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Risk vs. Reward March 31, 2010

When we first found out that IVF was the only way we would even have a chance of conceiving a biological child, I was ready to sign up in a heartbeat. Do you think I fretted over the risks spelled out in the consent forms? Heck no. You see, it didn’t matter to me then what the risks were. I would have done anything.

I didn’t think of egg retrievals as surgeries with actual risks. I didn’t think of meds as having real, lasting side effects. I didn’t think about all of the things that could go wrong. I just wanted a baby, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get one.

I’m sure I’m not the only one. No one wants to read the fine print and think that it might happen to them. We all just want the happy ending.

Even after I had done multiple cycles and faced multiple setbacks, emotionally and physically, I was not going to stop. Pour more drugs into my body. Put me through more, and more, and more. I did not care. The potential reward was worth every single risk to me at that point.

Things are different now. I have my little man. And you know what? I really should have thought about the risks more going into this cycle. No, I’m not blaming myself for what happened, but I should have taken those blinders off this time around.

I guess it’s human nature to think that we’re not going to land in the x% of whatever bad stat applies to any given situation. I had no risk factors for an ectopic pregnancy going into this cycle. I’d never had one before. My tubes have always been fine. I’ve never had female factor infertility of any sort. My only risk factor was doing IVF itself.

I landed on the bad side of the odds, but that happens. I think sometimes we forget that it happens or just hope it will happen to someone else. IVF can be risky business, but the potential reward makes us overlook that sometimes.

I don’t think I ever truly took the risks of IVF seriously before last weekend. I couldn’t let myself really think about them before. To me, having a baby was always more important than wondering if IVF meds would leave a lasting effect on my body for years to come or worrying about whether something life threatening would come of a cycle. I needed to not think about that, because I had to keep going.

Well, now I do not. I can think about it all now. And if I really think about it, I know now that the risk is not worth it for me personally anymore. Sunday was the closest I’ve ever been to dying. I do not want to go back there anytime soon.

Obviously I could never have predicted what happened to me this cycle. I do regret cycling again, but I obviously can’t undo any of it. I can just be thankful now that I’m ok. I can be thankful and enjoy the reward I’ve already got, my little man. He’s just too precious to me to risk going through this hell again.

The Long Version, Episode II March 29, 2010

I woke up yesterday morning, and I hurt. It didn’t really surprise me. While I had not really been in pain the past few days, I was feeling the presence of the ectopic. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I could tell it was there. That combined with my high beta from Friday, and well, I knew that there was a chance that things weren’t going well in there.

After I got out of bed yesterday, I told Dan that I needed to go to the doctor. I wanted to take a shower before we left, but Dan insisted that we just go, the smart guy that he is. Dan also wasn’t about to let me drive myself anywhere at that point, so we loaded up Adam in the car and headed for my RE’s office.

I’m so thankful this happened in the morning when I knew my RE would be in the office for cycle monitoring. Any other time on the weekend, and I would have had to go to the ER.

It takes about 30 minutes to drive to my RE’s office without traffic, and my pain was getting worse along the way. At one point I told Dan that if I passed out that he was to take me straight to the ER instead of to the office.

We got to my RE’s office, and my nurse was one of the one’s working yesterday. I told her I needed an ultrasound, and she knew why. By that point I was hurting badly.

My RE did my ultrasound, and the gestational sac in my tube had grown. There appeared to be a yolk sac, too, and it looked like my tube was starting to rupture. So, surgery it was.

I went back out to the waiting room while I waited for the hospital to be notified. Dan and Adam had gone downstairs to get breakfast by that point, and I stupidly went down to tell them after I couldn’t get Dan on his cell phone. I needed to kiss Dan and hug Adam, but damn, by the time I made it back upstairs to my RE’s office, I was in bad shape.

I signed some consents and was wheeled over to the hospital. Dan and Adam had to go over and register me.

My nurse got me to the OR, and that is where the fun really began. I was in so much pain by that point. And then I had to pee in a cup for, get this, a pregnancy test, but I filled the cup with blood before I could pee in it. Yeah, it was bad.

The completely sucky part was that because 1) I wasn’t in the hospital system yet, and 2) I had not spoken to the anesthesiologist, no one could give me any pain meds. I laid on the bed in the OR prep room crying and begging for the nurses to give me something, anything, but they could not. It was pure agony.

I was alone again, because Adam certainly didn’t need to see me like that. It’s hard to hurt like that without anyone there to comfort you.

The torture continued when one of the nurses tried to start my IV in the vein in the inside of my wrist, right near the bony part. I don’t know why she picked that location, but she quickly collapsed my vein which hurt like hell. She finally got one started in my elbow pit (what? I’m the only one that calls that the elbow pit?) and then it was fine.

Finally the anesthesiologist came on the scene and after answering questions and signing consents, I was given some Demerol. Thank freaking goodness. I still hurt, but at least I could breathe.

Then I got to go back to the OR, and it didn’t take long before I was out. My RE performed the surgery, and it went well. He removed the ectopic and my right tube laparoscopically.

I recovered a little while in the hospital and then was allowed to go home. Thankfully the pain from the ectopic was gone after it was gone, but the post surgical pain hasn’t been fun either. At least now I’ve got some pain meds.

Needless to say, yesterday was a shitty day. In many ways, though, I feel lucky. Mostly, I just feel lucky that I survived it. Ectopics are scary stuff.

I feel lucky that it started to rupture when it did. There was a very small window of time that my RE was at the office yesterday. Thankfully I got to go straight there, and have an ultrasound done ASAP. My RE was the one who did the surgery, and that made me feel better, too. No ER nightmare. No random doctor who didn’t know me or trust me.

I’m lucky that it happened this week, because both my parents and Dan’s parents were free and planning to come over to Houston anyway. My parents came over yesterday afternoon and will be back tomorrow. Dan’s parents are here today and are staying a while to help out.

Obviously one never plans this kind of thing, but the timing really did work out.

I’m just glad it’s over now (knock on wood.) I really felt like a ticking time bomb this week, and I was. It’s a scary feeling.

In addition to the pain, I’m dealing with some emotional stuff. It’s weird to go from wanting an embryo to stick around for nine months to wanting it out of you stat. That same embryo that could have made a baby if it had implanted in the correct place could have killed me yesterday.

It’s also a weird feeling to be missing a piece of you. I honestly have no need for that tube from this point on, but it’s still strange to know that it’s not there anymore.

I’ll get through it all, though. I have no doubt. I really am doing ok given the circumstances. My body will heal (although I’m not sure my cute belly button will ever be the same). I’ll be out of pain one of these days. And my heart will heal, too. Maybe not immediately, but it will.

Because while this situation ended in a nightmare instead of a miracle, I’ve already got one of those at home. And even though he inadvertently jumps on my “bo-bos,” he’s the reason I can smile through my tears.

Bullet Points Again March 28, 2010

Once again, bullet points are the best I can do today.

Woke up this morning to really bad pain on my right side.
Packed up everyone in car and headed to RE’s office. (Thank goodness for weekend monitoring.)
Ultrasound revealed ectopic beginning to rupture.
Sent straight to OR.
Pain excruciating at this point.
RE removed ectopic along with right tube.
Back home now.

Details later once I’ve recovered a bit.

Still Going Up March 26, 2010

First of all, thank you. Thank you. A million times, thank you. What would I do without my internet friends?

I had another beta done today. It came back at 5719, up from Monday’s pre Methotrexate beta of 2448. It’s normal for it to go up before it goes down. However, my RE’s office didn’t really want it to go up this much.

I go back Monday morning for another beta. It should definitely be going down by then if the Methotrexate is doing what it’s supposed to do.

I’ve been told two things: 1) watch carefully for any increase in pain this weekend and 2) leave Monday afternoon open. If I experience any bad pain or feel that things aren’t right I’m to go to the ER. If that ends up being necessary, I will be going to the ER where my RE has privileges. I have to leave Monday afternoon free in case a second dose of Methotrexate is needed.

Part of me is wishing I had just done the surgery on Monday. At least it would be over by now. I don’t like this “at risk” feeling.

I’m really hoping for an uneventful weekend. That would be a nice change of pace.

The Long Version March 24, 2010

I sat down to write a post earlier today, and the words failed me. That doesn’t happen too often.

I haven’t cried since I left my RE’s office on Monday morning. I think I got all of my tears out between there and the ER the previous day. Mostly I’m just pissed. Really pissed.

I’m mad about how things went down at the ER. I just wanted a freaking ultrasound so I could tell whether I was in physical danger or not. I know places like that have policies for a reason, but I was not in a mood for policies.

They made me have a catheter to receive a damn ultrasound. I was in enough pain, and let me tell you that that did not help one bit. We all know that at 5.5 weeks a transvaginal ultrasound is the only way to go. Yet, the only way I was going to get one of those was to let them manually fill up my bladder in order to have an abdominal one first. I had to have an IV before I could get an ultrasound, too.

Man, I just wish it had all happened on a week day so I could have just waltzed in to my RE’s office for a five minute ultrasound. Instead I spent six freaking hours in the ER.

I was there alone because I insisted that Dan stay home and get Adam dinner and to bed. So, I ended up with no one to go find someone when I had been left laying there for an endless amount of time without an update.

In the end, one of my RE’s and the OB on call for the hospital were eventually, and I mean eventually, contacted. My RE wouldn’t authorize any treatment without having seen the ultrasound herself. Understood. The OB on call wouldn’t do anything because “since it was an IVF pregnancy things could just still be early.”

Um, there was no sac present in my uterus. My HCG was 2150 when taken at the hospital. There should have been one at that point regardless of my dates and regardless of my method of conception. And there was something seen in my right tube. Um, hello.

So, I was sent home with a prescription for four Vicodin. That’s it.

I was scared. I was sad. I felt alone. Sunday night was a long night.

My main RE saw me first thing Monday morning, and we went straight to the ultrasound. There was a sac in my right tube. Possibly something in my uterus, too, but doubtful and definitely non viable. My RE looked at my tube and said, “this is what we should see in the uterus.”

I was given two options: methotrexate or surgery. I didn’t know what to do. How does one choose between two evils? My RE recommended the methotrexate given my specific circumstances, and in the end I decided to go that way.

Little did I know that my clinic doesn’t have it on site, and I had to wait a good while for a specific pharmacy to open and go pick it up myself before going back to the clinic to have someone administer it. By that point I was fried, and it was too much. I did it, of course, but it just sucked.

And I think I took the brunt of my frustration out on the check out lady who attempted to charge me an additional $20 shot administration fee. I said through my tears, “Yay! I get to pay an extra $20 to have someone end my pregnancy.” I didn’t get charged the extra.

So after I finally got my methotrexate shots, I got to go home. Thankfully Dan was able to work from home Monday and Tuesday, because I felt like shit. Who knew that a drug they use for cancer patients could make you feel badly?

Now I’m just waiting for the wrath. I really hope the meds are doing the trick, because I do not want to have to go through a second dose of it.

I wanted this to work out, but now I just want it over. That’s the thing, though. It won’t be for a while. Even if the first dose works, I’m going to be going in for betas for goodness knows how long. I have to go in on Friday and again on Monday and then weekly until it’s negative.

And I do not want to even think about what’s in store for my body. I’ve already started bleeding, but I know the worst is yet to come.

So yeah, I’m mad. I’m mad it turned out this way. Why do I have to go through all of this shit? A negative would have been plenty. Plenty.

24 Hours of Hell March 22, 2010

I am way too exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally to write a real post today. So, bullet points it is. I promise I’ll come back and post the long version (and believe me, there is a long version) soon.

excruciating lower abdomen and back pain on right side yesterday
6 hours of torture in ER
diagnosis: suspected ectopic
treatment: see RE first thing in AM
did so
u/s by RE confirmed ectopic
methotrexate given

It seems so simple typed out that way, but the past 24 hours were so far from.

Still in the Game March 20, 2010

I’ve been feeling pretty symptomatic, for lack of a better term, so I thought there was a chance that today’s beta could have gone up from Tuesday’s. The question was how much.

Today’s magic doubling number was 1192, maybe even a touch less since today’s beta was done 1.5 hours earlier than Tuesday’s. Beta came back at 1539.

I still don’t know what to think. I told myself that I’d feel better if today’s number was at least 1500, and indeed it is. I still just don’t know, though.

Is there really a chance this could work out? I mean, really? Anyone got a spare crystal ball they could loan me?

I’m 5w3d today, and I feel like I’m at a very precarious point right now. I’ve had two previous pregnancies make it to ultrasound stage. One was obviously Adam. The other stopped progressing right around this point. A gestational sac and yolk sac formed, but it never got to the fetal pole/heartbeat point.

Maybe just based on that experience or maybe just because of my low start this time around, I’m feeling like we’re at the make it or break it stage right now. We know my numbers are doing ok as of this moment. But what about tomorrow or the next day?

Yes, I am going to drive myself mad thinking this way. As much as I’d love to be the happy go lucky pregnant lady, I can’t. Not yet anyway.

I’ve got an ultrasound scheduled for Thursday. That will tell us so much more. Numbers are important, but they are not everything. My beautifully doubling beta ended in miscarriage. My never actually doubling beta resulted in Adam.

I’ll feel so much better if we can actually see something. Maybe I should be more specific. I’ll feel so much better if we can actually see the right somethings.

So, five more days. Five.

I know I haven’t said it yet this cycle, but I have thought it every day. Thank you. The support I’ve received through comments and emails means the world to me. I’m usually not a comment whore, but I’ve been refreshing like mad after my recent posts, because every word helps.

It’s amazing to me that some of the same people who commented during my first IVF cycle 5.5 years ago are still here following along. And it’s equally amazing to me that people new to my blog take the time and effort to jump in and comment.

I don’t know how this is going to turn out. As much as we’d all like to hope for a happy ending, no one really knows. But I do know that the support of this crazy little world called the IF community is going to help me navigate through whichever turn this ride takes.

My Luck Comes in Pairs March 19, 2010

It seems like the good news and bad news in my life lately is partnering up. Last we left, my diamond earring took a trip down the drain, but my beta took a nice rise upwards.

I was determined to retrieve that earring and turn that bad news into good, and I did. After unsuccessfully trying this interesting method of sucking something out of a drain, I decided I would just take the darn pipes apart. Adam was all for that project. However, it turns out that the builder of our house decided to glue our t-trap (the curved piece of pipe where things tend to collect) instead of using bolts to fasten it, so I could not even attempt to dismantle it.

Even though my earrings are insured, I figured the insurance company wasn’t going to pay to replace one if it could be retrieved, so I bit the bullet and called a plumber. One afternoon of waiting for him to show and $75 later, I’m the proud owner of an earring I already owned. (He ended up totally cutting the pipe and then replacing it.)

So, with that bad news turned good, it was only a matter of time before something else happened. Sure enough, I chipped my crown. Talk about great timing. I have no clue if this pregnancy is going to work out, but I’m not about to subject my body to x-rays and goodness knows what kind of meds to have dental work done.

I called the dentist’s office and got to have one of those awkward “I’m kinda pregnant” chats so they would know what was up. This whole low beta experience thing is weird enough without having to go and tell someone I’m pregnant.

Anyway, I went in this morning and got my crown smoothed down. That should hold things for the time being. Fun times.

So, your guess is as good as mine as to whether tomorrow’s beta will fall in the good news or bad news column. I’m sure there will be something that will go along with it that will be the opposite, though.

What a Day March 16, 2010

Today did not start off well. One of my diamond studs decided to take a hop, skip, and a jump from my hand, across the countertop, and into the bathroom sink. It was one of those slow motion “nooooo” moments. Down the drain my pretty earring went.

I pulled out the stopper, and it was nowhere in sight. I searched the house to find a flashlight that had not been disassembled by Adam, not a small feat, and still couldn’t see it. At that point I did not have time to take apart the pipes, so in the sink my earring stayed.

What? You mean you didn’t come here to read about lost diamonds today? Ok, I’m getting to it.

I was nervous that my bad morning would lead to a bad afternoon. My clinic has been calling around 12:30 on beta days, but my phone laid silent. I figured that wasn’t a good sign.

When it finally rang my IVF coordinator said, “Well, your beta should have been 160 today if it was still doubling. What do you think it was?” Ahh, I don’t know. Just tell me, lady!

Beta was 296. I’m still in shock as I type that. 296. I honestly do not know what to think about that. I can’t wrap my brain around it.

My P4 was over 40 on Friday, so they didn’t check that again. E2 has to be 300 to wean off of patches, and mine was 253 today, so they want me to come back Saturday for another E2 check.

And you know what? They didn’t even schedule me for another beta since it rose so much. Oh, you better believe that I asked for another one, though. If I’m going to have to make the trip in for an E2 check, there’s no way I’m leaving without another beta.

Oh, and get this. They already scheduled me for an ultrasound next week. WTF? Let’s just take things one step at a time, shall we.

So, that’s where things stand. I am seriously struggling to process this information. I will admit that there’s part of me that wants to say “YAY!” However, the other part, the part that has been through this stuff way too many times, is saying “hold on there, mister.”

You know what scares me? The fact that the more the numbers climb the further I get from chemical territory and the closer I get to miscarriage territory. I am terrified of going through that again, and I know that despite today’s great jump, there is a good chance that’s where I’ll end up.

I’d already mentally closed the door on this cycle when I got the 14. I don’t know how to open it again. I don’t know if I can.

So, I guess I’ll just be holding on until Saturday. That and trying to get my damn earring out of the pipes.

Living Out of a Suitcase March 15, 2010

You know how when you go on a short trip a lot of times it’s just easier to pull things out of your bag as needed instead of completely unpacking? That’s where I am right now.

I packed up my unused meds and syringes as well as my sharps and had them all ready to go when I went in for beta #1. I didn’t end up bringing them with me after I got my super faint positive HPT that morning. Those bags have sat all packed up in my kitchen ever since.

Every time I need a med or a syringe, I just go dig one out of the appropriate bag. It doesn’t feel right unloading them all. Surely my stay will be short enough that it’s just easier to leave them packed.

I don’t know what tomorrow’s beta will bring. I do know that it won’t be negative, though. I peed on another stick this morning, and it was positive. No more faint line positive, a real “there’s definitely a good line there” positive.

So, I’m assuming based on the fact that this morning’s HPT was significantly darker than the one three days ago, that my beta did not stall out at 40. The question is how much has it risen. And more importantly, is it going to continue to do so.

I wish I knew. I don’t really feel all that pregnant, and deep down I feel that there’s no possible way that this is going to work out. It’s just too much of a stretch, ya know. I guess all I do know for sure is that I’m not unpacking.

Still on the Roller Coaster March 12, 2010

Don’t let anyone ever tell you that IVF isn’t the biggest freaking roller coaster ride ever. I’ve never experienced anything with so many ups and downs, twists and turns, that’s for sure.

This morning I got up and peed on another stick. Dan’s out of town right now, and if it came back negative there was no way I was going to do my own PIO shot for nothing. Yep, I’ve done them by myself before, even in a restaurant bathroom once, but it’s not exactly something I enjoy doing.

I got another damn faint line. It was impossible to tell if this faint line was darker or lighter than Wednesday’s faint line. I guess that’s the nature of the faint line, huh? Since it wasn’t negative I figured I better go ahead and shoot up, and I dutifully plunged a long ass needle into my poor lump ridden hip.

Today’s beta was 40. Now before anyone goes jumping up and down for the more than doubling from Wednesday’s 14.9, let’s just be realistic here. Yes, it’s rising, but all chemicals rise before they fall. Even my measly 7 rose to 21 in two days before it plummeted.

My very first positive beta came during IVF #2. It was a 46 at 16 days past retrieval. That’s exactly where I am right now. Did that one work out? Nope. Will this one? Most probably not.

I know some people would be encouraged by this, but I just see it as delaying the inevitable. More shot torture, more beta torture. Yes, I would love this to be a miracle, but most likely it’s just going to be more of the same hell.

I go back on Tuesday for beta #3. You think there’s any chance I can just not think about this until then? Yeah, I don’t think so either.

Things Just Can’t Be Simple March 10, 2010

Yesterday I was D-O-N-E with this cycle. I was holding it together ok until my little brother called and told me that he and his wife are expecting #2, and she’s “not even ready for another one.” It took every ounce of restraint I had to maintain my composure for the rest of the conversation, and when I hung up, the deep down tears found me. After that, I had just had enough of all of this.

I packed up three bags before I went to bed: one with leftover meds to donate to other patients, one with a vast collection of unused syringes saved throughout my eight cycles, and a bag of sharps. I was all ready to bring them in, get my beta done, and close the door.

I didn’t even do my shots last night. (Obviously this comes with the “do not try this at home” disclaimer.) I knew this cycle was in the tank, and I just could not see putting myself through another night of torture for nothing.

This morning I woke up and peed on the last HPT I had bought. It wasn’t like I was ever going to have a need for it again, so I thought I might as well use it up. Result: faint line. Fuck! That’s literally what I said.

Yes, most people are happy when they see two lines. I knew better. I knew what having a negative at 12 days past retrieval and then a faint line at 14dpr means especially with my history of chemicals. It definitely deserved an expletive or two (or three).

So, I unpacked some Lovenox and PIO and shot up just in case. I was mad when I did it, but I knew I had to. And then I headed off to beta.

When I started this cycle I asked the universe for one favor, that if this cycle was not going to end with a real live baby in my arms that I just wanted a negative. No chemical/miscarriage torture. Just an uncomplicated negative.

Yes, negative betas suck so much, but they are not complex. You stop your meds and that’s it. No repeat betas, no meaningless med torture. Just “the end.”

I guess the universe didn’t get the memo, because today’s beta was 14.9. I knew it was going to be under 25, and it was. Fuckers.

No, this is not going to go anywhere good. Shall we review my past positive betas?

IVF #2: 46 on day 16 = chemical
IVF #3: 124 on day 14 = miscarriage
IVF #4: 7 on day 14 = chemical
FET #3: 153 on day 14 = Adam

So, yeah if I were some super duper lucky IVF newbie a 14.9 on day 14 might get me somewhere. Being that I’m a loss ladened vet, well you know as well as I do where this is going.

I have to go back on Friday to see which way the numbers decide to move. There’s a good chance the universe will torture me with upward motion before things go south just so this can drag out as long as possible. Let’s just all hope that’s not the case, though. This is hard enough without that.

The Pee Sticks Have Spoken March 8, 2010

I woke up in the middle of the night thanks to the PIO’s effect on my bladder and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured it was as good as time as any to break out the pee sticks. I wasn’t hopeful since my body was not sending me any signals this weekend. I knew that was a bad sign, and it was. Two brands of HPTs were completely negative.

I’m 7dp5dt. It’s not too early. If there was something viable going on those tests would have been positive. Been there, done that, on both sides of the coin.

I crawled back into bed but sleep alluded me. I cried, not the heart shattering cry that I let loose during the cycles we were trying for Adam, but more for what could have been. I wanted this, but it was not to be.

I told Dan this morning, and then I told him how mad I was that we went through all of this for nothing. It was a hard cycle for me. He said, “Yes, but we had to try.” He’s right. We did.

Adam got some extra snuggles when he got up this morning. I felt myself tearing up again while I held him in my arms, but those tears were not for this negative. No, they were tears of thankfulness. I thought about how close we came to not having him. I know how lucky we are that he’s here. He truly is our little miracle.

I’ll go in Wednesday morning for beta to make it official. The thought of two more nights of PIO torture for nothing is not appealing, but that’s just how it is.

I am sad. It’s never easy to get a negative. It’s not easy to see your life take a different path than you would have chosen. Seeing those results hurt this morning, but they also reminded me how truly, truly lucky I am.

The Worst of the Wait March 5, 2010

I’m sure different people find different parts of the infamous two week wait to be most torturous. For some, it’s the wait for the fertilization report. For others, it’s the wait to see what makes it to transfer. I know for a lot it’s beta day itself. And there are no doubt people that fall everywhere in between.

For me the worst is right now. The wait to find out how our embryos are faring in the lab is always nerve wracking, but I’m oddly comforted by the fact that they are sitting in a dish. It’s nice to have someone peek in on them and tell you how they’re doing.

The few days following transfer really aren’t too bad for me. It feels nice to have made it past the transfer hurdle, and just dealing with possibility at that point is a welcome change for me. Since we’ll never be able to conceive without IVF, the only times things feel remotely possible are when I’ve got embryos in there.

Beta day isn’t necessarily the worst for me, because by that point I usually have a pretty good idea of at least whether things will be positive or negative. (There was that one cycle that I had a beta of 7 which threw me off, but usually I walk into beta day with at least an inkling of whether I’ll be getting a good phone call or a bad one.)

I know pee stick day is a nerve wracking one, and it always has been for me. But it’s still not the worst, because I’ve gotten to the point where I have a pretty good idea about those, too. I knew on Adam’s cycle that I’d be getting positive tests. I could just tell by that point.

So, it’s today, day 9 where things get really tough for me. This is the day where actual pregnancy symptoms have started creeping up for me in the past. It’s the day where I really start going crazy trying to analyze every twinge. I swear, I almost yelled at myself today, “Amanda, stop poking your boobs! They’re going to get sore whether or not you’ve got HCG floating around in your system if you poke them enough.” Yeah, like I said, crazy.

At least the torture is contained to my mind. My bladder is doing much better today. Thank goodness for drugs. Of course, my stomach and hips are not quite as happy with the Lovenox and PIO as my bladder is with the antibiotics, but I’ll take what I can get.

I’m really glad it’s almost the weekend. I think it will be easier to distract myself from the insanity. Well, at least a little.

The Fun Never Ends March 4, 2010

I woke up this morning with what appears to be a raging bladder infection. Oh, the pain! It didn’t start getting completely unbearable until Dan had already left for work, so the best I could think to do was pop a couple of Tylenol, drink a bunch of water, and leave a message for my nurse.

I rocked in pain while trying to get Adam breakfast while praying the phone would ring. I called back twice, and finally got ahold of my nurse. She wanted me to come into the office for a UA.

By that point I did not have enough time to drive across the city (literally) and back before Adam needed lunch. So, we made arrangements for me to go to a closer lab. It was the only way I was going to get a Rx called out, so Adam and I hopped in the car.

I drove to the lab that I have been to numerous times, the last not that long ago, only to find out that they had moved. Shit! I was in agony and could only find out from some passerby that they had moved “somewhere near Wal-Mart.” Great.

I called Dan so he could look it up for me, but he was in a meeting. Thankfully he has a nice secretary who Googled the new lab location for me. After rummaging through the car to find the GPS (which Adam loves to play with) we finally found the new lab.

Ugh. What a nightmare. I picked up my antibiotic on the way home, and popped one before even hitting the driveway. Not a fun morning.

I’m assuming this came as a result of being catheterized post ET. I just want to feel better. At least I’m not in tears right now. That’s an improvement.

I’m getting this sinking feeling that I may need to get a t-shirt that reads “I did an IVF cycle and all I got was a bladder infection” when all is said and done. Joy, joy.

Don’t Remind Me March 3, 2010

My clinic just called to let me know that our other two embryos didn’t make it to freeze. Um, duh. They were multi celled on day 5, and one was already starting to degenerate. It’s not like they were going to magically transform into high quality blasts on day 6. Then she also reminded me that we used our last vial of sperm this cycle. Yep, I was aware of that, too.

I know she was just doing her job, but the fact that, for the first time, we literally have nothing in the deep freeze has already been on my mind. There are no more embryos. No more sperm. This is it.

When we were cycling before to get Adam, there wasn’t a two week wait that went by that I didn’t devote at least one post to the infamous Plan B. I had to have one. That’s the only way I could get through a cycle, to know that we had some sort of back up plan in the works. We weren’t going to quit until we got our baby, so I had to know what the next step was.

Things are obviously very different now. There is no Plan B. There is no next step. Either this cycle is going to work, and we’ll have another child, or it won’t and Adam will be an only. The finality of that is weighing on me.

I went back and read through the posts of the two week waits of my last few cycles today. Boy, it’s a crazy time. I’ll admit that I’m already going a little nuts.

There are two things that make this 2ww different, the fact that this is a one shot deal and the fact that we already have Adam. Both change how I’m dealing with the wait.

I’m halfway through right now. Beta is in seven days. Pee sticks will be unveiled in five. I’ll probably have a good idea even before then. I’ve gotten pretty good at being able to tell.

So, it’s really not that long, and despite the reminders I’m trying not to focus on the empty freezer situation. We knew going into this cycle that this would be it. And we will be ok however it plays out. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed it goes the way we hope.

Embryos On Board March 1, 2010

Two of our embryos made it to blast. One was an advanced blast, the other an early blast. The advanced one was rated 3BB (highest being 4AA) which is ok, but is lower than anything we’ve transferred before. They don’t rate early blasts.

The other three were just multi celled, but we went ahead and threw one of those back, too, since we could transfer three. Obviously nothing will come from that one, though.

Transfer itself went smoothly which is welcome news to this wonky cervixed gal. I got some more yummy IV drugs, so all in all, it wasn’t a bad day.

Beta’s on the 10th. Any bets on me staying sane until then?