Wednesday, August 31, 2011


I laughed today.  I don't even remember in what context, but I laughed. It surprised me at how easily it came.  I was ashamed of myself for a fleeting moment, but then I let it go.  I don't need to wallow. I can mourn and live at the same time.

I couldn't sleep last night because I took medicine for the cramps that have been off the charts.  While the medicine takes the pain away it leaves me too jittery to sleep (I know, I'm strange).  So it was me, my sleeping husband, my snoring cat and my despair.  What if this never happens?  What if our embryos are just as poor of quality?  How will I live through this again?  What if we just stop? Should we stop? That's when my chest heaves and I can't breathe.

We can't stop.  Not yet.  Only time will tell if we are delusional or not.  I know some people think I'm crazy for wanting to go through this again, but I'd be willing to bet none of those have had infertility.  Look at Celine Dion who recently conceived twins on not her 4th, 5th, but 6th cycle of IVF.  Dr. Sher, who is one of the leading infertility doctors in the country said, "Statistically speaking, a woman under 40 years of age, using her own eggs, having selected a good IVF program is likely to have a better than 70% chance of having a baby within three completed attempts."  

The only people I knew personally who went through IVF were successful on their first attempts.  Now I know people who weren't successful until the 4th, 5th and 6th.  I hate it, I really do.  The thought of the stress and angst can be overwhelming, but again what choice do I have if I want my own child?  I'm not ashamed to say that adopting is not my first choice.  It's far from off the table, in fact I have an attorney on retainer (thanks, Daddy), but I do want to try for my own, and I can.  

Maybe that's the difference.  Maybe having a doctor that still believes that I can get pregnant, that wants to try something new, that is even willing to call other RE's and do some research makes a difference.  It could be my husband cheering me on.  It could be my parents and in-laws who've been so supportive and want me to try again.  It could be God whispering 'don't give up'.  

I cried a lot today, too.  I cried when people told me they were sorry.  I cried when one of my co-workers hugged me.  I cried when people just asked how I was doing.  I enjoyed working, though.  I enjoyed working with students.  I'm  not gonna lie, I stuck with mostly college planning and hopeful things, but I loved hearing the excitement and enthusiasm in my students' voices.   Everything was going swell until a student asked me if I was going to have kids after looking at a picture of my husband and I.  It took my breath away for a moment.  You think, 'oh sweet child, if you only knew'.  I looked at the picture she was looking at and I said, "Yeah, I think so."

Peace, Love and Thinking so,

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Picking up the Pieces

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Yesterday was hard, and today isn't exactly easy, but it's progress.  The hole in my chest is definitely still there.  The little reminders such as my med calendar, a prescription bottle, a wandering consent form still bring tears to my eyes.  I didn't go to work today.  I can't face my job, yet.  Yesterday the only thing I could do was breathe, so I didn't think I was ready to be counseling others.

I'm still suffering.  I locked the door to the woulda/shoulda/coulda been nursery.  I know what it looks like. I know what I want it to look like.  I don't need to go in there to be reminded of my failures.  When I am ready to work on it, I'll unlock it, but for now it's time to lock it down and move past. I just gotta let go a little bit.

I wonder when I'm going to be okay, again?  I'm not asking for great; okay will suffice. I wonder when my body will decide to expel my dead babies.  I wonder if "ass-hole" couple conceived. I wonder when we'll be able to try again.  I wonder when I'll be able to go out again.  I wonder when I'll be able to answer, 'How are you doing?' without breaking down.  I wonder when my husband and I will be content again. I wonder how many people think I'm absolutely crazy for not giving up.  I wonder why I still care about what people think.

Today, I've scoured the internet for a success story that matches my own. I cried when I thought there would be yet another family vacation without a baby.  Not just a baby, my baby.  My dream of having a child before I was 30 is officially gone *POOF*.  I laugh that just 16 months ago, I thought I was buying the last box of tampons I would need for a really long time. I bought the single pregnancy test, because I was sure that is all I would ever need.  I want to go back in time and shake that young woman.  I want to warn her.  I want her to not want so badly...I kinda want to kill her, but I guess she's already dead.

Then, I realized I needed to stop.

So here it is.

I ask for the strength to endure your plan for me.
I ask for help accepting my future be what it may.
I ask for mercy.
I ask for forgiveness for being so conceited as to think I had any control.
I'm done with self-imposed deadlines and ultimatums.
I'm ready to hand over the controls.
In Jesus' name, Amen.

I really mean it this time.  I'm just gonna coast for a bit.  I'm gonna accept my family for what it is.  My husband, my parents, my brother, my siblings-in-law, my niece, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my goofy cats Lucifer and Gaius, our beautiful puppy Emma Grace, and, of course, our friends.

But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna fight the battle.  BJ, myself and our little angel army are gonna keep our appointment with Dr. D in week.  We're going to let him do the research this time and he's planning on doing plenty.  I'm gonna let him do the worrying for me for a while.  I'm going to concentrate on being as healthy as I can. No alcohol, no caffeine (not even a chocolate chip), no artificial sweeteners.  Lots of water, protein, dairy and royal jelly.  Royal jelly is nasty, but it helps the queen bee lay thousands upon thousands of eggs and live up to 6 years while the rest of the worker bees live only 2 months.  It's thought to help egg and embryo quality in humans, so I'm gonna suck it up and swallow 2 dreadful teaspoonfuls a day.  It's not an herb, so according to Dr. D it falls in the "can't hurt, might help" category. I can exercise again.  I can catch up on chores. I need to go shopping to find something nice to put my precious babies' pictures in.

And so for the next week or so, that is all I can do, so that is what I'm gonna do.

Peace, love, and enduring hope,
Mary Katherine

Monday, August 29, 2011

And the sun sets...

"I guess I really am infertile" ~Tamara Blaich

"Well, your test result is negative."

Just 6 words is all it takes to bring your world crashing down, smash your heart to pieces, and bring worse pain than any endometrial biopsy or endometriosis ever could.  I can honestly say I never thought I'd be here.  Although, I never thought I'd have trouble having a baby to begin with, so I guess it's a given.

I've just gone through the granddaddy of all fertility treatments and failed.  This must put me in a new category of elite infertile.  It's not like I fizzled out and failed.  I crashed and burned.  I have nothing to fall back on, no frozen embryos.  I've almost killed as many babies as the Atlanta Child Killer. I've lost 17.  I'm no closer to being a mother than I was 18 months ago.  So what now?

Now, you just cry.  You try to get it together long enough to ask the doctor a few questions, but then you can't remember what you asked or what was even said.  You clutch your chest as if that will hold the pieces of your heart together.  You bawl when your mother packs up your medicine and needles because it really is over.  You offer your husband a freebie divorce, again.  You wait for your period/miscarriage to start, again.  You pray you survive it's wrath, again.  But mostly you just breathe.

It's a chore right now, breathing.  I have to concentrate to pull enough air in because it feels like someone is sitting on my chest.  I have to think about taking one breath at a time.  I'm not bawling when I'm focused on breathing. So that is what I do, just breathe.  Despite the struggle and stopped-up nose, I'm a successful breather, and that is something.

You can't distract yourself with television.  There's a Pampers ad, a Tampax ad, a First Response ad, and even a Plan B ad as if you'd ever be so fortunate to have an unplanned pregnancy.  All reminders about how everybody else can have what they want or hell, don't want, and you can't.  You, ma'am, you are different. You must wait because it is still not your turn.

You can't walk because the children in your neighborhood are playing and laughing and you'll just have a panic attack.  You can't have a drink because that is something you can do differently this time.  You can't go shopping because someone is pushing a stroller, patting their pregnant belly, and holding their screaming child's hand.  You can't go out because you look and feel like hell.  You can't call anyone because you can't complete a sentence.

Your mother longs for you to get over this hurdle because she has a sneaky suspicion you knew all along anyway.  Your husband wants desperately for you to be happy again.  You just want to live through the minute, hour and possibly even the week.  Your doctor wants you to take some time.  As if 16 months is not enough time.  What do I do with this time?  Think about how hard my life has become?  Think about how many of my teenage students will get pregnant this school year?  Think about all the abused children out there? Pray to a God I'm not sure is listening?

That's not fair...He is listening.  I'm pretty sure He's the only thing keeping me going at this point.

For now we mourn that which will never be.  Those two clumps of beautiful potential.  The only children I've ever had the honor of carrying if even for such a short time.

We love you and can't wait to meet you on the other side.
So I move forward.  I keep breathing.  I understand that I have an army of 17 little angels who will all be behind their mommy and daddy for the rest of their time.  I have a husband who wants to fight this with me a little more.  I have breath, therefore I have hope.

"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey." ~Kenji Miyazawa

Mary Katherine

Friday, August 26, 2011

The sun keeps coming up.

No matter how bad I feel.  No matter how sad I am.  No matter how many times I cry in a single day.  The sun keeps coming up.  We need rain.  Seriously, the grass is crunchy, the pool keeps evaporating faster than normal, the puppy is too hot and miserable to take walks outside, yet the sun continues to shine.  The sun is a stubborn beast of a star.

I had another blood test at the fertility center yesterday.  In just three attempts they were able to get enough blood to assess my progesterone levels.  They must have been great b/c they didn't call to tell me to change my meds.  This is excellent news in the sense that I'm perfectly capable of carrying a pregnancy with a little hormonal support.  Although, there is a cost to this "support."  The occasional misfire of the needle can leave you with a bloody mess.
Sorry if it's too gruesome for you! This is only the 2nd time, but I hit another vein and it is a little disconcerting.
I'm going to have to start drawing X's on my butt on the bad spots. Won't that be sexy!
Dr. D's medical assistant was awesome.  She told me that Dr. D has never had a patient my age that he has given up on and she couldn't think of one that didn't go on to have a baby.  She asked Dr. D to take time out of his schedule to talk to me.

I don't know that I will get bad news on Tuesday (the day of my blood pregnancy test) for sure at all. However, I need to know what (if any) contingency plan there is.  Afterall, the frozen embryo transfer is out the window because my poor little ones were unable to make it to the blast stage.  I can't be stuck with horrendous news and not have something to look forward to.  That just won't work for me.  I can't be crazy with devastation and not have a lighted path to walk on.

Anyway, Dr. D, graciously gave up some of his time to talk to me.  He immediately reiterated, "I've done transfers that I was positive were going to be a complete waste of time.  You're embryos were not in that category."  He went on, "If, IF, we have to do it again, we have some different things to try. I feel confident that you can carry a pregnancy, we may have to look into some different options, but you can get pregnant.  Going to donor eggs at this point would be taking the easy way out with you, and I'm not ready to do that."  He went on to describe a few options which I'm not going to get into in this blog, because it's a bit premature.

It made me feel better.  Fertility clinics are (SHOULD be if they have any credibility) big on reporting their statistics, and IF this doesn't work, I hated to think I was going to be one of those patients that the clinic gets scared of. According to Dr. D and his nurse, I'm far from that category.  Is it sad that I'm starting to love these people?

I felt a little better, and trucked it to work where I cried when the secretary asked me how it went.  I cried when the new assistant principal who struggled with infertility asked me how it went.  I cried when my boss asked me what I was willing to go through to have a child.  I cried when I was in my office alone.  My co-counselors were amazing.  They didn't ask as per my request.  They treated me as normal as they could considering I'm a walking time-bomb.  All-in-all, it still went much better than I thought it was going to go.

Today was better, I only cried once before our in-service started.  I did kind of brush off one person I wasn't expecting to be a blog-reader who told me her heart was going out to me.  I was caught off guard and I didn't want to start bawling, so I nodded and sat down.  After a few more speakers I was able to go back to her and tell her I appreciated her concern and apologized for walking off without tearing up.  She completely understood.

Then I got home, played with my beautiful puppy, Emma Grace, got a little acknowledgement from one of my cats while doing some chores, and then got on my computer to check some blogs I've been following.  That is where I found this blog post on my blog's dashboard.  I was moved to tears to say the least.  People like the Slocums are why the sun keeps coming up.  They give BJ and I a reason to act somewhat normal, attend social events, and remember that we aren't lepers even though I feel like I am.  Thank you guys so much!  I cannot convey  in words how much your friendship has meant to us, or how fortunate we are to have people like you in our lives!

So the sun came up today and although I was dizzy, queasy, crampy and tired, it's been a blessed day.

Peace, Love, & Friends,

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

What can you do?

"The greatest oak was once just a little nut who held its ground." ~Author Unknown

What do you do when you are barely 3 days past a 5 day embryo transfer and you wake up at 5am with pain and bleeding? You scream.  Fortunately for my neighbors, I'm still too hoarse to scream so not a sound came out of my mouth but a faint strain. Then I got it together and called the emergency line at my fertility clinic.  I woke up my RE's poor partner.  He asked me if I was using Endometrin. I said yes.  Well, that is what is causing it.  Apparently it can be really irritating to the cervix and cause the cervical cells to ooze blood.  LOVELY!  Then you feel really stupid and email your doctor's nurse and ask if there is anything you can do for the pain.  Most people can't feel their cervix, but not so with me.  Mine HURTS.

This morning my nurse emailed me back and said to switch to progesterone shots twice a day.  GLADLY!  This Endometrin stuff is not for the faint of heart.  It's a nasty little pessary that kinda looks like a yeast infection treatment and is extremely messy.  'Snot fun.  So yes, I'll gladly switch back to two-a-day progesterone in oil shots with a 1.5 inch needle and large bore, thank you very much.

So aside from having a near death experience this morning, I'm doing ok.  I'm getting over the cold or whatever it was that made me so hoarse for so long.  I'm starting to feel a little queasy especially when my stomach is empty with all the hormones I'm pumped up on.  It's that kind of nausea where you feel like you might throw up, but it's not worth the energy to go to the bathroom and lean over the toilet.  I seriously have enough hormones in my body right now to support a man through a pregnancy.  The Promtetrium makes me a little dizzy even while lying down. I'll be supine and feel like I'm on a boat. My boobs hurt if you look at them too hard.  I'm achy from not doing anything. This all sounds good, right?  Except that it's all just potentially side effects from the hormones...but just maybe!

Mentally, well it's still a toss up between hope and fear.  Really though, what is hope?  If you weren't afraid of anything, then you wouldn't need hope.  Hope and fear go hand in hand and I have tons of  both.  I'm scared for my little ones. I'm scared about my genetics.  I'm scared of my results on Tuesday.  People keep asking me if this is the longest week ever, and you'd think it would be.  It's not.  It's going way too fast.  I'm pregnant until proven otherwise and Tuesday is the day we find out if it is the otherwise.

Until then, I carry on being the best a little bit pregnant mommy I can be.  Tomorrow I have my blood drawn to check my progesterone levels, then I head back to the real world.  I'm glad to have something to do, but I know I'm going to cry every time someone asks how it went.  I can't help myself.

I think people misinterpret my tears with hopelessness.  No, it's just fear and disappointment.  I totally believe in my two little fighters.  I, however, haven't totally wrapped my mind about how my other little embryo babies did not make it.  Again, no one was expecting this, so how could BJ and I expect to understand why or not be concerned?  We are grateful that we had 2 to transfer and praying for their continued development. [You got this, babies!  Just keep going! I love you!]

I was doing a little research last night, and read where they compare infertility patients second to cancer patients in fighting for a cure. It made me realize that I'm not crazy for feeling like I'm in a fight for my life, because I am.  It may not be my literal life, fortunately, but it is the life that I wanted and expected.  It's a fight for my dreams. It's a fight for my children's lives that just aren't quite here yet.  Why else would I stab myself with needles, spend hours exposed in stirrups, endure painful procedures, and subject myself to the worst emotional pain I've ever had again and again?

Because I so very much love the children I don't have in my arms just yet. Because I believe in my dreams, in my husband, and in my doctors.  Not trying is dying, and I'm not ready to let my dreams die.

Peace, Love, and implanting embryos,

Monday, August 22, 2011

I don't know why.

"Hope is the companion of power, and mother of success; for who so hopes strongly has within him the gift of miracles." ~ Samuel Smiles

I don't know why I have to go down this path.  I know God has a plan for me and obviously is confident I can handle it.  Again, it's not a matter of wishing this were easier, or that I was someone else.  I'm just me.  Perfectly imperfect and blessed to have the resources to give it all we can medically, scientifically, spiritually and otherwise.  I can either choose to not try, or continue doing everything I can do to make my family happen.  All I know is there is nothing I want more than to be miserably pregnant, waking up in the middle of the night to the sounds of hungry babies, and to be cleaning up poo and vomit.  I know if I wasn't meant to be somebody's mother, there is no way I could love two balls of cells as much as I do right now.

As predicted, none of the remaining eleven were able to be frozen.  It was hard news to take but I know they fought and tried because none of them had completely arrested, but they just couldn't quite make it to the blastocyst stage, and, therefore, were not able to be frozen. My poor embryo babies, mommy thought about you every moment and is so proud of you for doing the best  you could.  Things happen for a reason, and I take comfort knowing they were well taken care of.  Susan, the embryologist, gave them until 4:30 staying beyond her normal hours to give them every spare moment she could.  Love you, babies!

Susan called me late this afternoon and said she was very sorry.  She did say that I did have the two very best transferred and told me to remain confident that they are in the best possible place they could be.  They were good looking morulas even if they were a bit behind. I asked her what they looked like on day 3. She said all the remaining embryos were still looking good at that point.  She went on to say that we had options, still, but she did not want to go into them at this point because there was still a chance I could be pregnant.  The odds may be a little lower, but it is still possible.

I know she is right.  I've scoured the internet looking for decent research.  The conclusion is they don't know why this happens.  If we have to go another round (IF, I've got two precious ones on board and Mommy and Daddy are fighting hard so I know they are, too) it could all go wonderfully even without any changes.  I've found plenty of stories where 5 day morulas have become beautiful, perfectly healthy babies. Some have even become twins.   Someone recently even got pregnant from two embryos that were only at day 3 development on day 5.  If it can happen for them, there's no reason to think it can't happen for me.

Even though I got bad (ok, devastating) news, the fact that the 11 were still going today tells me that I'm sure the two that were implanted are still going strong because they are where they should be.  There is every reason in the world to have hope.  And BJ and I do.  We are very hopeful and feel if there are any two morulas that can become beautiful babies, then we got 'em.

Please keep praying for my two babies.

Peace, love, prayers and implantation,
Mary Katherine

~To my 15 wee ones~

"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death" ~Robert Fulghum

May God welcome you home.  You were strong and brave and so very much loved.

Always with you,
Mommy and Daddy

Sunday, August 21, 2011

It Just Got Real

If you haven't read the previous post, I'd recommend reading that before continuing.

I'm known for being an emotional man. I cried at my wedding rehearsal, much to the horror of my wife and mother-in-law and the surprise of the gathered family and friends. I cried at the final episode of Lost. I cried watching Marley and Me (but honestly, who didn't??).

But only once, before today, have I cried since this whole journey began. I forget what the context was (after one of the failed IUIs, I think), but MK was really upset and I might have allowed myself a tear or so in front of her. I waited until I was alone that I let the rest out. I never wanted to cry in front of her. I needed to be strong for her.

Today, it got real. This might not work. When they told us that none of the embryos may be frozen, it hit me. We weren't expecting this. Not at all. All of them? Why? How? It was a wave of emotion when I saw the disappointment in MK's face.

I held it in through the procedure. I saw the picture of the two proto-babies they were inserting and said a silent prayer.

It was when we got to the recovery room and we were left alone is when I looked down at MK and couldn't hold it any more.

I always said that I wouldn't be upset until we were out of options and the Doc would finally say "That's it. We're done." It's when we were done with all the natural/science options is when I would be upset. Until then, there's options. There's hope.

Now, knowing that there's a chance that those embryos might not make it to freezing, it got real. I am hurting for those dozen or so almost-babies. I'm hurting for MK. She's been a real trooper through all this.

So just the two of us. We cried together for the first time. After a minute or two, I realized that there's still hope. There's two bundle of cells that might become the next little baby (or babies) Roberts. As long as there's hope...

I believe in miracles. I have to.

"We must try not to sink beneath our anguish...but battle on." JK Rowling

Well, that did not go as planned at all...

I went in for my transfer this morning.  First they took a progesterone level and then took me back to the same prep room they use for the egg retrieval.  No drugs or IV's involved, all I needed was a full bladder (UGH).  It was the normal drill of "disrobe from the waist down and someone will be with you shortly."  This time the someone was supposed to be the embryologist.

A few minutes later, the embryologist, the nurse, and Dr. D came back to the prep/recovery area.  RED FLAG! Susan, the embryologist, told us that our babies were progressing slowly.  There was also some fragmentation.  Out of the 13 embryos remaining the two best looked like they were 4 day morulas instead of 5 day blastocysts.  She did not think any of the 11 remaining would make it to freeze, but she was going to give them an extra day change their fluids and do as much as she could for them.

This is a Day 4 Morula. (image from

These are my precious babies on day 5.  We could really use a miracle, right now. On the right one at about 2 o'clock you can see where Susan performed assisted hatching on the outer layer to help them that much more.  

A Day 5 blastocyst which is where my babies were expected to be. (image from

I tried to be brave and hold it together, but it is really disheartening.  They hugged me and told me not to lose hope, and I haven't, but it still feels like I've been shot through the heart.  I could be losing all 17 of my babies. That is just dreadful to think about.  It is such a strange place to be.  I never expected this and certainly was not prepared for this blow.  Embryo quality did not seem like it was going to be an issue for us.  Our issues were sperm morphology and low hormone levels in myself. Nobody warned us that this could be a real possibility.

It's so bizarre to be in this situation of hope through despair.  I've got to be the best possible mom-to-be to my premature wee ones, but also balance the reality that their odds are diminished.  It's really hard.  I want to scream and cry and have a fit, but I can't.  I want to be elated that I have two of the most beautiful living beings right where they need to be, but I can't.  

Dr. D told us, "It's not what we want to see, but we've seen uglier embryos go on to create some cute babies." I guess he's implying that my embryos are ugly.  I asked him if he'd transferred lower quality embryos and he told me he's done some where he thought the transfer was a complete waste of time and they ended up with twins.  He said not to lose hope.  I haven't, but I'm certainly not in the state of mind that I was hoping to be in for the next 9 days.  Susan also told me that I was a much better incubator than they could recreate in the lab.  So here's hoping.

We signed yet another consent to have both of those transferred and had to be told that the chance of miscarriage, stillborn, and maternal death all increase for multiple pregnancies.  That will just have to be Dr. B's problem if I'm so fortunate.  With a blanket wrapped around my waste and BJ at my side, I followed Dr. D, Susan and the nurse to the operating room.  The procedure was not bad at all.  I barely felt anything but pressure from having a full bladder.  I could see on the ultrasound screen where my two babies were deposited. My progesterone level was great and you could see I had a nice cushy lining for them to snuggle in to if they can hang on for a bit. Hopefully they'll stick around for a while. 

The worst part of the procedure is not being able to pee.  They want you to remain reclining for 20 more minutes.  They rolled me back in to the recovery area on the stretcher and closed the curtain.  That is when BJ and I both broke down for the first time at the same time since this whole process of trying to conceive began. It was an awful 5 minutes, but we realize as potential first time parents, we have a job to do.  I have to take care of the babies I have now and a blubbering jag is not going to help.  

The time creeped by but, eventually, they let me pee.  I got dressed, and BJ drove us home.  I don't think BJ or I said three words to each other in the car.  All you could feel, however, is the strength we have as a couple.  I love BJ so much.  I know we will survive this come what may, I just wish I could give him the family he wants.  

If this cycle doesn't work, Dr. D told us that this did not mean we'd have to use donor eggs or sperm.  If we do have to do another cycle, then, we have every reason to expect things to go well.  He said he would tweak a few things to help ensure my embryos were better quality.  I have no clue what that will involve, but I'm sure it's just more or less medication.

In the meantime we hold vigil for the two babies I've got and their 11 siblings.  Pray that they continue to grow and develop so that some make it to freeze.  I'll take any help anyone has to offer on the prayer side of things.  We've come a long way, but it still feels like we have a bare cliff-face to climb.

Dedicated to my only children.  Mommy and Daddy love you so much!

Saturday, August 20, 2011

And the waiting begins...

A person is a person, no matter how small. ~Dr. Seuss

Yesterday, after a nerve-wracking two and a half hours late phone call, I learned that out of our 17 babies, 4 arrested, or quit developing.  So we are down to 13.  I can't say I'm not disappointed, but realistically that is still an amazing amount to work with.  I guess it all depends on your philosophy of when life begins, but when all you've ever had is an embryo, each loss is difficult and leaves us with fewer attempts at a frozen embryo transfer, later.  Again, they only ever expect 30% of embryos to make it to day 5, so anything above 5 and we're beating the odds.

Today, I've tried to rest some more as I've got some beginning of the year, raging sore throat megalo-virus.  I can't talk much to my husband's amusement. I've peed like 18 times today so far (still trying to get rid of all the extra fluid).  I gained 4 of the 8 I lost back the next day and now I'm down 5 for a net of 9 so we're trending in the right direction.  I've tried to get the house ready for Emma Grace's grandmother (my mom) to come doggy-sit since we are headed back to Chat-town. I think I've picked my prescious puppy up so many times today,she is getting sore, but today is possibly the last day that I can pick her up for a while so she's just gonna have to take it!  I also hit the elliptical for one last time for hopefully several weeks...(PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE).

I can't say I'm not a little hesitant about the transfer.  My wee ones have a lot of help and support right now, and I'm so scared that I'm going to fail them.  Again, I know I've been extremely compliant and have continued to take all my meds exactly as directed despite a near death experience with a vein and an IM injection (lots of blood, but everyone survived).  There just is not as much control on the implantation side of things. To exacerbate matters, I'm already feeling crampy and pressure in my lower abdomen like before a period starts.  Hopefully it is just the progesterone buffing up my uterus, but it still makes me nervous. I hate to think that there could be something else I could have done to ensure that my babies make it to 4 weeks and then 5, 6, 7....

In 10 days, I will either be the happiest I've ever been in my life, or at the lowest point of my life.  There is no inbetween.  I can't even fathom how I'm supposed to prepare myself if this doesn't work.  How do you get past the feelings of failing at one of life's most basic functions?

Well, it's time to finish packing and begin the next leg of this journey.  All I can do is take it one step at a time.  Give it up to Him and my medical team.  Pray that I'm strong enough to make it through whatever outcome this brings and remember how much I love my husband and how loved I am.

Peace, Love & Survival to day 5,

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Gatorade is the best!

So I have some amazing news!  I've lost 8 lbs!  Yes, for real.  Who knew an egg retrieval would help that much!  7 more lbs to go, so I'm still slugging Gatorade as if my life depended on it.  Wonder how "water with miso lady" is doing?  

I was supposed to hear from Susan the embryologist around 10:00am, so at 10:01am I had myself convinced that they had bad news.  My Tyelenol was also wearing off so I was getting pretty uncomfortable.  I was near tears when my cell phone displayed missed call around 10:49am from the fertility clinic.  Of course my phone never rang.  I called and they immediately transferred me back to Susan who said [insert drum roll]

"Out of your 24 eggs, 20 were mature and 17 fertilized which is outstanding. That is an amazing return." So as of this moment BJ and I are the proud parents of 17 2-4 celled embryos.  I started crying immediately because I was just so relieved.  Of course everyone thought I was in pain from yesterday's hoopla.  Once I corrected them, they were full of joyful tears also. My father was so thrilled to find out he started naming them.  His names included poached, over-easy, hard-boiled, yolk, sunny-side, etc.  Oh, what a sense of humor that man has...Well, at least you know where I get it, now. 

I'm ecstatic.  I know I'm getting way ahead of myself, but it's still my belief that fertilization was our hurdle.  I know we are far, far away from home free, but we are a whole helluva lot closer to being parents than we ever thought we could be.  We've got a ways to go yet, but I'm ready to keep trucking and get through the next step.  

So for the next few days, I'm wearing estrogen patches and taking progesterone-in-oil (PIO) injections. They're a nasty little IM injection that have to be done with a huge needle because the oil is so thick.
Talk about pain in the ass...

They've already set us up to do the embryo transfer Sunday morning.  So we will be headed back down to Chat-town Saturday night.  Then I'll be laid out for the next three days while I let my babies implant which should happen in the following 5 days if all goes well.  I'll take a pregnancy test on the 30th and we will know if it worked.  I hope, hope, hope and pray this keeps going so well!

I also want to take another chance to thank all of you who've been asking about me and checking up on me. I know it is your prayers and thoughts that have made this process so much easier and successful.  It really brightens my day and has totally gotten me through some pretty rotten moments. Thank you, thank you, thank you!  Feel free to name one of my 17 babies after yourself...anything is better than over-easy!

Peace, Love & Continued development!


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Cluck, Cluck

This morning at 6:00am with four different alarms buzzing (it's a time-sensitive thing, and I was not taking any chances!!!) my amazing husband and I headed to the Chat-town facility of the fertility clinic we are using.  We had to do this because this is where the embryology lab is.  I slept like a baby the night before and woke up feeling rather que sera sera about the whole ordeal.  I knew I had taken my medicince exactly as instructed and refrained from any activities (such as running) that would possibly have had a negative impact on my ovaries.  However many eggs I had was what I had, and there was nothing more I could do about it. 

They took us back to prep for my "surgery".  They started an IV and all those shenanigans.  They use propofol, which is a short-acting anesthetic that is partially to blame for Micheal Jackson's demise.  It's good stuff.  I also found out that as of today I have gained 15 lbs in the last couple of weeks which was extremely depressing.  Most of it is water-weight from the fluids in my follicles, but it's still miserable.  What's worse, is that my body thinks it needs to refill  that fluid so it's going to hang on to water for a while still.  I'm on a diet of gatorade and have to weigh myself everyday for the next few days and until my weight get's back under control.  No one told me about  this part...but it sure explains why I've been so miserable the last few days.

I walked myself back to the operating room and once again was strapped into stirrups while being put under...sigh...It was not awful though.  I had an amazing staff of nurses working with me and they were super-comforting and encouraging.  They knew this was a big deal and treated me with a lot of deference which I really didn't expect.  Dr. D came in and helped get me ready.  They have to wait until the last possible minute to give the propofol because it can damage the eggs.  As soon as I was out they used an internal ultra-sound wand fitted with a 12" needle bayonet, with pipettes.  Dr. D individually inserted the needle into each follicle on my ovaries and removed all the fluid.

This is what was happening to me. How was your morning? (image from

It only took Dr. D about a half hour and I was rolled back into the recovery area to get an iv antibiotic and be monitored for a bit.  I had no pain what-so-ever when I woke up which is amazing for getting stabbed at least 24 times.  The embryologist, Susan, came back and told me they were able to retrieve 24 eggs, and after yesterday's freak-out, I broke down.  I was truly overwhelmed with emotion because I was so relieved to find out I actually had eggs.  The nurses hugged me and told me they were very proud.  Susan reassured me that she was an excellent baby-sitter.  After some more discharge instructions, they sent us on our way.  I thought I'd made it home without any funny anesthesia stories, but not so...

I hate to be mean, but the other couple getting their retrieval today was super-annoying.  They had a monitoring appointment around the same time as us Sunday, and we were laughing at them then, because they brought the maternal grandmother-to-be.  Well she came to the retrieval, too.  I was embarassed for the couple in their upper-thirties from that alone...(I'm Miss Independent, remember) but then we had to listen to them, too.  The husband opened up the conversation with, "How many times have your dropped the test tube with the eggs?"  HOLY HELL!  WHAT AN ASSHOLE! I asked BJ to go punch him (this was before my procedure so I wasn't drunk yet and asked it quietly.)  Then I had to listen to the potential mother-to-be refuse to drink gatorade.  "Can I drink water with miso, intead?"  OMG've gone through all this and you are refusing to drink Gatorade because of the sugar-content.  GET REAL!  The nurse more nicely than I can type implied she could do whatever she wanted, but that they've had to cancel transfers because of OHSS when people did not follow the protocol. 

After the procedure (when I was a little drunk), I had to listen to the granny-to-be argue with the nurse about the appropriate needles to use for the progesterone-in-oil injections.  REALLY??? Just do what they tell you for God's sakes, people!  Is it really worth 2 months of your time and $15,000 grand down the tubes for not doing what the experts who do this everyday say?  So then they mentioned that they were able to retrieve 17 eggs from "dip-shit" couple, and that is when I loudly said, "Yes, we beat them! We got 24!"  What!? I can't help my competitive nature!

So now, I'm supposed to keep drinking gatorade, heal up, and get ready to have my babies put back where they belong on Sunday.  Susan performed the ICSI this afternoon, but it will still take until tomorrow to find out how many fertilize correctly.  Each day some may quit progressing, so I intellectually understand that I'm not going to have 2 embryos to implant and 22 to freeze.  Emotionally, however, it's still sad to think that a little life (how-so-ever small) did not make it. I'm going to get a call tomorrow with the results of the ICSI.  Pray for my babies! 

As for now, it's time to go face a 1.5" needle with a large bore.  Hopefully, only five days of this!

Peace, Love, and Fertilization!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Wiggin' out...

Well, it's for real. I'm trying to pack, and I can't get it together long enough to concentrate on what I need so I thought I'd blog instead. I'm bouncing between apathy and freaked out. I want to not care. I'm tired from the past 15 horrible months of failures. I'm tired of my life revolving around my ovaries. I'm tired of disappointment. I'm tired of feeling terrible. I'm tired of crying.

What's weird is I thought I'd be crazy-excited and stupid-happy, but alas...I can't even do that well. I'm scared that my eggs won't be any good. I want to not care about my eggs. I'm so freaked out about my eggs it's exhausting. I should be freaked out about the large-bore 12" needle that will be shoved up my...well, hell, beav. I could care less about that part. I just want it to be over so I know if my eggs will fertilize, how many will fertilize, and how many will actually make it to the transfer.

As with everything else in my life I wish I was a step ahead of where I actually am. I know (I mean I'm a damn counselor for goodness sakes) that I should enjoy the moment. Whoever the hell ever came up with that mantra clearly was not suffering from infertility. I'm having a hard time figuring out what about this moment I'm supposed to be enjoying.

Well, I need to get going...pray for happy eggs and sperm!


Sunday, August 14, 2011

Shootin' Up on the Square

Well, it has been a hectic week!  I've had 2 more monitoring appointments since Wednesday. My ovaries have grown from the size of almonds to the size of baseballs, and I must say it's not feeling too great.  I feel gi-normous (giant and enormous).  I'm so bloated in my belly, and it makes me feel really disgusting.

I've made it through in-service week at school without crying or cursing at anyone, which was especially difficult Friday. I've had a constant headache since last Sunday, and I'm still fatigued.  I'm also cranky as hell.  Everything anyone does pretty much pisses me off, but I'm at least aware of the situation so I'm trying to take a deep, calming breath, smile, and then tell you that you are pissing me off because you are [insert any verb up to and including simply existing here].  Hopefully soon it will be a distant memory, and I'll be well on my way to motherhood. 

Friday's appointment revealed that my estrogen levels had risen to over 2000 and that my follicles had grown quite a bit.  The nurse said my ovaries were about the size of billiards balls and I could expect to be feeling rather uncomfortable.  I can definitely feel my ovaries.  They are not too painful, just full and sore feeling.  I've been able to go on about my life as normal though, so it's not holding me back.  In fact, this Friday I got to watch one of my buddies perform in Shakespeare on the Square here in East Tennessee.  It started right when I was supposed to shoot up, so I didn't let that stop me from mixing my meds outside. 

Just your friendly neighbor mixing up prescription drugs...
Friday's labs also showed that it was time for me to start my Ganirelix Saturday.  This drug is supposed to allow the smaller follicles some time to catch up and suppresses the LH so I don't ovulate.  It comes in a neat little glass syringe.  I had company over right as it was time to give it, so I darted into the bathroom thinking it would be quick as it was just another sub-q injection in my abdomen, but nay-nay.  The damn needle just bounced off my skin without penetrating it and I yelped a little bit.  I tried again and the same thing.  So I had to go all kamikaze and just stab myself like a samurai. least the medicine didn't burn going in...(it's the small things!)
Today was yet another monitoring appointment and blood test.  This morning before I got up to get ready for my appointment (yes, I had an appointment at 10:15am on Sunday) I started having really sharp pains on my right side. It lasted about 10 minutes, and me being Mary Katherine and hystrionic on all these hormones of course thought I was ovulating.  Fortunately, my ultrasound showed a bunch of ripe follicles and still several small ones.  Pat told BJ that I was being a real trooper and he should be proud of me.  It's really not been that bad.  I'm miserable, don't get me wrong, but I've been more miserable in the past few months than this.
This is what my ovaries look like.  UGH! (from
As of this evening they had diluted my estrogen level down 3 times from my bloodwork this morning, and still could not get a reading which means it is probably over 4,000 so I may be on the verge of hyper-stimulating.  This may explain the above crankiness and bloated feeling.  My other levels showed that I had still not ovulated, so tonight I got to trigger!  I gave myself three more shots. 2 of lupron to halt any OHSS, and yet more used pregnant woman's pee (HCG). 
What does that mean? 
In less than 36 hours, my eggs will be retrieved!  They will start fertilizing them via intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) so we know we'll get the job done.  I think I'm in shock that it is actually happening.  It's been a long 15 months, so it's hard to believe that this may happen for real.  I really want it to, but I just can't believe it! Anyway, I have to run around like a chicken with my head cut off getting ready to head out-of -town for this ordeal.  Wish me luck!
Peace, Love and Spawning!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Husband Speaks!

Early on in my wife's blogging endeavor, she asked me to contribute. I, of course, said "Sure!" Trying to figure out what to contribute was easier said than done...

As MK has stated previously, we had a plan. Well, she had "the Plan"; I just chimed in with a "Yes, dear." It was a good plan: We'd be married for two years before we started our family. Though when we got to the point of starting to try, I was hesitant. I was ready to be a father, but I wasn't ready to be a father. I'm not sure why I was uncertain about it all, but I did get over it by talking to MK.

That's key: communication. Open communication.

We tried and tried, and month after month - nothing. It was frustrating for MK who was focused on "The Plan." Me? It didn't bother me that much, if at all. I knew for some people, they got pregnant happened immediately. For others it took time. Time and Patience.

That's key: patience.

I was focused more on my career and where I wanted to raise my family. These distractions kept me from focusing on the frustrations of how things were not happening according to "The Plan." I knew MK was frustrated. I tried to be as understanding as I could be. But it was rough seeing her so frustrated month after month. There's nothing you can say or do to make things better. This fact became more painfully apparent as things progressed.

After MK's surgery, things got more frustrating for her. After the first month - nothing. The second - nothing. We were told that the surgery could increase our chances of concieving. No such luck. I figured that the problem might be with me.

Dear readers: You may think that this is hard to admit for a man. Admitting that there is an issue with my...stuff would be difficult to some, I imagine. For me, it was just the next step in finding a solution. It takes two to tango, no?

We found a fertility clinic and an appointment was made.

Now going in, I did have some preconceived notions of what I would do. I would sign-in. Whisper why I was there to the nurse. Get my "collection cup" and go into a posh room full of visual aides and collect a sample.

I. Was. Wrong.

I was ushered into an exam room with a closed door in the corner. The nurse told me I could go behind the door and collect a specimen. The door to the exam room closed, and with cup in hand, I opened the door to what I imagined would be the clinical equivalent to the "Grotto" at the Playboy mansion.

What I found was a small bathroom. It was white and small. There was a radio in there playing some Elton John or some easy listening music. I thought that was appropriate. I noticed another door. I approached it hoping to find this fabled lounge that the media had taught me was in every fertility clinic. I opened it finding the hallway outside the fertility clinic.

Fast forward a week to MK and I going to the clinic to get our results. We met Dr. D and he explained the situation. I won't go into details of his analysis since MK has done so else where on the blog. I will say that Dr. D is fond of drawing graphs and diagrams as he is explaining things. This is helpful, and, to me, a bit amusing. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because his sperm diagrams remind me of the Gary Larson Far Side cartoons.

As mentioned, MK has described that initial meeting with Dr. D, but I would like to talk about my experience. As Dr. D described my sample, MK automatically teared up. I, on the other hand, took the news that my boys were shaped like Stewie rather well. I wasn't upset. I suppose I took the news with a "How do we fix it?" attitude.

I'm sure I'll blog more. I think the most important thing I could share with husbands, boyfriends and significant others that are dealing with fertility issues is to be patient with your female partners. They will be sad, angry, and feel worthless. You must support them! Keep them as optimistic as possible. Try to remember that there is a light at the end of this dark tunnel. Just be strong.

Until next time...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Quickie-fastie update...

My appointment went well. I have 24+ follicles now that are 10.5 to 13mm. My E2 level is 1052 which, I believe is as high as it ever was with any of my IUI attempts. I'm doing swell, so they are keeping me on the same doses of everything. My head is still splitting, and everyday seems like a marathon, but I feel it's going to be worth it. I'm toeing the cautiously optimistic line to the absolute excitement area. I can't help myself, so I pray things keep going well! 18mm + sized follicles is the next goal. We'll see if we're any closer on Friday!

Off to bed,

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

OK, this is not for wimps...

Well, I said in my last blog that I couldn't feel my ovaries yet.  Well, that must have been the kiss of death because the next morning, if I walked too fast, jumped, or even just breathed deeply...I sure felt 'em. It's an odd sensation. Like I have two stones in my lower abdomen that feel bruised.

Speaking of bruisies...check this out!
This is my bruised, swollen belly that is taking the brunt of this process.  Ain't it cute?

Yeah, so thanks to the baby aspirin, I bleed all over my shirts if I don't use a bandaid and then I just form sexy little bruises.  Plus the bandaids help me know where I injected myself so I don't use the same place over and over.  You know, the whole blood clot thing...

BJ is just thrilled, as you could probably guess.  Nothing is hotter than a wife with multiple bandaids and bruises all over her body.  I feel like Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown! Yuck! Both injections seem to be leaving bruises at this point, and the Menopur definitely is like stinging myself with a bee.  I thought it wasn't so bad yesterday, and then today it came back and bit me. I guess I'll have time to experiment some more as the week is still young.  I still wind up with a headache every night and am dog tired from 2:00pm on.  However, the laundry situation does not resolve itself, unfortunately so I must trudge on.  (I still think BJ could just go to Wal-Mart if he needs more underwear...)

I had my first monitoring appointment yesterday with Dr. D.  I have 10+ follicles on each side that are close to approaching the 10mm mark which I thought was disappointing since it wasn't much bigger than last Thursday at my baseline.  Dr. D explained that it was just great because in an unmedicated cycle several of the follicles would already have been reabsorbed at this point. Also you would expect some follicles to begin to dominate, which we do not want to happen because I want all 20 eggs next week!  Dr. D also said he'd probably know by Saturday when I would have my retrieval.  Yikes! Can't wait!

They also took more bloodwork.  They hit the vein in two attempts this time. My estradiol (E2, otherwise known as estrogen, but calling it that wouldn't reinforce all the money the doctors spent earning their MD's...) has gone up from 37.5 to 435.  My E2 may get as high as 3000 something if all goes well.  Anything above 4000 indicates I may have ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome which is no fun and we would like to avoid.  My progesterone level is nice and low (I'm still deficient, but that's ok on this side of the cycle), and my luteinizing hormone (LH) dropped from 4 something to 1 and some change which is good because LH is the hormone that surges to cause ovulation.

They had me remain on the same doses of my medication until my next appointment which is tomorrow.  How exciting! Here's to growing follicles and tennis ball-sized ovaries.

Peace, Love and Tylenol,

Sunday, August 7, 2011

On Pins & Needles

I started my injections on Friday, and the side effects have been a bit beastly this weekend. Don't get me wrong, I would do this all year long if that is what it would take to procreate...assuming it didn't kill me first.  It is difficult, though.  These aren't drugs you just pop and move on with your day.  They kinda creep back and catch up with you.

I took my first dose of Follistim on Friday at 7:00am.  I went to work for a full day, and by 5:30 I could barely hold my eyes open.  I stayed awake long enough to give myself my Menopur at 7:00 pm while we were on the road to my parents house, but then I slept until we got there. I dozed on and off the rest of the evening.  It felt like one of those college weekends where you partied a little too hard and slept on an awkward surface.  I was too tired to sleep well, and my bones ached so I couldn't really get comfy.  I guess I had a hangover with none of the fun.  Then there is the Menopur...

Oh, Menopur! How I hate thee.  Let me count the ways.

All the required equipment for Menopur...
 1. You are a pain in the side.  No really you sting like a bee. It's really one thing to work up enough nerve to jab yourself, but, then, for the medicine to burn like beast going in also does not add any delight to the situation. 

2. You are annoying.  I have to mix this stuff and it involves 3 vials and putting the right amount in each vial, letting it sit long enough to dissolve sucking it back out of a vial and putting it in another vial, and then finally injecting myself. 

3. You are a headache.  Every evening I've had one of those nasty little headaches that just circulates my skull.  It's no fun.  I would appreciate it if you'd spend time doing your thing on my ovaries instead of floating around and messing otherwise healthy parts of my body up.  Thank you.

It's going to be a long week I fear, but hopefully will all be worth it very soon.  Tomorrow I go back in to meet with Dr. D.  They will do another ultrasound, more bloodwork, and possibly adjust my doses of medication.  It's kinda funny that I know I'll be having a "surgical procedure" next week, but I still don't know when.  I don't even know for sure when I'll know...makes planning for things the next couple of weeks rather difficult. 

I just hope my ovaries keep doing what they are supposed to do and don't go crazy.  They told me I should expect to feel pretty sore as the follicles grow.  I don't have any of that yet, so I guess I still have a bit to go.  I just can't wait for them to be able to make our babies!

Hoping for bigger follicles tomorrow!

Peace, Love and Spawning! 

Thursday, August 4, 2011

And we're off....

To the races that is...

I want to start by saying thank you so much for all the prayers and support.  It is really touching when so many people tell you they're thinking about, praying, and wishing you good luck. My phone kept lighting up at a training session today and my table-mates thought I was really popular...or as shallow as the middle schoolers they work with...hehe! 

I had some bloodwork done and a follicular ultrasound today.  I was pretty nervous/anxious so it was a long day.  Pat, my fearless leader through this forsaken journey, was the only one in the office today.  It's nice to think there aren't tons of us fertility-challenged hooligans running around so they can devote enough time to us.

Pat was having a good day because it only took her one attempt to hit a vein.  Her record is 9 attempts my first time having my blood drawn by her.  She told me she's nervous about Monday because she doesn't want to keep using the same vein.  It's starting to scar where they've used my one "good" vein over and over.  It kinda makes me feel like an IV drug veins are going bad...ahhh!  As long as they don't have to go between my toes, they can stick me however many times they need!  

Besides the normal estrogen level (E2) they usually take, they did another CBC to check for anemia as well as some other stuff.  All the prenatals and beef I've had over the last couple of months have paid off, apparently.  My levels were all good!  And all the crack I've been smoking is completely out of my system (I'm joking, again).

My follicular ultrasound was the nerve-wracking event for the day.  I was hoping for nice smooth ovaries, but it was not so.  I have 10+ follicles on my right ovary and 12+ on my left.  They were all measuring small (under 10 mm).  I was a little freaked out, but Pat was very excited.  She even jumped up and down a little which, under the circumstances, was a little rough for me as it was an internal ultrasound.  God, love her.  Anyway, I learned it is good, actually great, to have follicles this early. So yeah for small miracles!

I'm well on my way to 20 eggs, which is what Dr. D is expecting from me b/c I'm so young and vibrant. I'm hoping that this also means it won't take as long to get to the egg retrieval which would be fantastic because it's just that much sooner until we know what we've got.  And I'm sure my boss wants me to get this the heck over with so I'll be back to my awesome self.  (As if I'll be a pleasant, happy-go-lucky, pregnant lady...Well, who am I to squelch his dreams?)  So here's hoping for a quick and productive cycle! Cheers!

All this means that BJ and I start our Z-packs tonight.  This will clear up any VD that BJ has...I'm kidding.  It's just a preventative measure to make sure we don't get sick or clear up any sub-acute infections that we may already have.  It's good timing too, because I'm starting to get that East Tennessee sinus thing going on.  Plus all my little germy children come back to school in a week so I've got that covered, too.  I almost think a Z-pack should come standard to all school employees with school restarting. It could work kinda like the iodine pills they give people who live near nuclear plants...

Any-some-how, tomorrow I begin my Follistim injections and my Menopur.  7:00 am and 7:00 pm, so I'll definitely have some interrupted social time...sigh...or I could do it at work, but I think that would be a little more awkward having to keep my Follistim in the staff refrigerator...But in perfect MK fashion I have a cute little case in which to keep all my medical supplies! I just can't help myself...

Again, thanks for the so many well-wishes!  I really do appreciate them and I'm very blessed to have so many supporters in my life.  Love you all!  I'm going to go practice injecting something into BJ...bwahaha! (I want him to feel included, afterall.)

Your's truly,
Mary Katherine

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Gradum Tempore

Well the hours are ticking by ever so slowly. I'm really anxious to get this process going. I had my last glass of wine Sunday, my last pill on Monday, and my first IVF acupuncture session today. It's so strange not doing anything like taking drugs or having my blood drawn for so long. I can't remember the last time I went 10 days without going to the fertility clinic. How sad is that?

Not to worry though, I have appointments Thursday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So I will catch back up. I'm going to need a new hobby once I've finished fertility treatments. Hopefully one that will include changing diapers and cleaning up spit-up. But it does seem to really take over your life. It reminds me of the "Seasons of Love" song from RENT. I've measured a year of my life in doctors appointments and procedures. I cannot imagine having a chronic illness. Many props to those of you who troop through everyday dealing with a disease. While some will argue that infertility is a chronic condition, at least the cure gives you an awfully cute baby to look forward to. Not so much with any other disease.

Anyway, after talking with an acupuncture expert last week, I've started receiving treatments again. The research shows higher success rates with IVF cycles done in conjunction with acupuncture. I figure I shall leave no stone unturned. I don't want to look back at the end of this cycle and say that there was something else I could have done. Plus it's an hour to an hour and a half that I cannot do anything but relax. I think relaxing is going to be my biggest challenge this month.

BJ asked if I was excited today, and I told him I wasn't. My excitement has evolved into a little anxiety, but also a lot of grit. I feel like I'm in training and getting ready for a major event. I'm more focused on what I can do each day to make my chances that much better. I'm trying to take it one step at a time. I'm also taking lots of deep breaths and trying to stay as calm as possible for the next two weeks which will be really challenging as school kicks back up! Agh!!!

In other news the baby aspirin is definitely working as I now bruise like an old lady when you look at me too hard. I don't even remember running into anything and I have some pretty nasty bruises. I'll have to start making things up so I have a good story when people ask. BJ says I should say I ran into a door knob...he's always so helpful!

Anyway, I'll be accepting good vibes for Thursday! Let's get this party started!

Peace, Love, & Spawning,