I went up to Syracuse yesterday for my retrieval -- and the fertility guru was able to get seven eggs! It was really exciting, though I knew some of then were probably not mature. But seven! Again!
I went to have my post-retrieval acupuncture treatment in Syracuse and it was so relaxing. Probably didn't hurt that I had been unconscious a mere 30 minutes earlier. I spent the day in Syracuse with my niece and then headed back home last night.
Started my next round of meds -- no shots for this cycle, thankfully. Three days of antibiotics, twice a day, estrodial twice a day until after my blood test, back on the baby aspirin in the morning, and 10 herbal pills.
The embryologist called me this morning. She said they injected five of the seven eggs and three took. So I have three embryos set for the transfer later this week. I was a little disappointed at first, that I won't have any in the freezer, but then I reminded myself that I won't need them. This is the month of positive thinking. I'll get pregnant this time around -- maybe even with twins, god help me.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Mr. Angelos' Night Before Christmas
For my regular readers, you know that I used to work in Baltimore. One of my former interns posted this on her Facebook page today, and I couldn't resist sharing, even though I know most of you aren't sports fan. And even though I'm a Yankees fan, because I worked so closely with the team and got to know so many of the players, I consider the Orioles my second-favorite team, and root for them every chance I get (as long as they're not playing the Yankees).
'Tis the season, anyway. Enjoy!
PS....Mr. Angelos is the much-maligned owner of the Orioles, who makes really poor decisions and has basically run the franchise into the ground.
Twas the week before Christmas and all through the state
Not an O’s fan was sleeping, they all stayed up late
Their houses had lights and a tree and a crèche
But all they kept doing was hitting “refresh”.
The Yanks got Sabathia, now what could be fairer
Than signing their own home town boy Mark Teixeira
And I, in the warehouse, in my O’s jacket and cap
Was looking for Severna Park on a map
When out in the Yard, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
But I couldn’t see well over the big piles of cash
The moon on the breast of the manicured grass
Gave off ghostly images of stars from the past
There’s Gus Triandos, and Brooksie, and Earl
Frank Robinson, Dempsey, Jim Palmer and Cal
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a stocky ballplayer in St.Michael’s Boy’s gear.
From his pigeon-toed walk, and his face full of youth
I knew in a moment that it was Babe Ruth!
His eyes how they twinkled, (though they were a bit bleary)
His belly was big and his outlook quite cheery.
He had dirt on his jersey, his face held a grin
He looked like he knew just how great he had been
He was looking right at me as he reached into his sack
And pulled out a signed and sealed baseball contract
His said nothing at all, but his eyes, they conveyed
It was time to unmake the mistakes I have made
To rebuild the proud franchise that had so blessed the town
To restore the fine legacy that he’d handed down
That had been such a joy on the shores of the Bay
That had lifted all hearts every opening day
I looked at the contract and saw Teixeira’s name
And others behind it, all signed just the same
Extensions for Roberts and also for Nick
All neatly completed, now that’s quite a trick!
Then, pointing towards center, the Babe started to rise
And flew over the scoreboard and up to the skies
But he turned ‘ere he vanished, and exclaimed as he rose:
Merry Christmas to all… And How Bout Dem O’s!
Decisions Made
I was bummed this morning. I went for my follicle check and they didn't seem to grow that much in the last two days. So I waited and waited for the doctor to call, all the while thinking all sorts of negative things and jumping to medical conclusions that I have no business making.
And then Linda (from the fertility guru's office) called to say that I was on track for retrieval on Saturday. I'll give myself injections of the Lupron and Gonal-F tonight, take my last baby aspirin (until after the transfer) tomorrow, do injections of Ovidril tomorrow at exactly 9:30pm, and then nothing to eat or drink after midnight on Friday. The retrieval will be Saturday at 9am, and unfortunately I don't have anyone to take me. But it'll work out. I'll do acupuncture at the FG's office and should be fully coherent by the time that is over.
My transfer will be on Christmas Eve. And I'll do acupuncture, again at the FG's office since my person will be away for the holiday, on Tuesday morning and then Wednesday after the transfer. And then on Christmas day, I'll drive to Richmond.
Not the best the way to spend Christmas, but certainly not the worst. I should be to my brother's house by 2 or 3pm. And I've told a few people in my family that I won't be spending Christmas with them, the ones who could react either very positively or negatively, and they reacted in the way I would want them to.
So no anxiety over Christmas anymore. Time to just be positive and think good thoughts and make this baby.
And as Bubbles said when she heard the transfer date, "a Christmas baby...how wonderfully cheesy!"
And then Linda (from the fertility guru's office) called to say that I was on track for retrieval on Saturday. I'll give myself injections of the Lupron and Gonal-F tonight, take my last baby aspirin (until after the transfer) tomorrow, do injections of Ovidril tomorrow at exactly 9:30pm, and then nothing to eat or drink after midnight on Friday. The retrieval will be Saturday at 9am, and unfortunately I don't have anyone to take me. But it'll work out. I'll do acupuncture at the FG's office and should be fully coherent by the time that is over.
My transfer will be on Christmas Eve. And I'll do acupuncture, again at the FG's office since my person will be away for the holiday, on Tuesday morning and then Wednesday after the transfer. And then on Christmas day, I'll drive to Richmond.
Not the best the way to spend Christmas, but certainly not the worst. I should be to my brother's house by 2 or 3pm. And I've told a few people in my family that I won't be spending Christmas with them, the ones who could react either very positively or negatively, and they reacted in the way I would want them to.
So no anxiety over Christmas anymore. Time to just be positive and think good thoughts and make this baby.
And as Bubbles said when she heard the transfer date, "a Christmas baby...how wonderfully cheesy!"
Monday, December 15, 2008
Growing, growing, growing
I went in for my follicle check this morning. There are five now, four clustered in the left ovary, one in the right. They are 17, 16.5, 11.5, and two under 8mm.
So while I was hopeful that they would tell me today when my retrieval is, they called to say that I need to go in one more time, on Wednesday, for a possible retrieval on Friday.
Tonight, I picked up the hormones that I will have to inject in myself pre-retrieval. So I'm ready. Whenever they tell me, I'm ready.
I'm feeling good. Clownface, whom I've known since the 4th grade, made a lot of sense in her comment to me about Christmas. And she's right, it's more about me right now, not my family. What is better for me in this period of time when I'm supposed to keep my stress level low? Christmas filled with anxiety? Or a little alone time in the car?
And so while I haven't made a final decision -- I will wait to know when my transfer day is -- I pretty much know which way I am leaning.
So while I was hopeful that they would tell me today when my retrieval is, they called to say that I need to go in one more time, on Wednesday, for a possible retrieval on Friday.
Tonight, I picked up the hormones that I will have to inject in myself pre-retrieval. So I'm ready. Whenever they tell me, I'm ready.
I'm feeling good. Clownface, whom I've known since the 4th grade, made a lot of sense in her comment to me about Christmas. And she's right, it's more about me right now, not my family. What is better for me in this period of time when I'm supposed to keep my stress level low? Christmas filled with anxiety? Or a little alone time in the car?
And so while I haven't made a final decision -- I will wait to know when my transfer day is -- I pretty much know which way I am leaning.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Follicle Update
I went for my third follicle check yesterday. One I got past the drama of the 10 inches of snow we got over night and into the morning, it was all good. I have three egg follicles, 9, 11 and 12mm. Ready for retrieval is 20mm. So I'm halfway there. They grow between 1 to 3mm per day. I go back on Monday, and I'm guessing that will be the last follicle check and then I'll begin preparing for the retrieval on maybe Friday or Saturday. There could be more than three follicles, some could be on top on another. Or there could be more than one egg per follicle. But three is good.
I'm feeling confident. I'm going into this one with a more positive attitude. From the moment he puts the embryos in (and I'm going to let him go as high as four, if there are that many), I'm going to be pregnant. I'm going to believe that I'm pregnant. No cautious optimism. I'll deal with the pain, if I have to, later.
I'm feeling confident. I'm going into this one with a more positive attitude. From the moment he puts the embryos in (and I'm going to let him go as high as four, if there are that many), I'm going to be pregnant. I'm going to believe that I'm pregnant. No cautious optimism. I'll deal with the pain, if I have to, later.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
To Christmas or Not to Christmas
Still don't know what I'm doing for Christmas. And my OCD is starting to kick in. I like plans. I know knowing what I'm doing. And not knowing what I'm doing, if I'm driving north or south, if I'm spending Christmas with high anxiety or in my pj's all day.
I'm not sure how to make the decision. If the embryo transfer is on the 23rd or earlier, then it's a no-brainer that I'll go to Richmond. But if the transfer is on Christmas Eve, how do I really explain to my family that I'd rather spend Christmas day in a car, alone, for eight hours, than spend the holiday with them?
It's perplexing, that's for sure. I'm trying not to stress over it. But it's hard.
Any suggestions?
I'm not sure how to make the decision. If the embryo transfer is on the 23rd or earlier, then it's a no-brainer that I'll go to Richmond. But if the transfer is on Christmas Eve, how do I really explain to my family that I'd rather spend Christmas day in a car, alone, for eight hours, than spend the holiday with them?
It's perplexing, that's for sure. I'm trying not to stress over it. But it's hard.
Any suggestions?
Monday, December 08, 2008
Colts, Giants.....not what you think
At one point in my career, I could call every play in the final two minutes and 15 seconds of this game. I'm so excited to watch this on Saturday.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
It Was Transparent, but I Was Thankful
I talked to one of my sisters on Tuesday night, and she said something that got me riled up. I don't remember, but suddenly I was venting about how no one in the family (save her, my mother, my sister-in-law in Virginia, and my niece) seemed to care about what I was going through. That no one ever called, no one emailed. And that our niece (the one who announced her pregnancy last week) was an insensitive bitch.
She was good. She let me rant, she tried to make some excuses for them but not too many, and then said she didn't know I felt that way. How could I not? You all know how I feel, I've spelled it out before how much they all hurt me by not inquiring.
And then she asked about why I thought Erica was insensitive. Really? Seriously? "I have the best fertility specialist in the region putting living, viable embryos into my uterus and I can't get pregnant. I don't want to hear that she got pregnant without even trying."
Oh, was the response. Yea, oh.
So yesterday my phone rang. A 315 area code but no name. Could have been someone's cell, I guess, so I answered. (315 is Syracuse, where most of my family lives.) It was my oldest sister. "Haven't talked to you in a while. Mom told me you were gearing up for your next procedure, so I thought I'd check in."
We talked for about 30 minutes. She gave me her updates. I told her what I was doing. I even congratulated her on being a grandma-to-be. I would have liked the conversation to end there, but she talked about how Erica was feeling, and the plans they were making for a bigger place, and that they would have such pretty babies because they were both so pretty. And of course, I started crying.
And she knew it. "Why are you crying?" And then she answered her own questions, excusing it on the hormones. And I let her think that was the case. I did ask for this, after all. I did want my siblings to be a little thoughtful with me, and reach out to me. So I guess this is what I get with it.
I know no one knows what the right thing to say is. I know it's a hard thing. And unless you've been living this with me for the past 18 months, you have no idea just exactly what I've been through.
To synopsize it into 6 failed IUI attempts and two failed IVF's, with one chemical pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage, does not give justice to what it has actually been. And so I'll give some slack to the ones who are just jumping on board now, and remember that this is what I wanted.
But there's something about the conversation that just didn't feel genuine. Like she was calling because she heard I was uattempted to comfort me when I was crying was a little too cavalier for my liking, she was over-looking anything that was just said that could have been the cause of the tears, over-looking that her daughter being pregnant could be very upsetting to me.
And maybe there is still awkwardness over the wedding this summer. Until amends are made, there will always be something that can't be said between us. (And at least in my end, something that will always be on the top of my tongue to say.) And maybe that was there. Maybe that was what I was sensing.
Or maybe it's time for me to go back to see my shrink. I've run into her at Wegmans and Kohl's recently. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me that I've done the best job I can handling this complex roller coaster of emotions, but I need to call in the professional for a little advice. I'll see how this week goes.
I go in tomorrow for a follicle check and blood work. I've been giving myself 450 units of Gonal-F since Thursday night. I'll know tomorrow if it's been working the way we hoped.
She was good. She let me rant, she tried to make some excuses for them but not too many, and then said she didn't know I felt that way. How could I not? You all know how I feel, I've spelled it out before how much they all hurt me by not inquiring.
And then she asked about why I thought Erica was insensitive. Really? Seriously? "I have the best fertility specialist in the region putting living, viable embryos into my uterus and I can't get pregnant. I don't want to hear that she got pregnant without even trying."
Oh, was the response. Yea, oh.
So yesterday my phone rang. A 315 area code but no name. Could have been someone's cell, I guess, so I answered. (315 is Syracuse, where most of my family lives.) It was my oldest sister. "Haven't talked to you in a while. Mom told me you were gearing up for your next procedure, so I thought I'd check in."
We talked for about 30 minutes. She gave me her updates. I told her what I was doing. I even congratulated her on being a grandma-to-be. I would have liked the conversation to end there, but she talked about how Erica was feeling, and the plans they were making for a bigger place, and that they would have such pretty babies because they were both so pretty. And of course, I started crying.
And she knew it. "Why are you crying?" And then she answered her own questions, excusing it on the hormones. And I let her think that was the case. I did ask for this, after all. I did want my siblings to be a little thoughtful with me, and reach out to me. So I guess this is what I get with it.
I know no one knows what the right thing to say is. I know it's a hard thing. And unless you've been living this with me for the past 18 months, you have no idea just exactly what I've been through.
To synopsize it into 6 failed IUI attempts and two failed IVF's, with one chemical pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage, does not give justice to what it has actually been. And so I'll give some slack to the ones who are just jumping on board now, and remember that this is what I wanted.
But there's something about the conversation that just didn't feel genuine. Like she was calling because she heard I was uattempted to comfort me when I was crying was a little too cavalier for my liking, she was over-looking anything that was just said that could have been the cause of the tears, over-looking that her daughter being pregnant could be very upsetting to me.
And maybe there is still awkwardness over the wedding this summer. Until amends are made, there will always be something that can't be said between us. (And at least in my end, something that will always be on the top of my tongue to say.) And maybe that was there. Maybe that was what I was sensing.
Or maybe it's time for me to go back to see my shrink. I've run into her at Wegmans and Kohl's recently. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me that I've done the best job I can handling this complex roller coaster of emotions, but I need to call in the professional for a little advice. I'll see how this week goes.
I go in tomorrow for a follicle check and blood work. I've been giving myself 450 units of Gonal-F since Thursday night. I'll know tomorrow if it's been working the way we hoped.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
What Can Brown Do For You?
I stopped taking the pill on Friday, started the Lupron shots (in my stomach) on Saturday, and actually started my period yesterday, a whole week early, which makes me feel less stressed about fitting in a retrieval and transfer this month.
I went in for a baseline ultrasound this morning -- they said everything looked like it's supposed to -- and so on Thursday I'll start the Gonal-F shots. That will basically turn my ovaries into Jiffy Pop -- making lots of egg follicles. Hopefully as many as last time (seven eggs, five embryos). And then next week I'll go in for ultrasounds on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Hopefully the following week will be the retrieval -- early enough that I can still make it to Richmond for Christmas, maybe even Christmas Eve, too.
My emotions are in better shape than they have been in the past few weeks, and my acupuncturist reminded me that I was on the pill for two weeks. Straight estrogen was bound to make my emotions a little crazy. Hopefully that's over and I can try to stay positive from here on out.
Last week when we were in Richmond, my father made a fairly bland, but definitely off-color remark. I have mentioned to my mom that it bothered me when remarks like that were made, because what if I can't get pregnant and I end up adopting. The baby will not be white. And I don't care.
The remark was made, and I got up in the middle of dinner and walked away. Went upstairs and took a bath. When I came out, my mom was upstairs and she was crying. This was not about her. This was not about me comforting her, which is what she wanted.
The momma bear came out in me, protecting my child that I don't even have yet. "This is 2009 almost, we have a black president for god's sake. Is a black baby somehow less desirable (insert air quotes) than an Asian baby or a Latin baby? I don't care where the baby comes from. If I've learned anything over the past two years, it's not where the baby comes from, it's that I get to be a mom. And if I hear remarks like the one I just did in front of my non-Caucasian that will be the last time he sees that child."
The point was made. No apologies were needed. I just didn't ever want to hear it again. When I talked to my friends the next day, I almost couldn't repeat the story. I was embarrassed that my father could actually still utter words like that.
I know he's of a different generation, but that excuse can really only go so far. And it was one thing to hear him say things like that and ignore him, but it's hitting a little too close to home. Or it could potentially be hitting close to home.
He was better the rest of the week. There were no off-color remarks. No offensive terms. At least not in front of me, which is all I can ask for.
And it made me feel very maternal. Sticking up for my future child to someone that I've never stood up to. I guess that's what parents do, even when they are still someone's child.
I went in for a baseline ultrasound this morning -- they said everything looked like it's supposed to -- and so on Thursday I'll start the Gonal-F shots. That will basically turn my ovaries into Jiffy Pop -- making lots of egg follicles. Hopefully as many as last time (seven eggs, five embryos). And then next week I'll go in for ultrasounds on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Hopefully the following week will be the retrieval -- early enough that I can still make it to Richmond for Christmas, maybe even Christmas Eve, too.
My emotions are in better shape than they have been in the past few weeks, and my acupuncturist reminded me that I was on the pill for two weeks. Straight estrogen was bound to make my emotions a little crazy. Hopefully that's over and I can try to stay positive from here on out.
Last week when we were in Richmond, my father made a fairly bland, but definitely off-color remark. I have mentioned to my mom that it bothered me when remarks like that were made, because what if I can't get pregnant and I end up adopting. The baby will not be white. And I don't care.
The remark was made, and I got up in the middle of dinner and walked away. Went upstairs and took a bath. When I came out, my mom was upstairs and she was crying. This was not about her. This was not about me comforting her, which is what she wanted.
The momma bear came out in me, protecting my child that I don't even have yet. "This is 2009 almost, we have a black president for god's sake. Is a black baby somehow less desirable (insert air quotes) than an Asian baby or a Latin baby? I don't care where the baby comes from. If I've learned anything over the past two years, it's not where the baby comes from, it's that I get to be a mom. And if I hear remarks like the one I just did in front of my non-Caucasian that will be the last time he sees that child."
The point was made. No apologies were needed. I just didn't ever want to hear it again. When I talked to my friends the next day, I almost couldn't repeat the story. I was embarrassed that my father could actually still utter words like that.
I know he's of a different generation, but that excuse can really only go so far. And it was one thing to hear him say things like that and ignore him, but it's hitting a little too close to home. Or it could potentially be hitting close to home.
He was better the rest of the week. There were no off-color remarks. No offensive terms. At least not in front of me, which is all I can ask for.
And it made me feel very maternal. Sticking up for my future child to someone that I've never stood up to. I guess that's what parents do, even when they are still someone's child.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
I'm Just Asking for a Little Compassion
But perhaps that's too much to ask for.
I spent the week in Richmond, with my parents, at my brother's house. Many stories including the phone call from J on Monday night and Tuesday night dinner with my niece's boyfriend, but more on all that later.
As we were driving home yesterday, my cell phone rang. It was my niece (the one who got married this past summer, the stupid family wedding fame). I was in the bathroom at McDonald's so just hit ignore.
As my parents were ordering something to eat, I went outside to listen to the voice mail.
"Yeah, hey Ellie, just wanted to see if you had a good Thanksgiving and to let you know I'm expecting. Yea totally crazy...wasn't planning on it, we weren't even trying, it just happened. So I'm due July 9th. Call me back if you want."
I turned my back to my parents inside the restaurant and started crying. But I had to pull myself together. I wasn't going to tell them for a number of reasons. Not my news, not my place to tell my parents. And I wasn't going to get into a car for four more hours and discuss this.
My eyes welled up several times on the drive home. I tried to push it out of my head. I tried not to think about it. I'm happy for her, of course.
But really....is that the way you tell someone who has been struggling with infertility for the past 18 months? Seriously.
My fucking family -- and that's the way I feel about most of them these days -- can't see past the nose of their faces. And sure, I'm probably being a little egocentric about this as well, but really...
I talked to my sister-in-law and Bubbles -- both reacted the same way. That is to say, that they don't think I'm over-reacting, being selfish or being egocentric. Both feel that a little bit of compassion and understanding could have been a part of the phone message.
Of course I would want to know, of course I'm glad she called me, and as I said, of course I'm happy for her. But at the same time, I'm sad for me. At the same time, I would have appreciated a little human decency on her part in telling me.
I haven't been able to call her back. And probably won't. At some point I will send her an email.
I've been having anxiety over Christmas. With my cycle and the retrieval and transfer dates up in the air at this point, I wasn't sure if I would be able to go to Richmond for Christmas. If I didn't do that, then I would go to my sister's in Syracuse.
I always have anxiety when the entire family (or damn close to it) gets together. I'm the odd man out, I feel self-conscious about everything. Virginia is easier, but questionable this year.
Well, the parents-to-be will be home for Christmas this year. More than I could really take. So even if I'm driving eight hours on December 25th, or I spend it alone in Ithaca, I'm not going to Syracuse. It would be too much.
And maybe that's me having a pity party for myself. Or maybe I'll change my mind in a few days or a few weeks. Or maybe I won't. I guess only time will tell.
And so for the "I-don't-know-how-many-times" time, I'll feel lousy for a few days and then try to snap out of it. I really thought when I woke up yesterday that it was the start of feeling good, of moving forward and being positive.
Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.
I spent the week in Richmond, with my parents, at my brother's house. Many stories including the phone call from J on Monday night and Tuesday night dinner with my niece's boyfriend, but more on all that later.
As we were driving home yesterday, my cell phone rang. It was my niece (the one who got married this past summer, the stupid family wedding fame). I was in the bathroom at McDonald's so just hit ignore.
As my parents were ordering something to eat, I went outside to listen to the voice mail.
"Yeah, hey Ellie, just wanted to see if you had a good Thanksgiving and to let you know I'm expecting. Yea totally crazy...wasn't planning on it, we weren't even trying, it just happened. So I'm due July 9th. Call me back if you want."
I turned my back to my parents inside the restaurant and started crying. But I had to pull myself together. I wasn't going to tell them for a number of reasons. Not my news, not my place to tell my parents. And I wasn't going to get into a car for four more hours and discuss this.
My eyes welled up several times on the drive home. I tried to push it out of my head. I tried not to think about it. I'm happy for her, of course.
But really....is that the way you tell someone who has been struggling with infertility for the past 18 months? Seriously.
My fucking family -- and that's the way I feel about most of them these days -- can't see past the nose of their faces. And sure, I'm probably being a little egocentric about this as well, but really...
I talked to my sister-in-law and Bubbles -- both reacted the same way. That is to say, that they don't think I'm over-reacting, being selfish or being egocentric. Both feel that a little bit of compassion and understanding could have been a part of the phone message.
Of course I would want to know, of course I'm glad she called me, and as I said, of course I'm happy for her. But at the same time, I'm sad for me. At the same time, I would have appreciated a little human decency on her part in telling me.
I haven't been able to call her back. And probably won't. At some point I will send her an email.
I've been having anxiety over Christmas. With my cycle and the retrieval and transfer dates up in the air at this point, I wasn't sure if I would be able to go to Richmond for Christmas. If I didn't do that, then I would go to my sister's in Syracuse.
I always have anxiety when the entire family (or damn close to it) gets together. I'm the odd man out, I feel self-conscious about everything. Virginia is easier, but questionable this year.
Well, the parents-to-be will be home for Christmas this year. More than I could really take. So even if I'm driving eight hours on December 25th, or I spend it alone in Ithaca, I'm not going to Syracuse. It would be too much.
And maybe that's me having a pity party for myself. Or maybe I'll change my mind in a few days or a few weeks. Or maybe I won't. I guess only time will tell.
And so for the "I-don't-know-how-many-times" time, I'll feel lousy for a few days and then try to snap out of it. I really thought when I woke up yesterday that it was the start of feeling good, of moving forward and being positive.
Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
My Day Yesterday
I was over-tired from being up late on the phone with J.
Towards the end of the day, a friend at work confided in me and another friend that he and his wife are expecting. So there I sat, with my 33-weeks-pregnant friend and another one about to have another baby. When Heather asked if they had been trying long, we heard, "we thought it might, but it happened almost immediately."
I managed to hold it together until he left Heather's office. And then I broke down. I left work, skipped the gym, came home and got into bed pretty early.
I skipped through the TV channels. Law & Order -- pregnant woman. Next.
Discovery Health -- woman having quads. Next.
Food Network should be safe, right? A Challenge. Excellent. "Four bakers must make cake mystery client." Perfect.
Until the mystery client turned out to be a pregnant woman and the cake they had to make was for her baby shower.
I gave up at the point and just watched it. I even tortured myself and flipped over to the quads on commercials. I cried. Didn't wipe my tears, didn't blow my nose. Just laid on my bed, kitty on my lap, and cried.
I rolled over and fell asleep about 8pm. I managed to mostly sleep all night and woke up feeling a little better. At least not like I was going to break down at any given moment.
I'll be busy next week. I'm driving to Richmond on Sunday with my parents. We'll spend the week with my brother and his family, and then I'll be back on Friday. The next day, I'll begin giving myself the stomach shots. Moving forward. I just have to keep remembering that. I'm moving forward.
Towards the end of the day, a friend at work confided in me and another friend that he and his wife are expecting. So there I sat, with my 33-weeks-pregnant friend and another one about to have another baby. When Heather asked if they had been trying long, we heard, "we thought it might, but it happened almost immediately."
I managed to hold it together until he left Heather's office. And then I broke down. I left work, skipped the gym, came home and got into bed pretty early.
I skipped through the TV channels. Law & Order -- pregnant woman. Next.
Discovery Health -- woman having quads. Next.
Food Network should be safe, right? A Challenge. Excellent. "Four bakers must make cake mystery client." Perfect.
Until the mystery client turned out to be a pregnant woman and the cake they had to make was for her baby shower.
I gave up at the point and just watched it. I even tortured myself and flipped over to the quads on commercials. I cried. Didn't wipe my tears, didn't blow my nose. Just laid on my bed, kitty on my lap, and cried.
I rolled over and fell asleep about 8pm. I managed to mostly sleep all night and woke up feeling a little better. At least not like I was going to break down at any given moment.
I'll be busy next week. I'm driving to Richmond on Sunday with my parents. We'll spend the week with my brother and his family, and then I'll be back on Friday. The next day, I'll begin giving myself the stomach shots. Moving forward. I just have to keep remembering that. I'm moving forward.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I'm an emotional wreck. It's the holidays. It's the no baby. It's the always being tired from the hormones and the waiting and the hoping.
I talked to J last night. He made me cry. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want to give him updates and tell him about the second failed IVF attempt. I didn't want to tell him how I was feeling, but he pushed. And I cried.
I told him I didn't want him to hear my cry. He told me to go ahead and cry. And so I did. I filled him in on how I was feeling. And the emotional roller coaster I've been riding.
And he was great. He apologized for not keeping on top of it, for not checking in on me more often. I should have called him out on all of this, what's going on with him, what's going on with us. But I didn't. Because in the end, it just felt good to hear someone be that concerned about me. It felt right, even though it's not.
We talked for about an hour. He kept me up way too late, but it was worth it.
I talked to J last night. He made me cry. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want to give him updates and tell him about the second failed IVF attempt. I didn't want to tell him how I was feeling, but he pushed. And I cried.
I told him I didn't want him to hear my cry. He told me to go ahead and cry. And so I did. I filled him in on how I was feeling. And the emotional roller coaster I've been riding.
And he was great. He apologized for not keeping on top of it, for not checking in on me more often. I should have called him out on all of this, what's going on with him, what's going on with us. But I didn't. Because in the end, it just felt good to hear someone be that concerned about me. It felt right, even though it's not.
We talked for about an hour. He kept me up way too late, but it was worth it.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Fertility Gurus Deserve a Vacation, Too
I talked to the doctor's office today. It's day 3 of my cycle, and even though I'm officially taking November off, I actually get to do something now.
I'll start taking birth control pills tonight, for two weeks. And then the next day (the Saturday after Thanksgiving), I will start with one of the stomach shots. All of this will suppress ovulation this month and hopefully start my next cycle earlier. The last day the office is doing retrievals is December 20 before the FG is going on vacation for the holidays.
My nurse thinks we'll be able to get it all in, that we'll have time to do the retrieval before the 20th. And so I picked up my BCP at Wegmans after work and I feel like I'm actually doing something, I'm moving forward again, working towards the next time.
I'll start taking birth control pills tonight, for two weeks. And then the next day (the Saturday after Thanksgiving), I will start with one of the stomach shots. All of this will suppress ovulation this month and hopefully start my next cycle earlier. The last day the office is doing retrievals is December 20 before the FG is going on vacation for the holidays.
My nurse thinks we'll be able to get it all in, that we'll have time to do the retrieval before the 20th. And so I picked up my BCP at Wegmans after work and I feel like I'm actually doing something, I'm moving forward again, working towards the next time.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Cranky Wednesday
So on Friday, I got my test results. Negative. I stopped the shots, the pills and the suppositories -- all hormones cut off, and I expected that I would get my period on Sunday or Monday.
I cried a little over the weekend, had my usual mourning period, and then started to think about the next steps. It's a comfortable pattern I've established. And then Monday came and no period. By Tuesday morning, I started to have hopeful thoughts.
What if the test was wrong? What if it was a false negative? What if I'm really pregnant? I will wait to tell my parents at Thanksgiving. I can tell my brother, sister-in-law and niece in person. I can tell my close friends in Baltimore in person.
And so it went, the fantasy of being pregnant. The fantasy of being able to hug my friends and family who are far away, but who I will be seeing in just a little over a week, when I tell them that I'm having a baby.
Wednesday morning...this morning, my body decided it was time to bitch slap me back into reality. And so, even though I thought I had moved beyond the mourning, even though I had decided it was time to think about next steps and be positive for December, I've taken a step backward.
I got my period, and all of the feelings I had on Friday and Saturday, the sadness, the grief, the feeling like my body is failing me -- they all came back. Five days after getting my test result. I have to deal with these emotions all over again.
And I will. And the good part about having so many failed attempts, the good part about having so many disappointments, is that I know I can move on, I know that the sadness lessens, and that I won't always feel like this. I'll feel hopeful again, I'll feel like I can do this, that at some point it will work.
Someday I'll feel like that again. But not today.
I cried a little over the weekend, had my usual mourning period, and then started to think about the next steps. It's a comfortable pattern I've established. And then Monday came and no period. By Tuesday morning, I started to have hopeful thoughts.
What if the test was wrong? What if it was a false negative? What if I'm really pregnant? I will wait to tell my parents at Thanksgiving. I can tell my brother, sister-in-law and niece in person. I can tell my close friends in Baltimore in person.
And so it went, the fantasy of being pregnant. The fantasy of being able to hug my friends and family who are far away, but who I will be seeing in just a little over a week, when I tell them that I'm having a baby.
Wednesday morning...this morning, my body decided it was time to bitch slap me back into reality. And so, even though I thought I had moved beyond the mourning, even though I had decided it was time to think about next steps and be positive for December, I've taken a step backward.
I got my period, and all of the feelings I had on Friday and Saturday, the sadness, the grief, the feeling like my body is failing me -- they all came back. Five days after getting my test result. I have to deal with these emotions all over again.
And I will. And the good part about having so many failed attempts, the good part about having so many disappointments, is that I know I can move on, I know that the sadness lessens, and that I won't always feel like this. I'll feel hopeful again, I'll feel like I can do this, that at some point it will work.
Someday I'll feel like that again. But not today.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Everyone's Pregnant...
except me.
I'll get out of my funk after a weekend of crying and feeling sorry for myself. We decided to take November off since I will be traveling for Thanksgiving, and do another egg retrieval in December.
I've got nothing else to say. I can only repeat myself so many times. For how I'm feeling, see a post from one of the previous negative tests.
I'll be in a better mood next week.
I'll get out of my funk after a weekend of crying and feeling sorry for myself. We decided to take November off since I will be traveling for Thanksgiving, and do another egg retrieval in December.
I've got nothing else to say. I can only repeat myself so many times. For how I'm feeling, see a post from one of the previous negative tests.
I'll be in a better mood next week.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
I've not been a very good friend lately
I've been pretty introspective the past week, not really sharing or opening up about what I'm feeling or keeping people in the loop about the process.
I got a phone call from my friend Jan in Baltimore last night. And when I saw her number come up on the caller ID, I instantly felt guilty. I haven't talked to her in several weeks, since my last IVF, and that was a call that she initiated too. And even when we were chatting and catching up, there was an elephant in the room. I avoided all talk of fertility and babies and trying to get pregnant.
Sometimes I just don't want to talk about it. It occupies my mind 95% of the day, that every once in a while, I just don't want to talk about it.
As we were hanging up, I apologized for being out of touch, that I was in my own world, trying to deal with all the emotions. She asked what was going on, and I told her I was in the middle of my second embryo transfer. And amazingly, as have all of my friends, she took it well when I told her I wasn't telling anyone when the blood test is.
"You tell me what you want to, when you want to."
I have wonderful friends...and someday soon, I'll be the friend I once was to them again.
I got a phone call from my friend Jan in Baltimore last night. And when I saw her number come up on the caller ID, I instantly felt guilty. I haven't talked to her in several weeks, since my last IVF, and that was a call that she initiated too. And even when we were chatting and catching up, there was an elephant in the room. I avoided all talk of fertility and babies and trying to get pregnant.
Sometimes I just don't want to talk about it. It occupies my mind 95% of the day, that every once in a while, I just don't want to talk about it.
As we were hanging up, I apologized for being out of touch, that I was in my own world, trying to deal with all the emotions. She asked what was going on, and I told her I was in the middle of my second embryo transfer. And amazingly, as have all of my friends, she took it well when I told her I wasn't telling anyone when the blood test is.
"You tell me what you want to, when you want to."
I have wonderful friends...and someday soon, I'll be the friend I once was to them again.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Tricks of the Trade
My friend (who has three IVF babies) called me the other day to check on me, and then to tell quite strongly the things I need to do this week.
Make chicken soup. My way of making chicken soup is chicken stock (from a box from the store) with veggies in a crock pot. The chicken is an already cooked rotisserie also from the store. She told me how wrong I was. "No, Ellie....you need a raw chicken, you need to make your own broth. You need the bone marrow to seep into the broth."
Three-pound raw chicken, check.
Drink molasses with hot water. "And not just regular molasses, Ellie. You need to get blackstrap molasses." It's not as bad as it sounds. It actually tasted like what I think coffee tastes like (I'm not a coffee drinker.) I added milk and I got it down without gagging.
Drink molasses, check.
Full-fat yogurt. That one I knew. That one makes sense. But in this day of health-conscious, fat-free or low-fat this, sugar-free that, do you know how hard it is to find yogurt made with whole milk? I ended up buying YoBaby yogurt.
Yogurt, check.
The chicken is in the crock pot. I drank my molasses and had a yogurt for breakfast. I'm continuing all my meds this week, including the inter-muscular shot, which has gotten much easier, despite the bruises and tenderness all over my backside.
I've decided not to tell anyone when my blood test is. I feel like too many people knew. Too many people were anxious about the results, which in turn made me anxious. My friend Jill, who drove me to Syracuse last week, is the only one who knows the date because she was there when the nurse gave me the lab slip.
So I'll continue on this path -- chicken soup, molasses, yogurt, shots, pills, suppositories -- until my blood test.
Make chicken soup. My way of making chicken soup is chicken stock (from a box from the store) with veggies in a crock pot. The chicken is an already cooked rotisserie also from the store. She told me how wrong I was. "No, Ellie....you need a raw chicken, you need to make your own broth. You need the bone marrow to seep into the broth."
Three-pound raw chicken, check.
Drink molasses with hot water. "And not just regular molasses, Ellie. You need to get blackstrap molasses." It's not as bad as it sounds. It actually tasted like what I think coffee tastes like (I'm not a coffee drinker.) I added milk and I got it down without gagging.
Drink molasses, check.
Full-fat yogurt. That one I knew. That one makes sense. But in this day of health-conscious, fat-free or low-fat this, sugar-free that, do you know how hard it is to find yogurt made with whole milk? I ended up buying YoBaby yogurt.
Yogurt, check.
The chicken is in the crock pot. I drank my molasses and had a yogurt for breakfast. I'm continuing all my meds this week, including the inter-muscular shot, which has gotten much easier, despite the bruises and tenderness all over my backside.
I've decided not to tell anyone when my blood test is. I feel like too many people knew. Too many people were anxious about the results, which in turn made me anxious. My friend Jill, who drove me to Syracuse last week, is the only one who knows the date because she was there when the nurse gave me the lab slip.
So I'll continue on this path -- chicken soup, molasses, yogurt, shots, pills, suppositories -- until my blood test.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
This and That....Frick and Frack
Everyone I know who has gone to the fertility guru had an unsuccessful first attempt at IVF -- and a successful attempt on try #2. I'm hoping those odds work in my favor.
This morning, Jill picked me up and after a quick stop through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through for bagels, we headed to Syracuse. Dr. Richard Gere was as charming as usual -- of course, I took a valium when I got to the office so that could have something to do with it -- and we hugged and squeezed hands and he had encouraging, spiritual words to say over my belly.
And then the speculum was in, the internal ultrasound was in, the catheter was in...and then Frick and Frack went in. In to 9mm of uterine lining, into a belly that wants them to hang on tight, into their mommy who will do whatever it takes to encourage them to burrow in and thrive.
When I got home from acupuncture this afternoon, I talked to my mom, who proceeded to tell me that she spoke to Buffalo Dave this morning. (For those keeping track, Buffalo Dave is my friend, broke my heart, and is also my parents' stockbroker.) He asked how I was doing. And rather than the easy "she's great...you should give her a call" she said, "at this moment, she's being inseminated." (I've given up trying to explain the difference between all of the procedures that I'm going through.)
I took a deep breath. "Please don't tell people what I'm doing, specifically."
"He knows you're trying to have a baby."
"Yes, but I don't tell people, specifically what I'm doing each day throughout this process. If they are interested enough in my life, they will ask me, they will call me to give me support. Without that, they don't have a right to know."
"But...."
"Just please respect my wishes. I don't need him calling me in two weeks to find out if I'm pregnant."
"He wouldn't do that."
"Not the point. Even if you think people are on the approved list, please don't tell them anything. Tell them if they are that interested, they should call me."
I know she means well. I know she's excited. But she needs to respect my wishes, and she needs to respect my boundaries.
Another example, she told my sister-in-law last month, "well no baby this month."
As if my sister-in-law (not my sister-in-law in Virgina) has said boo to me about what I'm going through in the past 18 months. No one needs a scorecard of my pregnancy tests, unless they earned the right to know. And they earn it by showing me support. Frankly, as much as I love Buffalo Dave, he hasn't earned the right to know the details. And certainly most people in my own family haven't earned the right to know the details.
I know I set standards for other people too high sometimes, I expect of them what I expect of myself. And I'm usually disappointed. My friend in Rochester is in the process of adopting from Colombia. All the paperwork is in order, they are just waiting. And waiting.
Last week, I sent her an email: "I'm not going to ask if you've heard anything, or if you have any news or when you think you might hear something or even how you're doing...I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you."
If more people -- who am I kidding, just one person -- could send me something like that....it would go a long way.
Enough negativity. I'm going to get into bed shortly, listen to my meditation CD, track 2 "post transfer," and try to get a good night's sleep.
Happy burrowing, Frick and Frack.
This morning, Jill picked me up and after a quick stop through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through for bagels, we headed to Syracuse. Dr. Richard Gere was as charming as usual -- of course, I took a valium when I got to the office so that could have something to do with it -- and we hugged and squeezed hands and he had encouraging, spiritual words to say over my belly.
And then the speculum was in, the internal ultrasound was in, the catheter was in...and then Frick and Frack went in. In to 9mm of uterine lining, into a belly that wants them to hang on tight, into their mommy who will do whatever it takes to encourage them to burrow in and thrive.
When I got home from acupuncture this afternoon, I talked to my mom, who proceeded to tell me that she spoke to Buffalo Dave this morning. (For those keeping track, Buffalo Dave is my friend, broke my heart, and is also my parents' stockbroker.) He asked how I was doing. And rather than the easy "she's great...you should give her a call" she said, "at this moment, she's being inseminated." (I've given up trying to explain the difference between all of the procedures that I'm going through.)
I took a deep breath. "Please don't tell people what I'm doing, specifically."
"He knows you're trying to have a baby."
"Yes, but I don't tell people, specifically what I'm doing each day throughout this process. If they are interested enough in my life, they will ask me, they will call me to give me support. Without that, they don't have a right to know."
"But...."
"Just please respect my wishes. I don't need him calling me in two weeks to find out if I'm pregnant."
"He wouldn't do that."
"Not the point. Even if you think people are on the approved list, please don't tell them anything. Tell them if they are that interested, they should call me."
I know she means well. I know she's excited. But she needs to respect my wishes, and she needs to respect my boundaries.
Another example, she told my sister-in-law last month, "well no baby this month."
As if my sister-in-law (not my sister-in-law in Virgina) has said boo to me about what I'm going through in the past 18 months. No one needs a scorecard of my pregnancy tests, unless they earned the right to know. And they earn it by showing me support. Frankly, as much as I love Buffalo Dave, he hasn't earned the right to know the details. And certainly most people in my own family haven't earned the right to know the details.
I know I set standards for other people too high sometimes, I expect of them what I expect of myself. And I'm usually disappointed. My friend in Rochester is in the process of adopting from Colombia. All the paperwork is in order, they are just waiting. And waiting.
Last week, I sent her an email: "I'm not going to ask if you've heard anything, or if you have any news or when you think you might hear something or even how you're doing...I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you."
If more people -- who am I kidding, just one person -- could send me something like that....it would go a long way.
Enough negativity. I'm going to get into bed shortly, listen to my meditation CD, track 2 "post transfer," and try to get a good night's sleep.
Happy burrowing, Frick and Frack.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Big Shot
When Casey brought me a dead mouse, I would have loved for someone else to have dealt with the dead carcass.
When there is a bug or a spider in the house, I would rather someone else kill it.
And I'm sure, when I'm exhausted to the point of tears and there is a crying baby, there isn't going to be anyone else to get up to change the diaper or give the bottle.
And so it goes now. There is no one to give me the progesterone in oil shot. And so I have to do it myself.
I cringe and deal with the dead mouse. Psyche myself up to squish the spider. And drag myself out of bed to soothe the baby.
Tonight, I got home from the gym, pulled out an alcohol wipe, the medicine bottle, the syringe and two needles. I pulled my sweat pants down my hip a little, cleaned a spot, sucked up 1cc of oil (it's really thick and took forever), and then reached around, contorted my back, and stuck the needle in. I pushed the plunger slowly -- slow and steady -- as the oil went into my right buttock.
And then I massaged and kneaded it, so as not to get a clump of oil. And I was done.
So the crying the other night, the worrying about doing this on my own or not being able to do it on my own....I did it. I gave myself the shot -- what everyone called "the hard shot" -- and managed to do it with little fanfare and little pain.
I can do this.
When there is a bug or a spider in the house, I would rather someone else kill it.
And I'm sure, when I'm exhausted to the point of tears and there is a crying baby, there isn't going to be anyone else to get up to change the diaper or give the bottle.
And so it goes now. There is no one to give me the progesterone in oil shot. And so I have to do it myself.
I cringe and deal with the dead mouse. Psyche myself up to squish the spider. And drag myself out of bed to soothe the baby.
Tonight, I got home from the gym, pulled out an alcohol wipe, the medicine bottle, the syringe and two needles. I pulled my sweat pants down my hip a little, cleaned a spot, sucked up 1cc of oil (it's really thick and took forever), and then reached around, contorted my back, and stuck the needle in. I pushed the plunger slowly -- slow and steady -- as the oil went into my right buttock.
And then I massaged and kneaded it, so as not to get a clump of oil. And I was done.
So the crying the other night, the worrying about doing this on my own or not being able to do it on my own....I did it. I gave myself the shot -- what everyone called "the hard shot" -- and managed to do it with little fanfare and little pain.
I can do this.
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