Somehow, someway, some variation of two are closer than any other. It's just the way it works.

When I graduated from college and one of these girls got married, I let the inevitable happen and drifted apart from the friendship. It was easier. I never missed the drama, never regretted not keeping in touch with them.

Fifteen years later, Facebook has brought them back into my life, for better or worse. I've kept them at arm's length, exchanging pleasantries, catching up on the last 15 years, and then really not much beyond that. We have our own lives, own priorities, and have, I'm assuming, replaced each other with new friends.

One of the ways I use Facebook with my immediate circle of friends is to keep them updated on doctor appointments and there I am in my current schedule. I keep my status updates pretty vague -- those in the know get it, those who don't know, have no clue.

Recently one of these girls from college sent me an email asking if everything was okay (she'd probably noticed some posts on my FB page that said "sending good thoughts" or something like that), that she was concerned, etc. The email sounded sincere. And if....no, when I get pregnant next month, it will only be a matter of time before I announce it. So I thought about it for a day about how I should answer her.

And finally I just decided to tell her. I told her I'd been trying to get pregnant for the past two-plus years, that all the trips to Syracuse were doctor appointments, this was my last attempt, etc. Not overly dramatic, not a lot of emotional sharing, but still clear that these two years have not been the easiest. And I thanked her for her concern.

And then? Nothing from her. Not a single word. I've seen that she's been on Facebook. Clearly she's read it. And while I had hoped that we've all matured in the past 15 years, the insecure part of me wonders if she is now taking this information and talking it over with the other friend from college.

I told Hope about it today. She told me I have too much faith in people, think too highly their motives and their sincerity, that I should have gone with my gut and my last opinion of her. Should have told her thanks for your concern, everything's okay -- and left it at that.

I should have.

The First of the Last

After three weeks on the pill, I was finally able to go back to the doctor this morning. My first appointment of the last round of IVF.

My left uterus -- usually hiding behind my colon and bladder -- was actually behind my uterus. So maybe these massage techniques have been doing something positive. My lining was about 7 or 8 mm thick -- too thick to start the meds tonight. If I started tonight, they're concerned that I won't shed it all when I get my period. So I will call in the next day or two and should be shooting up by the end of the week.

The good news -- Ally found 10 or 11 resting follicles. I have no idea how many I've had in the past, no one has ever told me. But she seemed genuinely excited about it. "We've got to make this month work." And it was nice to hear from her that she's in it with me. Even when she walked in the room, she said she had been thinking of me that morning, knowing that my three weeks were up and I would be in.

After my appointment, I went next door and had my second fertility massage, this time from someone I went to high school with. At first that was a little strange, but she was ultra-professional and was even better than the man I had last week. I liked her technique much better, even though there was some pain involved.

Pain is strong. Discomfort is more like it. I'm willing to do whatever it takes. As I was laying there, I just kept thinking, "suck it up. child birth is going to hurt more."

I hope so.

Fertility Massage

One of the best parts of a massage is that you're laying on your stomach, hiding the less-than-perfect parts of yourself, exposing your back and getting it rubbed. Fertility massage? Not so much.

I started on my back and he rubbed my stomach. Nothing relaxing about it. He was really digging in, increasing blood flow and circulation to my uterus, and all I could think about was what my stomach looked like after two years of my body getting ready to be pregnant.

And then I realized I was being stupid. At this point, modesty needs to go out the window. And I just need to suck it up and do whatever it takes. He pulled down from my belly button to just above my pubic bone and then over to each pelvic bone. And then pushed up from the belly button in three directions. He rubbed my stomach in a circle, really pushing into it and moving things around. He covered it with a heating pad and then used pressure points (probably the same places I have needles when I get acupuncture) on my neck, shoulders and head.

He did deep pressure circulation stuff on my back too. Really deep. Almost to the point where it hurt. And then I think as just a way to throw me a bone, he rubbed the calves and feet for a few minutes.

Not the usual massage, but very interesting. I have to do the same type of massage on my stomach every night and use a heating pad. And I go back on Monday for another massage after my doctor's appointment. He suggested I continue to be treated with a massage each week up until transfer.

I Applaud Red Sox Nation

Yea, even me.

My Mood is Better

I'm still on the pill for one more week, but I'm feeling less weepy than even two days ago. I made it through the weekend with little drama.

My niece had her baby yesterday -- a little girl. I'm not sure exactly how to feel about this. I know how I'm supposed to feel, I know how I expected to feel. Mostly I'm indifferent and feel nothing.

I got an email from my sister (her mother) first and then from my niece herself with pictures. In neither email was my brother copied (remember the family drama from last summer). So much for my sister saying that it was all done, move on, no hard feelings, etc.

I think that pissed me off more than feeling sorry for myself that she had a baby. Thanksgiving should be interesting when the Virginia relatives (those who were not invited to the wedding) come home.

And so even with the family drama, and the baby being born, I'm feeling okay. I've got a fertility massage scheduled before yoga on Tuesday. What's a fertility massage? My cynical side says one more way for the FG to make money.

Officially, the website says: A rejuvenating and nurturing treatment utilizing a variety of techniques including Swedish, deep tissue, trigger point therapy, myofascial release, reflexology and cranial sacral. Stimulate your circulation, decrease muscle tension, and renew your well-being. This massage is designed for pre fertility treatment.

I have one scheduled for the following week, as well. No one can tell me that I'm not doing all I can to try to get pregnant.

A "When Harry Met Sally" Lesson

Marie: I don't think he's every going to leave her.
Sally: I know he's never going to leave her.
Marie: You're right, you're right. I know you're right.

The Pill is the Culprit

I'm so glad that I'm neurotic (or anal?) to write everything down. I looked back at my posts the last time I was on the pill. Of course, when I first reread them, it was a good thing because I got pregnant on the cycle following being on the pill.

What I didn't notice was my mood while I was on the pill. I was miserable. And not sad for a little while, but several days on end, miserable. About a week into being on the pill, I was an emotional wreck. Every little thing bothered me.

Fast forward to this month. About a week into being on the pill, the same thing. Last time I was only on for two weeks, this time for three. Should make for fun times.