Some Good News to Even Out the Bad June 30, 2005
I know I’ve been a big whiner lately. It just seems like I’m getting kicked in the ass over and over again. I still am some, but at least there are a few pieces of good news to compensate for that a bit.
I finally, after 5.5 weeks of waiting, got my Cystic Fibrosis results in the mail today. They have been faxed to my IVF coordinator, so all of my pre IVF testing is officially complete. Good thing since baseline’s in a week.
We got our lease for our new apartment in the mail today. It makes me feel better to be able to look forward to a fresh start. I am so ready to get the hell away from this apartment complex. That whole situation still isn’t resolved.
The best news of the day award goes to my husband. He found out the salary for his clerkship today. Yes, it’s kind of odd to accept a job and not know what the salary will be, but that’s how it works. He is not taking this job for the money. It’s a very prestigious job and a very good career move.
Anyway, we knew the range that his salary would fall in, but it was a pretty big range, about $20K to be exact. He found out today that his salary will be at the uppermost end of that range. Woo hoo! It will still be about a $30K pay cut for him, but that’s a lot better than a $50K one.
Of course, everything’s not perfect, but that’s ok. Getting this good news today almost makes me forget that my meds are giving me fits. The Lupron is making me tired and fuzzy headed, and the Dexamethasone is giving me insomnia. It makes for a lovely combination.
It’s nice to get good news, though. Very nice indeed.
I Think the Universe Hates Me June 29, 2005
Before I start posting away about more crap, I just wanted to thank you guys. I honestly don’t know how I would make it through this shit without you.
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I really don’t know what I’ve done to piss off the universe. It must have been something big. I just can’t seem to win these days.
Tuesday my husband and I noticed that one of our cats, Salvador, was limping and holding his paw up when he sat or stood. We gave him a major once over and discovered that one of his claws had actually grown into his little paw pad. It kills me when one of my kitties is sick or hurt. I took him to the vet yesterday morning and got him all taken care of. He’s feeling better now, thankfully.
The thing that’s really pissing me off right now is having to deal with the management of our apartment complex. They are currently trying to screw us over on our lease arrangements, and it’s looking like we may have to pay an extra $750. I’ve turned the situation over to my husband, because I ended up balling on the phone yesterday when I tried to get anywhere with the stupid people on site. My husband talked to the manager yesterday afternoon and is supposed to hear back from her today. I highly doubt we’ll win this one, though. Fuckers.
I’m just way too emotional to be dealing with this shit right now. My hormones are going fucking insane, and it’s not pretty. Can’t things just go smoothly for a little bit? Please?
I guess there is one piece of good news to report. I get to take my last birth control pill tonight. That’s always a good thing. It will hardly make up for the wrath of the Lupron side effects, but I’ll take what I can get.
One day I hope to be able to post a cheery, happy post. I’m tired of being hit right and left with shit, and I’m tired of how it makes me feel. I’m hoping that the Universe will cut me a break at some point in the near future.
Things Aren’t Always Pretty June 28, 2005
I wrote a post last night that I was not sure I was going to publish. I know that at least one of the people I referenced in my post read my blog. I really, really do not want to make either one of my friends feel badly if they happen to read this post. With that said, I try really hard not to censor myself on my blog. I don’t just post the pretty stuff. There’s a lot of ugly, too, and last night was one of those ugly times. I decided to go ahead and post it, because this is me. It may not be pretty, but it’s how I felt.
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I honestly don’t know if I should be posting this. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone’s feelings. I don’t know who to talk to about this, though, so I’m just going to put it all out there.
I’m sitting here with tears dripping down my face, and I can’t make them stop. I want to so badly, but I can’t. I feel so selfish, but I can’t help that either. Why can’t I just be a bigger person? Why do I let this get to me so much?
I’ve been posting with a group of women for almost a year. We all started out going through our first IVF cycles at the same time. A pretty good number of our cycle buddies got lucky on their first attempts and sauntered off into pregnancy land. The rest of us didn’t share their luck. Since then we’ve all been cycling and cycling. All of us have multiple failed cycles under our belts. It seemed that none of us would ever get lucky.
Until today. One of my good friends, who I’ve actually had the pleasure of meeting in person, finally got lucky on her third cycle. I am genuinely happy for her. I know the shit she’s gone through to get to this point, and I really wanted this for her with all of my heart.
But, and it’s a big but, I’m not dealing well with the news. As much as I am happy for my friend, I am sad for myself. Very, very sad.
I met another friend online before we had even started IVF. I even joined a message board in order to respond to one of her posts way back when. Her husband has azoospermia, too, so we can relate to each other well. They waited a while to do their first cycle, and during that time I got to jump on the IVF train again and again.
I knew that she was going through her cycle and have been emailing her periodically to get updates. I got the beta update today. It worked the first time. Am I happy for her and her husband? Without a doubt. Without a fucking doubt. Like with my other friend, I wanted this for her so badly. I really, really wanted it to work for her the first time.
Once again, though, I took the news hard. I’ve always felt that using surgically retrieved sperm adds one extra tricky dimension to this IVF crap. I’m glad that wasn’t the case for them, but it’s hard for me.
God, I hate myself so much for this. Me, me, me. Why the hell does it all have to be about fucking me?
I want nothing but the best for these two friends and all of the rest of my friends I’ve been fortunate enough to meet in the internet world. I want these two friends to have happy, healthy pregnancies. I really want that with all of my heart.
So, why does their wonderful news make me so sad? Why can’t I just get past the me factor? Why can’t I just be happy for them period.
I guess this shit is just too hard sometimes. I guess that even happy news can dredge up unhappiness inside. I so wish that wasn’t the case, though. I just want to be able to celebrate with my friends without having to deal with the crap churning around on the inside.
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I am feeling a little better this morning. However, I’m still having a hard time with this and some other crap thrown in the mix for good measure. One of my kittys is hurt, and that’s not helping any either.
I need to make one point clear. No matter how it seemed in my previous post, I am not happy or excited about doing another damn cycle. Does it help me to be doing something rather than sitting on my ass not making any progress in the baby making pursuit? Hell yes. Would I rather not have to ever do another IVF cycle again as long as I live? You bet ya.
Sometimes when you’ve been knocked down again and again you have to do something to get yourself off of the floor and back into the ring. Yesterday was part of that. I am bruised and beaten and not seeing straight. Yet, I need to find a way to get myself back in the ring knowing that my ass will get kicked one more time. That’s tough. Extremely.
So, I will get past my own feelings of sadness or jealousy or whatever the fuck they are, and I will be happy for my friends. Shit, I’m happy for them already, but I will get past my crap so that nothing will stand in my way of celebrating with them.
I will also get my ass off of the ground and live to fight another round. I may end up in a freaking coma after this round, but I’m going to do it anyway. At least I know that I’ll get in a few punches before I hit the ground one more time.
Getting My Fix June 27, 2005
I get to start shooting up once again tonight. I feel like a junkie who’s in need of a major fix.
It’s so funny to me to think back to when we were gearing up for our first cycle. I was really quite scared of the whole injection thing. I was also scared that my husband was going to pass out during the first one. Of course he didn’t, and after all the practice, he’s now quite a pro.
Obviously I’m no longer scared of the injections. I think I got past that after the first one. Now it’s pretty much the opposite. In fact, I think I’m addicted to them. I mean, I actually miss them when I’m in between cycles.
I’m addicted because shooting up feels like doing something. I’m actively doing something when I’m jabbing myself with a needle. For us, trying to conceive will always involve syringes and needles, so when I’m not shooting up, we’re not trying to conceive. I don’t like breaks, and I don’t like to not be actively pursuing this stuff. So, I guess it’s not so strange that I dislike being injection free.
Of course, I’m not looking forward to the lovely Lupron side effects. They seem to come earlier and earlier each cycle, so I’m betting on three days of Lupron before they hit. It will be worth it, though. Not because I think that if I go through all of this I’ll end up pregnant. No, it’s worth it because I’ll be doing something.
I Need To Get Something Off My Chest June 24, 2005
This is not intended to be directed at anyone in particular, but I need to vent a little.
It drives me crazy when someone says “Oh, but you’re still so young” or “You have plenty of time to get pregnant.” First of all, I feel like this discounts what I’ve been through, and second of all, it doesn’t fucking matter how old I am if this crap won’t work.
Doing IVF at a relatively young age is supposed to give you an advantage. Just look at the stats. The under 35 category almost always has a better success rate than the others. There’s no arguing that younger eggs usually have fewer abnormalities and thus tend to result in more pregnancies.
I don’t give a fuck about the statistics, though. My personal statistics are crap. 0-4 is not a great record. Fuck the RE who said we had a 50-60% at this working the first time. This shit either works 100% or it doesn’t.
And what does it say when I can’t get pregnant with 27 year old eggs? Is anyone in their right mind going to tell me that I’m going to have a better chance when my eggs are 37?
I am glad we started trying to conceive at a young age. However, it doesn’t make the fact that the last 3.5 years have been spent in a fruitless attempt at this any easier, and it sure as hell doesn’t make our last four IVF failures any easier.
The thing is that we have a limited number of attempts at this IVF crap due to financial reasons. So, it doesn’t matter when we do them if at the end of those cycles we walk away with nothing to show for it.
I’m certainly not trying to start an “it’s harder for me because I’m [insert age here]” thing. I know age is a major point of contention in the IVF world especially when you start talking multiple failed cycles. I’m sure if I was over 40 attempting IVF and read this I’d think, “Fuck you, bitch.” That’s fine, but being young is not the key to success that everyone thinks it is.
Telling someone they have plenty of time to get pregnant is like telling them, “Sure, you’ve been through hell and back these x# of years, but who cares. Why don’t you just extend that agony for the foreseeable future?” I don’t want to do this forever. Like all of us, I want a child like yesterday.
I may have started this IVF crap as a youngin, but I may very well be forced to walk away from it as a youngin, too.
Plan B-less June 22, 2005
It feels weird to not have a Plan B this cycle. It feels even more bizarre to not be actively trying to come up with one.
I’m big on backup plans. It’s one thing that helps me get through the devastating ends of our cycles. I’ve always known that no matter what happened with a cycle that we would have something else to fall back on. It’s what allows me to pick myself up and dust myself off after each heartbreak.
There is no Plan B this time, though. We don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do if the cycle doesn’t work. We don’t have the luxury of being able to jump back into another cycle this time. We don’t have the cash sitting around to be able to do that. I feel fortunate that we’ve been able to cycle as many times as we have, but after shelling out $50K we’re tapped out. We’ll be paying for these cycles for quite a while and just don’t have an unlimited savings account at our beck and call.
Yes, we do have options. We could fill in the infamous question of “Why don’t you just…?” with a number of things. Adopt, use donor sperm, and rob a bank come to mind. We’re not ready to commit to any of the above, though. So, we’re just not having a backup plan this time.
It makes me a little nervous not to have that safety net in place. The fall will undoubtedly hurt more. Much more.
I know that it’s not essential to have a Plan B in place. I know it’s impossible to predict the future anyway. I also know that no matter what happens with this cycle, that we’ll figure something out. I have no idea what that will be, but I know we’ll be able to do it. We will eventually find our Plan B one way or another.
An Impromtu Weekend Trip June 20, 2005
My husband was almost positive that he was going to have to work all weekend, so we weren’t planning to do much of anything this past weekend. Miraculously, the partner he’s working for right now didn’t hand him the pile of work at the end of the day on Friday that he was expecting. So, we decided to hop in the car for a mini road trip.
Bright and early Saturday morning we headed over to Louisiana to our hometown-to-be to look at apartments. We had already scoped out the city a couple of months ago, so we knew exactly which apartment complexes we wanted to take a closer look at.
Our hometown-to-be is nothing like Houston. We must have had 25 different apartment complexes on our list when we were moving here. Yesterday we had 3. There are a lot of complexes. There’s just not a lot of really nice ones.
It was very easy to pick from the three choices. One complex was a lot further out than the other two. Plus, it was in an extremely busy area. My husband is adamant about the fact that his commute will not be longer than it is right now. Who can blame him? When you move to a smaller city from a behemoth like Houston, you expect a shorter commute.
Choice two was easy to cross off of the list as well. It was nice, but we didn’t like it at all. It was in a planned community and just didn’t have a homey feeling whatsoever. Most of the apartments overlooked the parking lot.
So, option three it was. We actually liked it quite a bit. It’s really nice and has almost everything we were looking for. It’s in a less busy area of town, yet still convenient to shopping and downtown (where my hubby will be working). It’s also on a really nice property. There’s a big lake in the middle and tons of greenery everywhere. So, we submitted an application. It’s nice to know we’ll actually have somewhere to live when we move in 7 weeks.
We decided not to let the baby factor affect our decision making process this time. We actually downsized a bit. When we signed the lease of our current apartment, we were months away from the azoospermia diagnosis. Sure, we had been trying for quite some time, but I guess we were still in denial that it could actually work.
We live in a 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment right now. It’s nice and big. Of course, when we decided on this floor plan we were thinking, “Oh, let’s make sure we have enough room for a baby.” Not this time. No siree.
We decided to go with a 1 bedroom, 1 bath with a study. Plenty big for the two of us. We’ve learned not to live our lives assuming this stuff might work. If, by some miracle, this cycle works we’ll be fine. We’ll only be living in hometown-to-be for a year. That’s how long my husband’s clerkship is. If it doesn’t work, we won’t be stuck living in an apartment that we envisioned having a family in.
Enough about that. On the way back, we stopped and visited my parents. My brother and his new girlfriend were in town as well. We ate way too well and way too much.
So, it was a good weekend. I don’t think I cried once. A vast improvement from last week. Distractions are good. I think it will be good to be packing up and doing everything that it takes to pull off a move while I’m cycling.
I’m trying really hard not to be a big whiner and complainer right now. I know my posts from last week were nothing but. So, I’m not going to mention the fact that my arms are still sore from lugging around a cryo tank on Friday or the fact that I burned the shit out of my thumb last night. Nope, no complaining from me today. I’m just focusing on the good. Cause ya know, there will alway be crap. Always. Sometimes I just need to find something else to concentrate on.
It’s Finally Done June 17, 2005
Operation sperm transpo is complete. I wish I was in the mood to celebrate, but I’m just not.
I got to new clinic early this morning to pick up the tank. After waiting for a while, I was given a form to sign that said I would need to put down a $1500 deposit for the tank and pay a $100 fee for the pleasure of using it. Given the fact that no one told me I was going to have to pay to use it, this came as quite a shock.
Then my IVF coordinator called me back and said she had something to discuss with me. My husband’s sperm would not be stored as we thought it would.
My husband’s first HIV, Hep B & C, and all of those other fun communicable tests were not done until after he had the surgery where the sperm was retrieved. The primary purpose of that surgery was to bypass the blockages so that we wouldn’t have to do IVF. Having the comminicables tests done beforehand was never mentioned to us. Obviously, the surgery wasn’t successful, and as a result the urologist had to retrieve sperm so we could jump into IVF hell.
The fact that the tests were done after the surgery instead of before has never been a problem in the past, but apparently regulations have changed since then. It now makes a difference. I was told that because of this that my husband’s sperm would have to be stored in a tank with samples of unknown status.
After getting the money blow and then the unknown status blow, I just lost it. I couldn’t stop the tears. Getting dealt all of this on top of my current state of moodiness and depression compliments of my friend, the birth control pill, was just too much.
I asked (ok, maybe more like demanded) to talk to someone about the whole unknown status situation, and my RE happened to have an extra minute. I sat there with tears dripping down my face while he explained the current regulations and their ramifications to me. Basically, because my husband’s sample was frozen before he had the communicable tests done, it was of unknown status initially. This means that other samples that it was stored with could have been of unknown status. So, even though we know that his sperm is not infected, we can’t be sure that it wasn’t stored with other sperm that were.
I realize the chances of actually contracting a disease as a result of my husband’s sperm being stored in the unknown status tank are very slim. It’s still upsetting, though. It’s just one more thing to add to the worry list.
It’s a good thing that I’m not one of those people who feel that it’s essential to make the best impression on their doctors. I do believe both “I’ve turned into a big depressed mega bitch” and “I hate this shit so damn much” came out of my mouth in front of my RE. Oops.
I guess one good thing came out of my meltdown, though. After my RE saw me in tears, he agreed to waive the $100 charge to use the tank.
The actual transportation of the sperm went pretty well. I dealt solely with the one person at my old clinic with whom I still get along, so that was good. Plus, no one gave me one bit of trouble about bailing the sperm out of there. Of course, no one besides the person I was dealing with said one word to me, but whatever.
The only part of the transportation that I had a problem with was the tank itself. It was sooooooo heavy. I’ve carried a cryo tank before, but this one was so much heavier. I’m just a little thing, and I had a lot of trouble carrying that behemoth of a tank. Why don’t they put wheels on those things? I made it, though. I’m already so sore as a result. I can’t even imagine how I’m going to feel in the morning. I’m just glad I didn’t break anything.
So, this did not turn out to be the day of celebration that I thought it would be. Sitting in my old clinic’s waiting room was hard. It brought back all of the bad memories of my past cycles. Dealing with all of the unexpected crap was hard, too. And mostly just dealing with my out of control emotions was the hardest.
I literally had an “I’m done” moment as a result of all of this. I was sitting there in tears and just had a major urge to stand up and say “I’m outta here.” I just didn’t want to have to deal with any it anymore.
Obviously, I didn’t. I can’t quit right now. I just can’t. The thing I’m having a hard time with right now, though, is being able to reach down and find the strength to get through all of this. I know it’s in there. I’m just having a hard time accessing it. I think I’ll be able to get to it much more easily once I’m off of these damn birth control pills. I hope I can make it until then.
Only Halfway Done? June 16, 2005
These stupid birth control pills are doing me in. I’ve turned into a depressed mega bitch, and it’s not pretty. Plus, I’m only halfway done with the fuckers. Normally after two weeks of popping those little pills, I’d only have one week left. Not this cycle. I get to experience the fun side effects for four weeks.
I really don’t know what to do with myself. I’m trying hard to fight the mood altering affects of these BCPs, but it’s hard. This has happened before, and I had to switch brands. I don’t want to have to do that this time, but I don’t like me right now. I don’t like the fact that I’m either a weeping mess or an angry bitch. I just want to be a little happy and to have a tad bit of control over my emotions.
Still no luck on the sperm transportation front. I think I’m getting closer, though. I found out that new clinic has a tank I can use, but I couldn’t use it today. It apparently needed to be charged. Who knew that sperm tanks have to be charged? Anyway, things are scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’m really not counting on it actually happening, but we’ll see.
Do I Have a “Fuck Me” Sign On My Back? June 15, 2005
I’m really about to lose it. I hate my old clinic so much it hurts. I just got a call letting me know that even though I had reserved their tank for tomorrow that they sent it out to New Jersey today. Perfect.
This is the third time that I have scheduled this sperm transportation shindig. This is the third time that they’ve fucked me over. I am so tired of it. So bone tired.
I called my IVF coordinator after I hung up with suckass clinic to see if new clinic has a tank I can use. The lab personnel had already left for the day, so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.
I’m seriously just about to concoct a makeshift tank out of a cooler and some dry ice. Then I could just kidnap the sperm from SAC and be done with it.
I realize that I shouldn’t let this situation get to me so much that my blood boils, but I can’t help it. It’s like SAC is doing this on purpose to screw me over for leaving. I don’t know if that’s the case, but I sure as hell wouldn’t put it past them.
Too bad my big box o’ drugs didn’t contain anything yummy like Valium or Vicodin. I would have had to break into it otherwise.
Big Box O’ Drugs Day
My meds were delivered this morning. I decided to avoid repeating the stress of cycle three that came from the whole ordering from overseas fiasco. I would link to it, but I devoted so many posts to it that the links would take up this entire post. So, it was back to my reliable US based pharmacy this cycle. It’s nice not having to worry about whether or not I will actually have anything to shoot up this cycle.
Anyone want to guess as to whether or not the sperm transportation situation has been resolved? I know, it’s not a tough one. Of course it hasn’t.
The tank finally showed up at SAC (suckass clinic) on Monday afternoon, but by that time it was too late for new clinic’s lab to accept the sperm. After several phone calls, the transport was rescheduled for tomorrow at 1:00. Oh, please let it actually happen then. I am so ready to be rid of SAC for good.
I’m thinking a party might be in order should this situation actually finally get resolved. I think the theme should be A final fuck you to suckass clinic. It’s got a ring to it.
This Sperm Thing Is Never Going to End June 13, 2005
My head is about to explode. Seriously. I feel sorry for whoever is going to have to clean it up.
I have been trying my damnedest to get this sperm transportation situation take care of. After things didn’t work out on Friday, I was told that the tank would be available first thing this morning. Based on that information, I let my current clinic know that I would be bringing in the sperm this morning.
I should know better than to trust what my old clinic says. I called this morning at 8:00 hoping to hear that the tank was there and ready for me to pick up. Oh, no. Things cannot be that easy. The tank wasn’t there, and I was told to call back at 9:00.
So, I did. The tank still wasn’t there. I was then told that they would try to get the tracking number so that they would know when it would arrive and then call me back. I waited for half an hour while my phone sat silent. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking, and my current clinic is expecting the sperm at any time.
At 9:30 I called back my stupid ass former clinic only to be told that they weren’t sure when the tank would arrive, but that it’s supposed to get there today. Oh, that’s helpful. So, I had to call my current clinic to let them know that I wasn’t going to be there when I was supposed to be. I left a message at the embryology lab, so hopefully they’ll let me bring it in this afternoon if the tank actually shows up.
This is beyond frustrating. I just want to transport some sperm, damn it. It really shouldn’t be this hard.
Did She Really Say That? June 11, 2005
We ended up going to the law firm social event thingy last night after all. My husband finished what he needed to do in time to go, so that was that. They had some very tasty margaritas there, I have to admit. It was imperative that I get at least a little sloshed if I was going to have to deal with the people there. You want an example?
We were sitting at a table with four other people for dinner. We were chit chatting about various things when the wife of one of my husband’s coworkers opened her mouth to win the stupidest comment of the evening award. She was talking about how hard it was to adopt her dog and said, “It’s easier to adopt a baby than a dog.”
What the fuck? People are so fucking clueless it’s pathetic.
At Least I Wasn’t Actually Taught Anything June 10, 2005
I survived my teach visit today. There was actually no teaching involved which was good. No one showed me how to draw up meds into a syringe or inject myself or anything of that nature. I think I’ve got all of that down by now anyway. We just went over my calendar and meds, got my prescriptions taken care of, and I turned in my consents. I even managed to score 2 vials of Repronex and a box of Vivelle patches. Bonus.
Speaking of scoring meds, I’d like to thank two of my blogging buddies who helped me out in that department this cycle. Thank you, my friends, from the bottom of my heart.
In other news, operation sperm transport is on hold. The tank was not shipped back to my old RE’s office when it should have been, so it was not there today for me to use. It’s supposed to be back early Monday morning, so I’m trying to arrange things for then. The good news is that I found out that we won’t have to pay anything to use the tank. Good thing. I mean, it’s not like they haven’t gotten enough of our money already.
Tonight we get to look forward to another fun law firm social event. Although, my husband has something that has to be filed today that may or may not be done by dinner time. I guess there’s a possibility that we may not make it after all. Darn. I’ll miss the free drinks, though.
Can This Week Just Be Over Please? June 9, 2005
I’m really not having a great time this week. Tuesday wasn’t much fun, and yesterday wasn’t either. Our water was out all day long. I hate that. I had a dentist appointment yesterday afternoon and had to go without taking a shower. Yuck. Plus, I hate going to the dentist. Oh, that scraping noise just about does me in. I just had to keep reminding myself that it was nowhere near as bad as the hysteroscopy.
Now I’m trying valiantly to deal with all of the administrative crap that comes along with changing RE’s. I’m very glad to be moving along in the RE world, but it’s a pain. I’ve got a pile of consents sitting here waiting to be filled out and signed. That’s always fun.
Tomorrow I have to go to a teach visit. Apparently it’s required of everyone cycling at my new RE’s office. I doubt I’ll be “taught” anything. I mean, what else is there to know? I’ll be getting my calendar and prescriptions, though, so I guess that’s worth the trip. I managed to talk my nurse into letting my husband skip the teach visit, though, so at least that’s good.
The real pain in my ass at the moment is trying to arrange the transportation of my husband’s sperm from my old clinic to my new one. It is not an easy process. There are almost as many forms to fill out for that as for the entire IVF procedure. One of them even has to be notarized.
Yesterday, after several phone calls, I finally got approved to bring the sperm over to my new clinic tomorrow. Then I had to call my old clinic. Not exactly something I was looking forward to. I found out that there may or may not be a tank available tomorrow. They’re supposed to be getting one back today, but it’s not guaranteed. I have to call back this afternoon to see if it made it back. I also tried to convince old clinic not to charge me for use of the tank since we’ve paid them a bigillion dollars already. I’m still waiting to hear about that, too. If I can’t manage to finagle my way into using the tank for free, I’ll have to pay $200. That better not happen.
I’ll be glad when all of this administrative crap is over and done with. Can’t we just fast forward to an easy part? I’d take shooting up over this any day.
That Sucked! June 7, 2005
My husband came up with a plan that solved the drug dilemma. He really couldn’t take off a couple of hours from work, and I really didn’t want to head into my appointment sans drugs. We ended up figuring it out so that neither would have to happen.
I went to my appointment an hour early. As soon as I parked the car, I popped a Vicodin and then sat and read until it was time for me to go in. Afterwards, I walked over to the mall which is conveniently located across the street from my RE’s office, had lunch, and spent a couple of hours shopping while the Vicodin wore off. Drugs for me, plus no endangerment of my fellow citizens on the roadways. Win-win.
It’s a damn good thing I was able to take some real drugs. Oh, my goodness, the pain. My RE did the hysteroscopy first, and it was a bitch. I was just cursing up a storm in there, because it was so bad. My RE actually had to stop and wait several times during the procedure because I was hurting so badly. Towards the end of the procedure my RE asked if I wanted to see the screen or if I wanted him to just take the scope out. That was so not a tough choice. GET-IT-OUT. It’s not like I expected my bitch of a cervix to actually cooperate, but it still wasn’t fun.
The good news is that everything looked good. Apparently I have a nice looking ute, no fibroids, polyps, etc. I honestly didn’t expect him to find anything, but it’s nice to know that everything’s how it should be.
Next my RE did a mock transfer. After experiencing the hell that was the hysteroscopy, that seemed like a piece of cake. It took a little while for him to get the catheter up through the curve in my cervix, but it did make it up there.
Then I had an ultrasound. The dildocam was nothing after all of that other stuff. My RE showed me my lovely curved cervix. He was like, “Yes, that is a 90 degree turn.” I told him that he couldn’t say that I hadn’t warned him. My ovaries were then given a once over, and I had 16 antral follicles, 9 on the right and 7 on the left. Pretty darn good for me, so I was happy with that.
I finally got to put my pants back on and went to discuss the plan with my RE. I have to stay on BCPs a week longer than I thought I would due to lab closure. I’ll be on BCPs through 6/29, start Lupron 6/27, have my baseline on 7/6, and start stims on 7/8. He wants to keep me on the long Lupron protocol, because I have a tendency to have a really high E2 come trigger day. I’ll be having my ET done under anesthesia again, too.
So, I survived and actually have a plan now. Thank god it’s over.
The Dreaded Day Is Almost Here June 6, 2005
I really haven’t been looking forward to my hysteroscopy/mock transfer appointment. Hell, I’ve been absolutely dreading it.
It’s not like I don’t have good reason. I think I wouldn’t be worried about it if I didn’t have a bitch of a cervix to contend with. For most people a mock transfer is nothing and a diagnostic hysteroscopy is not too bad. I’m not most people, though. Far from it.
I’m so scared that tomorrow is going to be a repeat of my first transfer. I cannot stand the thought of being in that much pain again. I’ve broken bones before, had to deal with kidney stones for 6 weeks, but I think that transfer takes the cake. Miserable doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m sure my other transfers would have been the same hell if I hadn’t been blessed with the gift of anesthesia.
I guess I just have to hope my new RE knows what he’s doing. I really think he does, and I honestly think I’m in better hands than I was with my previous RE, so I think I might just survive.
I’m having a bit of a drug dilemma, though. I have a few options when it comes to my drug of choice for tomorrow:
1. Have my husband come with me so I can really drug myself up with a hefty dose of Vicodin.
2. Go by myself and take a few Advil.
3. Go by myself and take a lesser dose of Vicodin and hope I don’t wreck the car in the process.
Option 1 would be fine if my husband didn’t have important things going on at work. Unfortunately, he has witness interviews or something of that nature all day tomorrow. He’s offered numerous times to come with me anyway. That’s just the kind of hubby he is, but I really don’t want him to have to miss work for this. Like I told him previously, if it’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt whether he’s there or not.
Option 2 would be fine if I wasn’t cervical freak girl. I’m a tough tomato, though, so it’s still an option to consider. To be honest, the pain during my first transfer wasn’t even helped much by Demerol, so the choice in pain killers may be a moot point anyway.
Option 3 is a bit risky, but I’m still thinking about it. I know how my body reacts to Vicodin, and if I take a low dose then it’s a option worth considering. If I pop one Vicodin right before I walk out the door then it won’t go into full affect until after I get to the RE’s office. I don’t usually even start to feel anything for a good hour, so that might work. I’ll be there for a while, so it should wear off enough by the time I’m done that I’ll be fine to drive home. If not, I can always wait a while before hopping back in the car. It’s not like I get drowsy or really even “drugged” when I take one Vicodin, but I know option 3 probably isn’t the most recommended of options.
I don’t know. Any way I go about it, it’s going to suck. Why does my cervix have to be such a bitch? Can’t I just have a nice cooperative cervix that doesn’t cause me trouble?
All I know is that I’m ready to have tomorrow behind me. So ready.
A Social Butterfly I am Not June 5, 2005
The recruiting season at my husband’s law firm is in full swing, and as a result we’ve been going to a number of social functions. Let me just say that I have not been having the best of times.
I’m so not into going to events with strangers where I have to be a complete faker. Everything’s just so hoity toity, and I am anything but. I have to attempt to participate in conversations on subjects that are of absolutely no interest to me while I have thoughts floating through my mind that I can’t talk about. It’s just really hard to have this huge part of my life that’s invisible to others.
Now, I’m pretty much an open book about all of this IVF stuff. I don’t mind talking about it at all. In fact, I like talking about it. It does me good, but I cannot slip in a comment about shots or egg retrievals while people are talking about legal cases or trips around the world. It’s just so not the time or place. I just feel like a total alien when I go to these law firm events. I just know there’s no one there that can begin to get me. Hell, maybe there is. Maybe there’s another incognito infertile at these events sitting there thinking the same things I am. I guess I’ll never know.
I fare a lot better with people I know, people who I can be myself around. When I’m around people who know about our situation I never have to worry about hearing “So, do you have any kids?” or “What do you do?” I hate having that crap thrown at me, and I hate not being able to answer how I’d really like to. I know I need to suck it up and just focus on making it through these darn social events in one piece. It’s hard to do sometimes, though.
One thing did come out of our busy social weekend. It did distract me every now and then from this IVF stuff. As a result, I forgot to call my OB/GYN’s office on Friday to get my day 3 blood work results. I mean I completely forgot. It’s on my to do list for tomorrow, but I just can’t believe I got so distracted with this social crap that I forgot about my test results. Amazing.
I guess it’s good that I can get my mind off of this stuff every now and then. I just wish there was a better way to go about it.
My Executive Decision June 2, 2005
I’ve decided that this IVF has to work. It just has to. I mean, I’ve paid my dues, right? It should be my fucking turn.
The thing is that I don’t know what the hell’s going to happen if it doesn’t. As much as I’ve tried to think about the available options that don’t include IVF, I just can’t get there. I think I’m one of those people who could keep doing IVF again and again if money was no object. I don’t want to stop until it works.
I know the reality of the situation. I know that this cycle probably won’t work. The odds definitely aren’t in our favor. I know that we will probably have to move on to something else. I’m definitely not trying to escape from reality. I’ve been hit to many times to be able to do that.
But, just can’t it, for once, be our turn? I mean, who do I have to bribe around here to make that happen? As much as I can envision another failed cycle, can’t the universe just give me a break and let the opposite happen?
I don’t even want to think about what lies ahead if this cycle doesn’t work, yet I can’t help it. I know I will survive another failed cycle. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. I also know that we will figure something out. There will be a next step. I don’t know what it will be, but I know we will eventually get there. But, you know what? I don’t want to go through that again. I really, really don’t. So, it just has to work, damn it. You hear me, universe? I mean it.