Is It Possible? October 6, 2004
Is it possible to grieve for a loss and move forward at the same time? I think so. That’s what I’m trying my damnedest to do right now. I think if I were someone on the outside, as opposed to living in my own head, I would wonder if I was in denial about all of this. I’ve kind of wondered that myself. I mean, I really am doing better than I expected. Sure, I still cry and I still hurt, but I feel this amazing resolve inside to keep on keeping on. Every day I feel a little less sad and a whole lot stronger.
I don’t think I’m in denial about this failed IVF. I think that goes back to a couple of things. First, I really tried to be mindful throughout this IVF that it might not work. Of course I hoped so much that it would, but realistically I knew there was a chance that it wouldn’t. Also, I really didn’t think we’d be lucky enough for it to work the first time. I mean, we really aren’t that lucky. Nothing just falls in our laps. Take my husband’s clerkship. This is the third year he’s applied for clerkships. He got a couple of interviews the first year, but nothing came out of them. His perseverance finally paid off this year. Not only did he have 15 judges call him for interviews, but he got hired for the clerkship at the top of his list. Luck doesn’t work for us. Perseverance does.
I guess another force working in all of this is that I’m impatient. I always have been. Waiting is just so damn hard for me. We’ve been trying to conceive for almost 3 years. A lot of that time has been spent just waiting. Waiting for doctor’s appointments, waiting for referrals, waiting to get test results, waiting for surgeries to be scheduled. Waiting, waiting, and more waiting. It’s not like once we got my husband’s diagnosis we could just keep “trying” while we waited. Nope, that wasn’t going to happen. Well, I’m tired of it. I don’t want to take a break for no real reason. It’s just more waiting. It’s not like this FET is happening next week. I think it’s a 6-7 week timetable from the first birth control pill to transfer.
I don’t know why I feel like I have to justify my choices to the world. Why the hell is that? Maybe I’m just thinking out loud to make sure I’m doing the right thing. I know I am. Maybe this is part of my grieving process. Just getting all of this out there.
I do know that I don’t feel the need to wallow. I’m not shutting out my feelings of sadness, but I don’t want to get stuck in a rut. There’s a thread on one of the boards I post on entitled “I’ve got the failed IVF blues … want to join my pity party?” I know the woman that started this thread, and I like her a lot. I’m not poking fun at her need to be a part of that thread. Not at all. Everyone deals with a failed IVF differently, and that’s ok. I just know that being a part of a thread with that mentality is not what will work for me. Maybe I’m stronger than I ever knew, maybe I’m just insane. I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t want to be sad forever. Not over this. I can think of a million worse things than this. I’m thankful that I have a wonderfully supportive husband who is on the same page as I am, I’m thankful that I have three beautiful blasts waiting for me to come back for them, I’m thankful that I’m part of a community of strong, wonderful women, and I’m thankful that I’m able to keep going after my dream. How can I not push on with all of that?
The Day After October 5, 2004
I’m doing ok. I’m not going to pretend like this is a walk in the park. It isn’t. I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t shed a million tears. I have. But, I’m hanging in there.
I think a lot of that has to do with the support I’ve received from my husband. I know that infertility and IVF can do scary things to a marriage, but this loss has brought us closer together. Yesterday afternoon I received this email from my hubby:
I know it’s disappointing to hear this news; believe me, I’m disappointed, too. At least we have a plan, though. It doesn’t hurt as much when I realize that it’s not the end of the road for us. We still have a lot of options, and our chances are still really good. Hang in there! I love you so much, Amanda.
God, I love that man so much. He’s so right. This is not the end for us. We are a couple of bull-headed, determined people. One failure does not mean complete failure.
Last night my husband and I went out to dinner. It was so nice just to sit and talk and relax for a little while. The margarita was nice, too. (Haven’t had one of those in forever.) And you know what else? I think we actually smiled and laughed a little, too. I’m sure we both needed that badly. There haven’t been too many smiles floating around here lately.
I know some people think by moving right into Plan B that I’m not taking enough time to grieve or heal. I actually read a comment about me to that effect on a message board today. It wasn’t a mean comment, just a “I wouldn’t be doing that if I were her” type of comment. That’s fine. You know what? That person isn’t me. What works for me wouldn’t necessarily work for anyone else. I need to focus on being proactive and productive. I don’t want to sit around a throw a month long pity party for myself. I’m not saying that people don’t have the right to be sad, angry, and devastated after a failed IVF. I’ve been all of that and more. However, staying stuck like that will not get me any closer to my goal. I’m going to pick myself up by my bootstraps and march on. This is what I need to do. It’s good for people to take breaks. If I didn’t have the option of a FET, I may be taking a break right now, too. I don’t know. I do know that I’m doing what I think is best for me and my family. My husband supports me in this decision. That’s essential, too. So, I may be sad from time to time. That’s ok, but I am still the determined, stubborn girl that I’ve always been. That’s just not going to change.
I Usually Love Being Right October 4, 2004
But this time I would have loved to have been wrong. It’s official. I just got the call, and my beta was negative.
I woke up this morning and took another pregnancy test, not because I expected to see anything different, but because I wanted that last one gone. Of course it was negative. No surprise there. I then had to take my husband to work so that I could have the car to drive to my RE’s office. My husband drove on the way there, and I had to close my eyes and sing myself a little song about being in a happy place just so I wouldn’t throw up. Let’s just say that riding with my husband into downtown during rush hour is not my idea of a good time. At one point we were driving on part of the highway that had the white diagonal lines down it. Yeah, that means it’s not a lane, dear. Anyway, I survived all of that and went back home to get ready.
I made my way to the RE’s office. I was so dreading that trip. When I got there I handed over my credit card and asked if I could speak to my IVF coordinator after my blood was drawn. After waiting for a while, my IVF coordinator was actually the one that called me back to bring me back to the blood letting room. Of course I had to stop at the scale for the mandatory weigh in. 100 with my clothes on. Yeah, you could say it was a tough weekend.
Then I got to have my date with the phlebotomist. Man, that lady hurts me every time. I have a lovely bruise now. After she was finished drawing my blood, she asked if I was ok since I was shaking. I just said that I was having a bad day.
I then got a chance to talk to my IVF coordinator about everything. As soon as I started talking about it all, the tears started flowing. I got a big hug and continued with all of my questions. I let her know that I was sure of what the beta would show based on the spotting and negative HPTs. I asked if I could start the birth control pills for a FET with this period. She said I could and got me a pack. I also voiced my concerns about my transfer (remember my transfer from hell?). I told her that I would always wonder if that had something to do with why this IVF failed. I know we’ll never know for sure, but it will always haunt me. I asked her if they could dilate my cervix for my transfer for my FET, and she said that’s the only way we could do it. Hopefully that will help with the problems caused by the scar tissue and 90 degree turn in my cervix. I also let her know that I wanted to take Valium and a strong pain killer way ahead of time. She said that was fine, too. I asked if I had to have a follow up appointment with my RE before starting the FET, and she said that it was up to me. I do want to address my concerns with the transfer with my RE, but I really don’t want to have to go back for an appointment anytime soon, so I asked if I could just talk to the RE on the phone about it. My IVF coordinator said that could be arranged as well.
It helps so much to have a plan B. I know some people would never think about figuring out the details of a FET before they even got the beta results back, but this is helpful for me. I don’t want to wait to cycle again. It’s the waiting that kills me. I need to be proactive. Today I really needed to go in there and say, “This is what I want to do and how I want to do it.” I’m glad that my IVF coordinator agreed with everything I wanted to do. She’s fantastic and made today just a little bit easier for me.
So, I’ll be starting birth control pills again on day 3 of this upcoming period. I’ll get my exact protocol a little later, but I know it involves BCPs, Lupron, supplemental estrogen, and of course PIOs. I’m really thankful to have three frozen blasts, and who knows, maybe one of them is THE one.
I know my heart will continue to ache. I don’t expect to feel ok right away, but I do know that this will get a little bit easier every day. One failed IVF will not get me to give up my dream of having a child. Someday, some how, my husband and I will have a child. I don’t know how much more heartbreak we’ll have to endure to get there, but we WILL get there.
Trust Me When I Say It’s Over October 3, 2004
I know a lot of people say, “Just wait until beta” or “You won’t know anything for sure until beta.” That may be true in a lot of cases, but trust me when I say it’s over. It’s so beyond over.
Yesterday afternoon I made another pregnancy test run and got some more FREDs. I took one yesterday afternoon and another this morning. Not a hint or a shadow of a second line on either of them. I mean they were the snow white tests that I’m used to seeing. I definitely can spot a one lined pregnancy test. And if that wasn’t enough, the almost ignorable, barely there spotting of yesterday has turned into dark spotting requiring definite attention. Yeah, I’d say it’s over.
I will go tomorrow morning for my beta if only to make it official. The other purpose of that trip will be to see if I can find out how long I’ll have to wait before jumping into a FET (that’s frozen embryo transfer for you people who stumble upon my blog by googling things like “ballet slippers fets”). Yeah, I don’t know what that means either.
Yesterday was extremely hard, both for me and my husband. I’m grateful that we got to spend the day together, though. It’s so hard to be “normal” when you find out that all of that pain, mentally, physically, financially, was all for nothing. I mean IVF was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done in my life. Each step was harder than the previous. God, it breaks my heart that it didn’t work, but I know that once the little pieces of my heart are picked up off the floor and super glued back into place that I will be a stronger woman for all of this. Oh, but how I wish this had worked.
Yesterday afternoon my husband and I went shopping to try to take our minds off things. We were both too depressed to buy much, though. Although my husband did manage to pick up a pair of $85 Ralph Lauren pants for $10. Bargain shopping is definitely a good thing when you know you’re going to have to shell out another few thousand to have another shot at the whole baby thing.
Life sucks and life isn’t fair and all of that. Really. Yesterday, I was fumbling around one of the IVF message boards that I read, and I went to check in on the under 30 message board that I post on. What did I find? One of my “cycle buddies” had just gotten back from her first ultrasound. Mind you, this particular group of women is made up of all first time IVFers. Anyway, her ultrasound showed twins. Two beautiful beating hearts. All I could think of was, “Shouldn’t that have been me?” I mean, don’t I deserve that as much as anyone else?
I always knew that having this IVF fail was a distinct possibility. I mean, come on, I’ve read enough blogs and message boards to know that this IVF stuff is a bitch. But I really thought we had a great chance at this. I have no fertility problems (that we know of) and my husband has good sperm (as long as they’re surgically removed from his body and used with ICSI). I responded pretty well, and we made great embryos. So much for having “perfect” grade 5 expanded blasts to transfer. Oh, and speaking of transfer, I really think that had something to do with this failure. I mean, couldn’t that have had a serious effect on either the embryos and/or my uterus? I’m sure we’ll never really know why this didn’t work, but we’ll always know how much it sucked.
Oh, and you want to know what else sucks? Having to bear the dreaded PIO injections when you know that your IVF has failed. The only thing that got me through those night after night was the thought of my future baby. Oh, it’s so hard to get stuck when I can no longer think such beautiful thoughts.
So, tomorrow I will wait for the call with the words that I never wanted to hear uttered to me. We will then try to figure out plan B. We know what it is (FET) but don’t know the particulars about when and what protocol, etc.
I just wanted to take a minute to thank everyone for their comments. I cried when I read each and every one of them. I never wanted to be the girl that got the “I’m sorry” comments instead of the “Congratulations” comments, but you know what, I think the “I’m sorry” ones mean a lot more. If I was in the place to receive congratulations right now, I don’t think I would need those comments nearly as much as I needed to read your comments yesterday. Knowing that those comments came from women who have survived this and so much more meant the world to me. Ok, I better stop writing now, because I really need to take a break from the whole crying thing, if only for a couple of minutes. I love you girls. You’re the best.
The Beginning of the End October 2, 2004
After yesterday’s line/no line fiasco, I decided to pick up a different brand of pregnancy tests from the store. I bought the Clearblue Easy digital ones. They seemed to be the answer to my line dilemma. They just show the words “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant.” Perfect. No line reading necessary.
So, on to my next task. Holding it long enough to test. I have to pee constantly thanks to the progesterone, so this was semi agony. I got up to pee at 1am and was then determined not to get up again for several hours. So hard. Anyway, I made it to 7:30 by sheer will power.
I went into the bathroom and assembled the nifty high tech pregnancy test. I was shaking so badly that I could barely keep it in the stream. I set the test on the counter and continued to pee for what seemed like forever. When I was done I peeked over and saw “Not Pregnant.” Not was I was looking for. I wasn’t completely devastated until I got to the toilet paper part of the event. Sure enough, I had started spotting. Fuck.
Then I heard from the bedroom, “So, what did it say?” I told my husband the news that neither of us wanted to hear.
I then went back to the test. Even though it’s a digital test, it still works like a traditional test with the lines. You just don’t see it until you pull the test apart. Well, of course I had to pull the test strip part out of the digital part just to see for myself. What did I see? Oh, yes. I very, very faint second line just like the tests yesterday. I mean it was beyond faint, but it was there.
The only explanation I can fathom from all of this is that I’m experiencing a chemical pregnancy. This would explain the fact that I have just enough HCG in my system to cast a shadow of a second line, but not enough for the damn test to utter that magical “p” word to me. I don’t know if this is what’s happening, but it’s the best that I can come up with.
I mean, seriously, if I were the illusive “p” word, I would have tested positive by now. I’m 11 days past a 5 day transfer. The average beta at this point is around 300. Home pregnancy tests start measuring at 25-50 depending on the test. Yeah, this isn’t looking good.
So, I will test again tomorrow morning and have my beta done Monday morning. To be quite honest, though, all hope is gone in my mind. I know people say that spotting does happen in early pregnancy, but everyone that I’ve heard of spotting right before beta has received a negative come beta day.
I’ve said all along that I wanted to know the results before beta day. I didn’t want some nurse calling me with the dreaded news while I was all alone at home one day. I wanted my husband to be able to wrap his arms around me and comfort me, and that’s exactly what he did today. But let me tell you, it is way too fucking hard to go from thinking pregnancy and baby thoughts one day to this the next day. WAY TOO FUCKING HARD.
I Finally Caved October 1, 2004
And I’m kicking myself for it. I knew I would, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I woke up this morning at 4:30 and decided that it was as good as time as any to test. I peed on the damn stick and waited. I honestly can say that I have no clue of what the results are.
I looked at the window of the test very closely. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, and it was driving me crazy. I saw the control line nice and dark, no problem there, but next to it was a shadow of a line. It wasn’t completely blank, but it wasn’t a definite line either. It was like a shadow of where the line should be. What the fuck? I had no clue what this meant. So, I did what any rational IVF patient would do, I took the damn test apart. I held that strip up to the light and up to a white piece of paper. It was so weird. I just couldn’t tell. Was it an evaporation line? Was it a very, very, very faint line? Was it just where the pee went over the chemical on the strip? Far be it from me to know. I’ve never seen a second line before. I don’t know what the hell they’re supposed to look like.
Of course I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got a whopping 4 hours last night. I showed my husband the dismantled test, and he agreed that it wasn’t blank but it wasn’t like there was a real line either. I decided I needed to retest. I would do a few things differently this time. I would use a HPT that came free in a different box of ovulation predictor kits, so I knew it was from a different batch. I would hold it as long as possible before testing. This is a lot harder than it sounds thanks to the progesterone. I would also do the pee in the cup, dip the stick in the pee method.
So, I made it to 9:15 and took another test. Same damn results. Not a line, not blank. Ugh. So, I will make a Target run later today and buy some more tests. I’m not buying FREDs though, because I’m totally pissed at them. I will retest once again tomorrow morning and hopefully get a more definite result.
Yeah, this is why they tell you not to pee on a stick after an IVF. I’m exactly where I was yesterday, not having a clue about whether this worked or not. Why did I think that finding out whether or not this IVF worked would be a cut and dry thing? Nothing else about this whole process was easy, why should this be?
I Haven’t Caved…Yet September 30, 2004
I’m not feeling so positive about things today. I’ve really been trying to hang in there during this agonizing wait, but today it’s getting to me. The past few days I’ve been thinking, “Hell, this might have worked.” Well, not today.
I’m bloated and crampy today. I’ve been cramping on and off since a few days after my transfer, but this feels different. I know, I know. Progesterone can cause bloating and cramping along with all the lovely “symptoms” I’m experiencing like exhaustion, sore boobs, and the never ending appetite. Why does this progesterone crap have to fuck with my head so much?
I spoke to my husband this afternoon, and he told me to “stay positive.” I replied that what’s done is done, and it doesn’t matter if I’m positive now or not. I can’t help that I feel like crap.
So, I’ll be caving sometime soon. I haven’t quite decided when, but it will definitely be before the weekend is over. I just have to know. I need to know whether to be happy or sad. I feel bipolar right now, and I really need to know which emotion to go with.
Hide the HPTs September 29, 2004
I’m going crazy waiting for my beta. I go back and forth between having to know if this worked to being too nervous to find out. The thing is that I have two home pregnancy tests in the bathroom that are calling my name. I think I might have to have my husband hide them from me. I’ve vowed not to take one until the weekend, but it’s so hard. Sunday night I had a dream that I took one, and it was positive. That makes me want to give in even more. I’m not going to, though. I figure if I wait until Saturday or Sunday I won’t have to second guess the results. That way I’ll be 16 or 17 days past retrieval. Plus I want to be able to spend time with my husband after I find out. I don’t want him rushing out the door to go to work while I’m in bed crying or dancing around the apartment. Either way, I’m sure I’ll need him here. So, I will wait until this weekend. I will, damn it. My head may explode by then, but I’m not testing until the weekend.
Come to think of it, maybe the idea of having my husband hide the HPTs isn’t such a good plan. When he called from work this afternoon he said, “I want to know.” I think it’s getting to him now, too. Shit, we may not make it to this weekend after all.
Oh, and wanna hear another fun PIO story? I know I complain a lot about those damn injections, but it’s one of the only things keeping me distracted these days. Last night my husband hit a vein. He pulled back the syringe after injecting, and it started to fill with blood. He took it out and headed back to the kitchen to get another needle. I stood up and noticed that I was bleeding everywhere. I had blood dripping down my butt and onto my shorts. And then I got the pleasure of getting a second stick. Fun times.
Disappointment September 28, 2004
My IVF coordinator called yesterday with my final cyropreservation report. At the time of transfer we had:
4- expanded grade 5 blasts
1- grade 5 blast
2- grade 4 blasts
1- grade 3 blast
4- 8-celled embryos
We transferred two of the expanded grade 5 blasts. I knew the 8-celled ones were not going to be frozen, but was told that the other six blasts would be. Well, they were only able to freeze three. The grade 4’s and the grade 3 blasts never expanded and started to degenerate.
I’m really thankful that we had three to freeze. I’m actually amazed that we had that many, and if you would have told me we were going to have three grade 5 blasts to freeze when I was in the stimming phase, I would have been flabbergasted. I’m not being ungrateful, but I already “knew” that we had six blasts leftover. Losing half is hard. My disappointment stems not from the fact that we “only” have three, but from the fact that we lost half of what I thought we had.
This also changes our backup plan. I’m all about having a plan B, C, etc. Now instead of both plan B and C being FETs, only B is. I now have to figure out a new plan C. Of course I would love to have this IVF work and not have to worry about the other plans for a while, but we all know that may not happen.
I’ve tried all along to think of the embryos as cells. They are cells, but they’re really, really special cells. I don’t think of them as my children, but as my potential children. It’s just too hard otherwise. It’s the same reason I don’t consider myself the “p” word right now, because it would make it even harder if my beta comes back negative. But, as much as I’ve tried not to, I’ve become attached to these little embryos. The ones that were transferred, as well as the frozen ones that leave me with hope for the future. It’s just impossible not to.
Ants in My Pants September 27, 2004
Well, they weren’t actually in my pants, but we did have an ant episode last night. My husband and I were getting ready for bed, and he headed toward the bedroom walk-in closet to get his comforter. Yes, we’re one of those weird couples that sleeps under different comforters. He threw his on the bed and discovered ants. Immediately that comforter was thrown onto the floor, and we tried to figure out where the darn ants were coming from. There were tons of them in the closet. I guess they came in from outside the apartment and ended up all over the closet. So, instead of settling down to get some sleep, we frantically tried to rid the closet of ants. Hopefully we got rid of most of those suckers. Of course my hubby couldn’t use his comforter, because it had been sprayed with bug killer, so he shared mine. I’m glad to report no one stole the covers last night.
I didn’t blog this weekend, because I was still mad about the whole “invasion of privacy” thing. Sometimes it just gets to me. I thought about shutting down my blog once again after my husband and I determined that there was no real way to fix the Bloglines problem that caused this whole situation. My husband convinced me not to stop blogging. He’s seen how much it has helped me. So, I blog on.
I was all excited that I was going to get to post today about the fact that the PIO injections were getting so much easier. This weekend was a nice reprieve from the soreness and pain. I was still sore, but not so much that it hindered my side sleeping. Also, for the first time, I didn’t bleed after my injection on Saturday night. Amazing. Well, after sleeping on my side last night, I can’t make my “all better” claim anymore. My right side is killing me.
I know I mentioned that I have to sleep on my side. I also have a thing about facing the outside of the bed while I sleep. I’m just a picky sleeper. Since my left side was so sore on Friday, my husband and I switched sides of the bed, so that I could sleep on my right side. This worked well until last night. I’m thinking I might have to switch sides of the beds every night, so that I never have to sleep on the side where I just got my shot. I’d still take the soreness over the suppositories any day, though.
One of our cats is an airhead. She’s a total sweetheart, but there’s not too much going on upstairs. It’s funny to watch her in comparison with one of our other cats who is too smart for his own good. At least two of my three cats sleep with me every night, but switching sides
of the bed with my husband has caused some problems for my airhead kitty. She’s just so confused. I don’t even think she slept with me Friday night. I think she’s got it figured out now, but I can’t even imagine what would happen if I switched sides every night. I don’t think she’d be able to handle that.
Ok. See what happens when I don’t blog all weekend. I can’t shut myself up. One more topic and then I’ll be done. I think.
Progesterone. Not the injections, the actually substance. Oh, it’s been giving me fits. It’s true that there are no reliable “symptoms” one way or another after doing IVF. They’re all drug induced.
Sore boobs- progesterone.
Out of bed to pee 4 times every night- progesterone.
Exhausted- progesterone.
Ravishingly hungry- progesterone.
Cramps- progesterone.
Ugh. I’ve been experiencing all of the above. I’ve been cramping on and off since Friday. I don’t know whether this is a good or bad thing, but I’ve read that it can be caused by, yes, progesterone.
I do have to say that I’m taking advantage of the infamous two week wait as much as possible. Of course I’d rather just fast forward a week, because I’m definitely past the “I don’t want to know” phase. Someone just tell me, already. I don’t consider myself the “p” word during the 2ww, but I’m definitely taking advantage of the situation. For example, I refer to the embryos every now and then. Here’s some of my recent statements:
“The embryos are hungry. I think we need to go out to eat tonight.”
“The embryos are tired. I’m going to take a nap.”
And my all time favorite: “Honey, the embryos really don’t like to watch South Park. Can you change the channel?”
I may not ever get this close to the “p” word again, so I better take advantage while I can.
So, I guess that was two more topics. Oh, well. I’ll shut up now.
Pain in the Ass September 24, 2004
Someone please remind me why I volunteered to use PIO. I still think I made the right choice, but I like to complain. I can’t imagine I would like dealing with the suppositories any better.
The injections themselves have been ok. Especially when I don’t have to give them to myself. I bleed every time, but that’s no biggy. What’s bothering me is the soreness. I haven’t gotten lumps yet, so that’s good, but my hips/ass, whatever you want to call it, are so sore.
I can deal with the soreness just fine during waking hours. What’s a little more pain/discomfort. Bring it on. It’s when bedtime comes that I have a problem. I’m a side sleeper. I absolutely cannot sleep on my stomach or back, but now it hurts to sleep on my side. Last night I got very little sleep. Between the tossing and turning, the fact that I have to get up and pee multiple times thanks to the progesterone, and the fact that my cat likes to sleep on my head these days, I was screwed. I actually ended up on the couch in the wee hours of the morning in an attempt to get at least some sleep.
I guess I did get at least a couple of decent stretches of shut eye last night, because I remember having a dream. It was a baby related dream. My husband and I were shopping for baby stuff. I don’t think I was actually pregnant or had a kid, but nonetheless we were shopping for cute baby stuff for our imaginary baby. The thing is that I haven’t had a baby related dream in a very long time. I’m pretty sure I haven’t had one since my husband was diagnosed with azoospermia. Does this mean my subconscious actually has hope that this IVF will work? I guess so. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high when I’m conscious. I guess my heart will break if this doesn’t work whether I get my hopes up high or not, though.
My husband is finally home from his trip. Well, he’s not home now, he’s at work, but you know what I mean. He got back into town at 1:30 yesterday afternoon but had to work late, so he didn’t get home until 9:30. I was so glad to see him. The past few days have been tough. Plus, I didn’t have to give myself the PIO injection. Bonus. I think we might actually get to go out to dinner tonight. That will be so nice. I haven’t been out of the apartment since my transfer on Tuesday except to take out the trash and check the mail today. I’ve just been trying to recover and take it easy.
So, if anyone has any suggestions about how to deal with the soreness, please send them my way. I’m doing the heat thing, both the vial and my ass, but that doesn’t seem to be cutting it. I probably know the answer to the soreness problem- I’m just going to have to deal with it. Isn’t that always the answer in all of this?
PIOs, Betas, and Blogging September 23, 2004
I gave myself my PIO injection again last night. It went a little better than Monday night. I only had the “normal” amount of bleeding afterwards. I think the fact that I was still bawling away at that point over all of the stress of the past couple of days, and especially the events of last night, that the shot wasn’t anything compared to all of that. I don’t think I’ll make a habit out of giving them to myself, though. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to mention this. I know a lot of people use the PIO that is 50 mg/mL. They also make it in the 100 mg/mL vials. So, for my 50 mg dose, I only have to inject .5 mL(cc) instead of 1 mL(cc). Half the amount of oil with the same amount of progesterone seems the way to go to me. I’m still really sore, but I imagine it would be worse with twice the amount of oil in there.
My beta is scheduled for 10/4. My RE’s office schedules betas for 2 weeks after transfer even if you do a 5 day transfer. Just like the no embryo report between fertilization and transfer policy, I convinced them to bend the rules for me. I got my beta scheduled for that Monday instead of Tuesday. I didn’t think I could convince them to schedule it for the week before. The 4th is fine. Right now I’m in that I don’t want to know phase. I mean I’m too scared to hear the results either way, so I’d just rather not know. I’m sure this will change as the 4th approaches. We’ll see. Oh, and I have a couple of FRED’s stashed away in the bathroom that came free with the ovulation predictor kits that I foolishly used when I thought we could actually get pregnant from sex. I’m sure I’ll break those pregnancy tests out at some point, you know once I get past this not wanting to know phase.
After what transpired last night, I briefly toyed with the idea of shutting down my blog. I felt like my sacred space had been invaded. Before anyone gives me the lecture about my blog being out on the internet where anyone and everyone can read it, I know all of that. I’ve been aware that something like last night could have happened at anytime. I’ve always said that if someone I knew found my blog, they would just have to deal with it, because this is me. I still feel that way, but having it actually happen through me for a loop. Especially since it was my inlaws. It wouldn’t have bothered me nearly as much if it had been my brothers or brother in law. I know my parents wouldn’t find it. They’re not that internet savvy. I knew all along that the people that I would least like to find it would be the ones that were most likely to do so.
At first I was panicked. Then I just decided to write that post. When my FIL commented, I felt touched. My inlaws and I have not always had the best of relationships. When I first started dating their son during the last few weeks of high school, things were not pretty. That summer was beyond ugly. At one point they threatened to call the cops if I didn’t leave their house. It was a really tough time, but my husband and I were meant to be together, and we weren’t going to let anyone stop us. Now, almost 10 years later, I look back at those times and think, “See, I told you we’d make it.” Having my FIL find my blog made me wonder if that tension would come back into my relationship with my inlaws.
After the touched feelings went by, I started to feel pissed. I mean I can totally understand how my FIL found my blog. Apparently it wasn’t that tough. It really bugged me though, that he stayed and read it for 45 minutes. I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to figure out that it’s my blog. Anyone that knows me could figure that out in less than 5 minutes. Whey stay and read on? Of course I was checking out my sitemeter after all of this occurred and noticed that my blog was pulled up from their home computer a little later on. My husband said that maybe his dad was just trying to figure out the whole link business. I hope so. I just trust that they’ll respect my privacy on this one. What else can I do?
Oh, and I know I’ve mentioned my sitemeter in both this post and the previous one. Don’t think that I sit and stalk people coming to my blog. I don’t play “Big Brother” with my blog. I mostly just like to see the google referrals. I don’t get funny ones like a lot of bloggers do, but it amazes me how my blog can be on the first page of so many different searches. I think blogs just index really well on Google. If anything, the bloggers of the blogs that I read probably think that I’m stalking them. I remember when I first started reading infertility blogs, and before I started using bloglines, I would go to all of my bookmarked blogs a million times each day. Maybe not a million, but I definitely helped out with all of their hits per day statistics.
I’m not going to stop blogging. I’m not going to censor myself. This blog and all of you wonderful women who I’ve met through blogging mean so much to me. After I read all of your heartfelt comments last night, I sat and cried. How can all of these women, whom I’ve never met, know exactly what to say? It’s amazing to me that I can receive such unconditional support from all of you. I love my family, and I know they love me, but I haven’t felt that kind of unconditional support from anyone other than my husband. You girls are beyond fabulous. I hope I’ve been half as good a friend to you guys as you have to me.
Spent September 22, 2004
I know I need to move past what happened yesterday, but I can’t. I’m just so pissed that the torture that I experienced could have been prevented if I had just had a mock transfer. When I had my IVF consult I asked whether or not my RE’s office does mock transfers and was told that they didn’t, because there was no way to simulate the exact conditions that would be present on the day of transfer. Sure, my bladder may have been at a different level of fullness, but undoubtedly they would have been able to tell that my cervix had a 90 degree turn in it and was full of scar tissue. Ugh.
I’m not sure if I was clear in my last post, but the majority of the problems with my transfer came from the fact that my RE couldn’t get the catheter(s) past the scar tissue. Once it miraculously got past that point (after over an hour of trying), the curve didn’t seem to cause nearly as much of a problem.
My post from yesterday was also contradictory. I said that I was glad to have 6 blasts to freeze, but that I “was done.” I am extremely thankful to have some in the freezer, but I just don’t know when or if I’ll be able to go through all of that again. Throughout this process I hoped to have extra embryos to freeze, so that I wouldn’t have to go through the stimming and retrieval phases again. Now I realize that’s not what I should have been worried about. Even with a frozen transfer, they still have to transfer them. That’s where the dilemma lies. I’d probably have to have surgery to remove that scar tissue before I could attempt another transfer.
My husband keeps telling me to stay strong and that this one will work so there will be no need to worry about the other stuff for a while. I’m just so spent right now, both physically and emotionally, that I’m having trouble believing all of that.
What’s making this even harder is that I’m alone. My husband left for work this morning and won’t be home until tomorrow night. He has to go out of town for a hearing. All of this timing sucks. He was out of town following my retrieval and now will be following my transfer. I know he would be here if he could, but it’s still hard. Not only do I have to give myself my PIO injection tonight, I could really use him here for the emotional support.
Oh, and can I throw a mother-in-law vent out there, too? My husband wrote a post for our family blog about my transfer. He didn’t go into the details about my cervix, but he made it obvious that it was an extremely painful and long process for me. My MIL’s comment included the sentence, “Nothing is ever easy!!!” Give me a freaking break. Like she has a clue how hard this has been for me. I know for a fact that my husband was an oops baby, and his brother that is 13 years younger is probably one, too. Like they had any trouble in the reproductive department. Spare me.
Now, that I’ve gotten that all out, I’m going to try to cheer up a bit. At least a teeny bit. I need to let that strong, determined woman that has survived all of the crap to get to this point come back out and kick this weepy, whiney woman’s ass.
I Thought That Was Supposed to be the Easy Part September 21, 2004
I had my transfer this afternoon. I’ve read in many books and heard from people on message boards and from bloggers that the embryo transfer is a piece of cake. It’s supposed to be easy, painless, and fast. I guess my body didn’t get that memo. Mine was a nightmare.
We got to my RE’s office early, and they took us back right away. After the getting through the requisite paperwork stuff and getting into my fancy getup of gown, hat, and booties, they brought us into the transfer room. Things went from uncomfortable to down right unbearable pretty quickly. Apparently I have a 90 degree turn in my cervix. Plus, I have scar tissue right before the turn. My RE kept trying different catheters with no success. She then had to use a cervical clamp to try to straighten things out a bit. By that point I was in so much pain that I was crying. To put the pain in perspective, I had a very painful HSG, but this was at least 10 times worse than that.
My RE decided not to continue under those circumstance, so they brought me back to the recovery room and gave me a IM shot of Demerol. I then had to wait 45 minutes for the Demerol to take effect. I was a space cadet once the Demerol and Valium were both working.
They brought me back into the transfer room and tried again. It wasn’t quite as bad as the first time, but they were still trying all kinds of different catheters and using that damn cervical clamp. This continued for quite some time. Finally at one point my RE said that we might have to freeze all of our embryos and schedule me for surgery to remove the scar tissue. As soon as she said that, the words NO, NO, NO flew out of my mouth. I so didn’t want that to happen. By that point, she had been trying to get that catheter up through my cervix for over an hour. Finally, just before everyone gave up, that catheter managed to squeeze by the scar tissue and up through the curve. My 2 blasts were finally transferred. My RE said my transfer was by far the most difficult she had ever experienced.
The good news is that we have 6 more blasts that will be frozen. Our embryo report from today was as follows (grade 5 being best):
4 expanded blasts grade 5
1 blast grade 5
2 blasts grade 4
1 blast grade 3
4 8 celled embryos
The 8 celled ones have most likely stopped growing, so they won’t be cryopreserved. We transferred 2 of the grade 5 expanded blasts and froze the other 6 blastocysts. It such a relief to have some frozen in case this one doesn’t work.
I was super paranoid after the transfer. I don’t know if it was the drugs or the stress of it all. I kept worrying that the embryos didn’t really make it inside my uterus because of all of the switching of catheters. I don’t remember how many times the catheter containing the embryos was inserted, but I was so worried that they fell out at the wrong time.
So, I guess I’m officially in the two week wait, and I am so relieved. Enough of this crap. I’m done. I sure as hell hope this works. I really don’t know if I could do it all again.
Finally- The Day 3 Report September 20, 2004
I got a call from my favorite nurse this morning. She said that I didn’t receive my day 3 report yesterday, because the embryologist didn’t return my IVF coordinator’s phone call. She had my report for me this morning, so all is forgiven. As of yesterday we had (grade 5 being the highest):
7- 8 celled grade 5’s
3- 8 celled grade 4’s
2- 4 celled grade 4’s
I’m so relieved that our embryos are fighters. Hopefully they’ll continue to grow, and we’ll have a couple of good quality blasts to transfer tomorrow. Heck, we may even get lucky and have a couple to freeze. That would be fantastic. I just hope at least 2 hang in there.
Last night was my third PIO injection. They suck. My husband thinks he hit a bone last night. I had a nurse mark X’s in the correct places, and that’s where he’s been doing them, but I’m still a little worried. I’m little and am concerned that there’s just not enough muscle that high up for that big 1.5 inch needle. I guess I’ll ask about it tomorrow.
I’m a little nervous about transfer tomorrow. Not about the procedure itself. I’ve heard that it’s not bad at all, plus I get to take a Valium. At least one of the drugs they have you take in all of this is fun. I digress. Anyway, I’m worried about how our embyros will do once they’re in my uterus. They’re doing so well right now, that I don’t want to be the one that kills them off. I know this is not a logical thought process. I know that the best place for them is in my uterus. I know that they’re either going to make it or not, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just feel like it’s such a huge responsibility to house those little embryos. I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll chill out some once I get a taste of that Valium.
Not a Happy Camper September 19, 2004
I was supposed to get my day 3 report today, and my IVF coordinator assured me that a message would be left for me on the message system by 5:00. It’s now 6:00 and no message. I’ve been anxiously awaiting that news all day, but it looks like I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out how our embryos are faring.
I guess I should be assured by the fact that no one actually called here. I’m assuming that if all of our embryos but a few had died out by now, then my transfer would have been today. It just makes me mad that they told me to expect a report, but no one bothered to give me one. It’s very disappointing.
The past few days have been rough. At every step of this IVF, I’ve thought, “Well, I’m sure it won’t get worse than this” or “I’m sure that I won’t feel any worse than I do now,” and every time I’ve been wrong. I’ve just been so bloated and sore from my retrieval. Add the fun of the PIO injections, and I’m pathetic. Today seems to be a little better, though, so at least that’s good.
Another thing that I’ll get to start complaining about soon is my knees. Yes, I know, I’m a champion complainer. Anyway, I have a condition called chondromalacia patella in both of my knees. In a nutshell, it’s when the cartilage behind the kneecaps degenerates. In my case, this is compliments of my 18 years of dancing (ballet). I was diagnosed in college after the pain got so bad that I couldn’t walk across campus without ending up in tears. It’s an extremely painful condition. The only things that have helped me are quitting ballet, taking glucosamine chondroitin, and keeping my leg muscles strong so that it doesn’t worsen. Unfortunately glucosamine chondroitin has not been tested to see whether it’s safe for use during pregnancy. I talked to my RE about it, and she recommended that I stop taking it before transfer if I was worried about its effects. I’m not about to risk taking it, so I took my last pill on Friday night. Any day now I should start having a lot of pain in my knees. It’s not going to be pretty, but if by some chance this IVF actually works I would not feel comfortable having it in my system. I told my husband this morning that we should order me up a wheelchair. Of course I was joking, but not by much.
Hopefully I’ll be in a much better mood tomorrow morning. I really, really hope our embryos are toughing it out.
The Phone Call September 17, 2004
My phone rang this morning and after I looked at the Caller ID, I immediately got nervous. It was my RE’s office. This was it, the very important fertilization report. It was my IVF coordinator, and the first thing she said to me was, “I have good news.” I replied with a hopeful, “ok.” She said that of the 13 eggs that they retrieved yesterday, all 13 were mature, and 12 fertilized normally with ICSI.
After we talked about a few other things, I hung up the phone and cried. Tears of relief, tears of surprise, tears of hope. This news was beyond my wildest expectations. I was so worried about the fertilization, but I guess those surgically removed sperm did the trick after all.
So, we will do a 5 day transfer on Tuesday at 1:30 pm. My RE’s office normally doesn’t give out info about how the embryos are doing between the fertilization report and the report before transfer. Yesterday I asked if I could get more info than that and was told that I could get a report on day 3, so I’ll get to find out how our embryos are doing on Sunday. It’s so weird to write and hear in my head “our embryos.” Oh my god, we have embryos. Considering the fact that my husband’s sperm has never exited his body other than through surgery, this is amazing to me. I know that this IVF may not work, but we made embryos. Wow.
I decided to stay home last night. I was in too much pain to deal with a long car ride along bumpy highways. I’m feeling a little better today. I’m still sore, but I can at least move without wincing.
Sometimes all of this just seems unreal, like it’s a dream or something (or nightmare, depending on how you look at it). I’m just going along step by step, but it’s so big. This technology is so awesome, and I’m so very thankful for it.
Tonight I get to start my PIO injections. That should be fun. I hope my hubby can handle those big needles.
Lucky 13 September 16, 2004
I survived my egg retrieval this morning. They retrieved 13 eggs. The procedure itself wasn’t bad thanks to the awesome drugs that were running through my veins, but I’m pretty sore now. Why don’t they just let you take that IV home with you? I could sure use another hit right about now. The instructions that I received afterwards say to take Tylenol for pain. Tylenol sucks. It really doesn’t cut it, but I’m tough, so it’s ok.
We got to my RE’s office a little before 8:00 this morning. They do their retrievals onsite in their own special little retrieval suite. We sat around for a while and then I was finally called back. I got to change into a lovely getup consisting of a gown, booties, and fashionable hat. I chatted with my IVF coordinator a bit, asked a few questions, and made sure that they knew that we wanted my husband’s sperm refrozen after they used it for ICSI. We only have 2 vials from the MESA procedure performed during my hubby’s surgery, and I’m not about to make my husband go through all of that again.
Then the anesthesiologist came in and started my IV. He had a little mishap with my vein, and I proceeded to bleed all over myself, the sheets, and the floor. Once all of that was cleaned up, I was led into the retrieval room. I got to lay down and put my legs up in some lovely leg stirrups. Then I got hit with the drugs. They burned a bit going in, and then I was out. The next thing I knew, I was back in the recovery room.
Of course I immediately asked how many eggs they had gotten. My IVF coordinator said 5 but that they weren’t finished going through them. She came back and said that they had retrieved 13. Much better. I laid there for a little bit and then got up, got dressed, and peed. I was then wheeled out of there and was on my way home.
I was feeling really good afterwards, so we decided to stop at Best Buy on the way home to get my present, The Sims 2. I’ve wanted this game ever since it was announced, and it just so happens that today was the release date. It should come in handy during the dreaded two week wait. My husband ran in and bought the game and then we proceeded home.
I was still feeling pretty good when we got home and then the drugs wore off. Oh, my. My husband set me up in bed with some nourishment, beverages, and the trusty laptop. He then left for work, and I took a nap.
We should find out sometime tomorrow afternoon how many of my eggs were mature and how many of those fertilized. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about that. I’m really worried about the fertilization rate, since we’re using frozen epididymal sperm. I just don’t know if it will fertilize as well as regular old fresh sperm. I guess we’ll see.
I still haven’t decided if I’m going with my husband tonight. I can either stay here tonight or I can endure a multi hour car ride so that I’m not alone. I don’t know.
Thanks to everyone who left comments or sent me emails with sweet and generous well wishes. You girls rock.
The Eye of the Hurricane September 15, 2004
That’s what it feels like right now. I’ve been through so much to get to this point, but I know that there’s still so much to go through. Right now I’m just waiting. It feels weird not to do anything IVF related today. No needles to inject, no pills to pop, just the anticipation of what’s to come.
I triggered last night at 8:30. Actually it was more like 8:38, but I doubt that makes a huge difference. It’s so ironic, because all along I’ve been anal about having my injections done at the exact same time every day even though they really didn’t have to be that precise. But the one night where the timing really matters, and I get distracted with something else. I looked down at my watch last night and it was 8:35. I yelled at my husband, and we both flew into the kitchen. It was a good thing that I triggered with the Ovidrel prefilled syringes, because it only took us a few minutes to pop those suckers into my stomach. It’s funny now, but at the time I was freaking just a tad.
So, now I just sit and wait and try to ignore the fact that my ovaries are killing me. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes well tomorrow. All I have to say is that there better be at least a few eggs in there.
What a Relief September 14, 2004
Guess what? I’M TRIGGERING TONIGHT! I can’t believe it. It seems like it’s taken absolutely forever to get to this point. To think that I took my first birth control pill for this IVF over 6 weeks ago, and now we’re finally at this point. Unbelievable.
My lining was at 12mm this morning, and here’s how my follicles measured:
Right: 23, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 10
Left: 20, 20, 19, 19, 16, 16, 13, 9
So, I get to trigger tonight at 8:30 for retrieval at 8:30 on Thursday morning. I really didn’t know if I was going to get to this point. After my appointment today, I stood and cried while I waited for the elevator. I cried even more when I called my husband to relay the news. I wasn’t sad. I just felt a tremendous sense of relief. I know that this IVF may not work, but I’m just so glad that I get a shot at it.
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