Makes you stronger

Eye know

2010-11-11T11:09:00.000-08:00

My son, this son, my second son, has the ability to look into your soul with his eyes. When he locks on my gaze, my heart skips a beat. In those eyes, I feel my first son looking out, letting us know, after these 3 years, we can let him go and feel joy without guilt.

Thank you all for reading, virtually holding my hand and just plain being there these last 3 years. This community is so vibrant and healing, the bloggers and readers come and go, but the reason we are here will continue on, unfortunately. Without this community, I am not sure how I would have survived and for that, I thank each and every one of you. I wish you peace and joy and love as life carries you each on your individual journey.

2010-08-24T08:03:00.000-07:00

I didn't intend to drop off blogging after the birth of my son, but here I am. Taking care of him takes more out of me than I thought it would and it makes me happier than I thought I could be after November 7th, 2007. I keep feeling like I need to spend some time here, to tell the story of his birth and how terrifying it was to see him being bagged and the NICU team fill the room in the minutes after he was born. But I don't have that kind of time, at least I don't feel like I do right now. He is ok, he is healthy, that is end story here. He is here, his brother is not. I understand this now.

Here

2010-07-17T17:22:00.000-07:00

Henry Bruce was born at 321, weighing in at 8 lbs, 0.2 ounces and 21 inches. "Hank" is here, healthy and safe.

Testing mobile blogging

2010-07-16T09:00:00.001-07:00

Induction starts tonight. This is a check to make sure I can update from my phone. Hoping and praying the next update is wonderful.

Still here

2010-07-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

I'm still here, still pregnant. If he doesn't show up this week, our induction is this Saturday. I'm having emotional trouble wrapping my brain around it, which translates into crying for hours at a time. Considering I am not a big crying (call me the ice queen), it's been a bit disturbing. I have been feeling like a failure for crying and "convincing" my doctor to induce because I'm an emotional wreck feeling like he would be safer now outside of this body.

I was calm with the doctor for 37 weeks, this was the first time I let crazy out of the box. I kept apologizing, I don't want to be the crazy woman who is asking for an induction because she is uncomfortable and hot. That's not it at all, in fact I feel great. In between the times I am poking at my belly hoping he is still alive, in between the times I wake up drenched in sweat after dreaming would we would do to the fully set up nursery if we had no baby to bring home, in between the times I have to shout at my brain to relax, that he is going to be ok, in between the times I feel his head where William's was and wonder if he is stuck and we are just seconds away from him dying like his brother did.

My doctor was great though, told me I am not that cliche induction requester at all (that woman comes in with tears and her dayplanner with the date and time in it). I told her I try to escape this mindfuck (she liked that word) and have been winning the battle for most of my pregnancy, but in these last few days and weeks, the mindfuck is winning the war. She is fine with it, provided I understand that it has about a 50% chance of turning into a C section since my cervix isn't doing anything and the baby isn't engaged yet (it may get better by Saturday). I have thought all along I would have a C section, so if he gets a vaginal exit, that's just bonus points. Birth plan, remember = Get him out alive by whatever means necessary.

So, here we are. The final frontier. Not racing to the finish line, but racing to the beginning of something awesome. A place where I need to stop thinking about if I will survive if he dies, but how the fuck I am going to parent. Or maybe, after he arrives safely, we can tackle that challenge.

Full

2010-06-29T08:06:00.000-07:00

37 weeks today. "Officially" full term.

I admit, I have been wandering the last few weeks as a blissfully pregnant woman. Ignorant pregnant woman. Buying up all the stuff we need, receiving more gifts than I would have imagined without a typical shower. Allowing a "small" shower event during our last trip to the lake (which ended up not so small). M and I have navigated these last few weeks in awe. Wondering how we made it this far. Thinking we might actually have the golden ticket this time.

My doctor told me a week or so ago, that without the "weird placenta" she would call this a pretty normal pregnancy. The boy is growing well, not too big, not too small (60th percentile last scan), so the cord and the placenta have been doing their job. The gestational diabetes has been completely diet controlled. The blood pressure has been great (taken after I sit for the NST reading my book listening to his heartbeat helps). The previa went away quite some time ago. He moved from Frank Breech to Head down about 31ish weeks. Weight gain for me has been great, thanks to the GD (13 pounds total now, but I was overweight to start with, don't be too impressed). For all the monitoring and worry, this baby has been trooping right along.

So, we wait now. And now, as it becomes less of a dream and more of a reality, I am struggling to keep the bad thought demons at bay. I took my leave of this blogland to make it through and while I have been watching and reading, I haven't had it in me to remember the pain and to reach out and support others. Denial is a river I have been floating on to survive. Yet after my last appointment, where my doctor checked me for progress and immediately looked concerned that he was no longer head down (he is but off to the side a bit, no where near engaged in the pelvis), the demons are starting to win.

They are mocking me, making me regret these weeks of blissful ignorant pregnancy. Making me wonder what in the world I would do with all the stuff if he doesn't make it. Asking me to answer whether I could make it through if he doesn't make it, or whether the life I know would cease to exist. What doesn't kill makes you stronger, right? I wonder, what if he doesn't have room to move into my pelvis? His head is down and to the left, exactly where his brother was when he curled up and got stuck and died.

Yet, I know these are just demons and I can choose to pay attention to them and suffer these last few weeks or I can try not to give them power. Either way there is not much I can do about it, right? The boy isn't ready to be born yet. He is moving a lot and humors me every time I poke at him in my frantic search for life. He is being monitored once a week with an ultrasound and an NST.

We just have to wait. Like a book with alternative endings. The one for primetime (TADA! Baby!) and the others (the others). The other endings we won't give strength or power to. Come on little man, come on body, come on uterus, come on placenta, come on cord. Let's make this a ready for primetime story.

NST #1

2010-05-27T11:51:00.001-07:00

I know exactly what maternity outfit I was wearing when I laid on the table and they found no heartbeat last time. I make it a point never, ever to wear it to my doctor appointments. Neurotic much?

My doctor was called away to do a C section as it started. Then the dude wanted to do somersaults so kept going off monitor. An hour later, they had enough data. Looks good, with a few lows. Which was explained as him possibly "sitting on his cord" or "tugging it" - but they didn't stay low and overall he looked good. Fluid check (was high normal last week) was normal. Blood Pressure looks great. Blood sugars are great, still no meds needed. Cleared to travel 4 hours away by car for the long weekend.

The "lows" are plaguing my brain. It's fine, right? Why do I have a nagging feeling that the cord is around his neck and the rolls he is doing is causing the lows?

The great disappearance

2010-05-13T11:43:00.000-07:00

I am still here, hanging in and hanging out. Work has calmed down a bit, which simply leaves me more time to mindfuck myself. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in the all-baby-all-the-time way. Seriously. My husbands birthday last week? Yah, I got him a Pin.k Flo.yd onesie... Our 10th anniversary today? Food... (baby needs Molten Lava Chocolate and Caramel cake, shut up)

I hit 30 weeks this week. Great milestone, but when you couple that with the 10 more weeks thought, I just can't wrap my head around it. May is busy, but June we don't have many plans. How will I ever make it through? Not to mention the great disappearance of my feet and sometimes my dog...

Everytime I walk past a mirror or even a glass that has some reflection on it, I look at my belly. I am still in disbelief. For a while there I felt like it would be the great "HA! JUST KIDDING!" but now I can't really deny it.

Sometimes I think back to last time and wonder if it was really real. Did that happen or did I imagine it all? Then I think of sitting in that room, with my husband's hand on my leg and I remember how real that pain was. Or I remember his ashes, with little bits of bone, floating out of my hand into the lake. Yes, I was pregnant before, just not *this* far along. With my firstborn son.

You know what's stupid? I have this habit of saying to my dog, "How's my favorite dog today?" He loves it, makes him wiggle and whine for more love. Then I think how that habit will probably roll over to this baby, should I be lucky enough. But that's not fair right? How could I possibly say, "How's my favorite son" - Should I modify it and say "How's my favorite son who is alive?" I told you it was stupid, but I can't tell you how often my mind floats to it.

So 30 weeks and a few days today. Physically I feel great, some of the pain issues I had are gone. I think it's because he moved head down instead of frank breech. People ask me almost everyday, if not several times a day, how I am feeling. Fine, great, is usually my response and it disappoints them. I'm not kidding. I think they expect me to spill about pain, swollen feet (dude, wear compression socks everyday like me!), etc. So I have taken to the following: Fine, great, I am enjoying it now because I know I am living on borrowed time until I start slowing down. That appeases them, so they can launch into their stories.

The latest trend is starting, the asking if I am scared about labor and the pain. Or just assuming I am. This one trips me up because yes, I am scared, but not for my physical pain, but I am scared he will die. People don't want to hear that. So I kind of shrug and say, not really, not like I can do anything about it at this point. One lady took this as her opportunity to tell me a birth horror story about her friend that was ripped end to end and had to have special surgery after the birth to "put everything back together down there." Yup, nope, that still doesn't scare me. Sure, it would suck something fierce, but her baby lived, right? Yes? Ok.

So I wait. Next mini goal is our first NST in two weeks. After that, I don't know. Just day by day, minute by minute, watching him roll around in the belly. Trying not to freak out that hiccups mean distress. Meanwhile, my outer shell acts like an "innocent" - getting baby items, accepting gifts, deciding on a glider for the baby room... The freaked out, please let him live, please let him live, please let him live G$ is trying really hard to play nice with the "innocent" fake G$.

3rd Trimester: No man's land

2010-04-27T12:46:00.000-07:00

(No man's land... haha literally. Poor husband, pelvis rest since transfer, egads)

Here I am though. In this 3rd trimester land that I just missed last time and I am fucking useless. All I can think about is this baby, praying he lives, wishing time would go faster. I almost posted this image on FB today, but decided I didn't want to tempt fate by pretending to be blissfully unaware of the boogeyman still lurking around the corner.

I talked to my doctor about our delivery plans. We are going to monitor, monitor, monitor and plan for vaginal unless something happens or he stays breech. I asked if we should get the Perinatalogist's opinion on the cord and the stress it may be able to handle with a vaginal delivery. She is comfortable with the U/S tech & doctor clinic we are using every 3 weeks, soon every 2. So, here we are. I see her every two weeks, scan this week, then to two weeks. At 32 weeks we go to weekly and weekly NST's.

When I got out of bed this morning, I thought, all this monitoring could make no difference at all, you know. Then I thought, move baby, move. He obliged. Most of the time he obliges. Sometimes though, I think I imagined it and I wish for more movement. Sometimes I think I will lose my mind and this 3rd trimester is just now starting. It's crippling. I have tons of work to do to prepare to be out, but I am crippled just now.

Because you know, I make people. But to date, they haven't made it out alive.

ETA: Isn't it strange how a post takes a turn like this? I started it feeling like I was going to express how HAPPY I am to be 28 weeks. I guess I'm not as happy as I would like to think...or I realized this isn't fucking FB where I pretend like things are hunkyfuckingdory.

87, 26, 2.2, hut, hut, hike

2010-04-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

Today is 26 weeks and it feels like... just another day. I could look it up, but I think the day William died was actually 26 weeks and 2 or 3 days. Does it really matter? Not so much. This little guy is moving a lot, keeping me sane. Well sometimes at least. Sometimes the flutters are so fast I think, oh no, he is OK in there? Ahhh shut up brain.

We had a scan on Thursday. The boy looks good. The tech printed us a money shot. Seriously, I didn't really need a print out of my son's "junk" but I added it to the baby book that is already full of many, many ultrasound pictures. The placenta is still bilobed, the cord still has its velamentous cord insertion (VCI) presentation. These are the things left to worry about, because they aren't really concerned anymore (at least for now) about IUGR. You see, he is 87 percentile... meaning they hope babies are about 1lb 8oz right now, he is almost 2lbs 2oz. So the placenta is doing it's job and perhaps my baby sugar "tricks" should go by the wayside.

The VCI cord thing coupled with his current frank breech position has me just assuming we will go with a C section. I know he has plenty of time to turn and what I have read, the VCI "shouldn't" pose any problems during birth. But the stories on forums about VCI women whose children died when the vessels burst during labor have me feeling pretty neurotic. It's a conversation I still need to have with my OB. What if she only wants to do natural labor? Will I be OK with that decision? My uterus really doesn't need anymore scar tissue, but that really is so low on my importance scale. Birth plan = get him out alive.

There's plenty of time to work this all out, right? I just made it to 26 weeks. Next goal, 30. I am in uncharted waters. I admit, I am flailing a bit. Having trouble concentrating at work, having trouble making it 5 minutes without thinking about whether this boy will make it out alive. People talk to me like a normal pregnant person - Am I excited? (Excited = terrified, sure!) - Oh July and pregnant, that will be so hot (I can't see July from here) - Next year, you will have the little baby at this party, G (I will? Can you guarantee that? Please!). All this normal talk makes me so very uncomfortable. Just ignore the belly, let me freak out in this corner by myself.

She said what?!

2010-04-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

I confess, I have lurked on babyc.enter boards. I don't think it's appropriate to repeat the name I have given the boards when talking about them to my husband. Let's just say I feel like my IQ lowers when I venture over there. The sheer volume of women who complain or whine about things that blow my mind is substantial. Here's a few topics to drive home my point:

- My son's junk!! - This woman is concerned and hopes that her son has the right sized package. Because you know ladies, we have all been with guys that were not endowed enough and it makes a big difference. Funny, I just hope my son is born alive....

- Birth announcements make me sad - We are all in the 23-28 week range, so when these women read the few threads of devastated mothers who had pre-term labor and are now either mourning their child or are trying to hang in there emotionally with a child in the NICU. One woman said she wanted to cancel her membership of the group because reading these stories were too devastating for her fragile, pregnant mind. Seriously.

- One of my all time favs: Insurance woes lady - Girl cancels her insurance because not much was covered anyways and they needed that $200+ a month. Finds out she has a complication (vasa previa - you know the thing they are watching ME for) that will require a C section at 36 weeks to prevent stillbirth. She is asking for input on whether she should risk a 4% greater chance of interuterine demise of the fetus (yes, fetus) so that the child would be born closer to 37-38 weeks and save them money from time spent in the NICU. She stated she was concerned for the family she has now (1 daughter + Husband) and their financial future. Oh boy, I can't believe I read as long on that thread as I did. I also can't believe the amount of people that agreed she should push for a later birth and take on the 4% risk. My take: No doctor in his right mind would give you that choice anyways sweetheart. While you are at it, maybe you should look into adoption for the "fetus" because if she does end up costing you a whole lot, you will probably treat her as such for her whole life. PS - you don't think a stillbirth will devastate you, let me introduce you to a whole community of women who may disagree with you.

- Many threads on smoking while pregnant. Hey, I get it, my mom has smoked for going on 50 years, it's a hard habit to break. But really, I can't believe I continue to click on posts where women are feeling bad about still smoking and are looking for validation. And get it.

- Same note as above - bad habits of pregnancy. It's like nails on a chalkboard reading these threads where they are doing stupid ass shit that puts the baby at risk. Honestly, I don't walk the straightest line, I still love me some Feta Cheese and a glass of ice tea on occasion, but come on people. Come over here to Dead Baby land, maybe you will change your ways.

Fuck that's just the short list. It's a train wreck that I can't look away from. I am sure it can't be good for my blood pressure to read it even once a week, but I can't help myself.

On a similar note. My OB said something that rings in my ears. She stumbled on her words, so it was obvious that she realized she was saying it wrong or was just plain uncomfortable, but: You were 26 weeks with your last miscarriage?

Uh... yah. I know it shouldn't bother me, miscarriage versus stillbirth is a semantics battle we have all talked about. But from my OB? Ugh. This was in the same conversation where I told her I can't see the horizon after 26 weeks and she was very sympathetic, so I don't fault her too much. I just hope she doesn't say it again, forcing me to correct her.

So my friends, I leave you with the following site. Another example of horribleness. I felt I had to share it here because I think many of you could have written some of the entries: myobsaidwhat DOT com

Paranoia the destroya

2010-03-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

I have such a hard time not feeling like a hypochondriac. My personality is such that I want to push forward, proving that "I can" at any turn. While I have every "right" to be paranoid, it doesn't come easy for me, which may come as a surprise to you since I dump my paranoia in this fun little blogger box.

My appointment was good, it was boring. Boring is good. I asked my questions, we agreed to watch things. She sympathised that I am scared. I told her about the regular tightening I have in the afternoons at work. It's just when I get up and move around, not when I am sitting. More prevalent after I go potty. She told me to listen to my body, if this tightening goes away when I sit or lay down, then sit or lay down. But let her know if they increase. I don't feel like these are contractions as they don't come in systematic waves, it's just one big tightening as I walk.

Yesterday afternoon, my belly went tight in the afternoon, once again. It didn't go away after an hour or so after we got home and it started back up again this morning in the shower. Again, not waves, just an overall tightening, just when standing or walking with no other symptoms, no back pain (besides the normal stiffness) and no (knock on wood everyone, please) bleeding. So today I am home, taking it easy. Probably getting more work done than I would at work. But trying not to be paranoid. Thinking, maybe this is just gas?

Today is 24 weeks. The baby moves so much more than I have ever known before. Hang in there uterus, settle down. Maybe I will decrease work hours from 10 hours and maybe get a couch for my office. Whatever you need uterus, keep him in there, getting big and chubby and ready for the world.

19 days left

2010-03-25T06:38:00.001-07:00

I use iGoogle and have several cool features in it. A couple of which are countdowns. The first is a countdown to the 26 week mark we didn't make it past last time, the second is a countdown to a huge warehouse sale for one of my favorite online shoe stores (don't judge me) and the third is for my actual due date.

The emotions I have been running through lately have been all over the place. I am SO EXCITED and then I spend time thinking about how I would emotionally survive another loss at this point. It's my very own bipolar pregnancy emotional rollercoaster and it's exhausting.

When I look at that first countdown, with it's 19 days today, I cannot for the life of me see what's beyond that horizon. This pregnancy is so different than last time. As much as I hate to compare it, it seems to be a coping mechanism. He moves so much more than his brother did. Duh, he isn't restrained by a uterine septum like his brother. I have more traditional pregnancy symptoms, skin issues (dude, shut up, pimples at age 36 are hot!), constipation (how do people live with this on a regular basis? One day missed and I whine), aches, pains, lack of sleep, etc. None of which I am complaining about, in fact most of the time (besides the poo factor) I get excited about a new "common" symptom that I didn't have last time. I allow myself a little hope that this time, we will make it to the other side. Not that I can see over that 19 day brick wall.

Today is my regular appointment. We are going over the scan I had two weeks ago. I have a list of questions about measurements, fluid levels and of course, the placenta and the cord. That's just the first bullet point I have on my full sheet of hand written questions. 19 days is bringing out my crazy even more.

I think I forgot to mention that we are officially licensed to be Foster parents now. We have suspended our home for placements for the time being, all things considered. I have been expressing to family and friends that we intend to stay licensed though, as we may tap the system for a potential sibling. Because you know, even with a few not so great quality frozen embryos left, I am not sure I can ever do this again. I am ready to move on, spend the last half of my 30s not trying to get pregnant, but just being. It sounds lovely, I am just not sure it's realistic.

For now, I am blind past 19 days.

Two lobes

2010-03-01T13:52:00.000-08:00

So I was able to circle back with my doctor about the ultrasound. Things look good, he is measuring fine (like they said). They weren't able to see some anatomy quite well enough so they want to do new measurements in two weeks. Ok.

What is a concern is that the placenta is divided into two lobes. Which is associated with an increased risk for cord compression and growth restriction. We were on the look out for growth, hence the increased scans.

How freaked out should I be about a two lobe placenta?

Milestones

2010-02-26T10:02:00.000-08:00

I'm approaching a major milestone in this pregnancy - 20 weeks on Tuesday. Yesterday we had the anatomy scan. It's a fair bit easier going into an ultrasound when you can feel the little bugger moving than not. But the fear and terror still has the power to cripple me.

I had my regular OB appt beforehand, which wasn't the best planning, but my work schedule sort of demanded it. My blood pressure was OK but a bit elevated again, which I fully expected with a major ultrasound scheduled right after. Things look ok, my weight is good, my GD is in check with good dietary choices. The doctor did find it amusing where I circled in my records the few high readings and next to them put the reason, for example: Burger and Fries... Hey! I tried to eat less than normal and go for a walk after! Still, no go :)

We listened to the heartbeat and I calmed a bit. 4 floors down we went to the ultrasound. Immediately the profile was heartwarming. Sweet little kid, already giving better pictures than his big brother. Without further ado:

(sorry for the cam phone pic of the ultrasound, scanner down atm)

He is measuring well, according to the u/s tech and then the radiologist. But you know the brain of a dbm. The radiologist said they want me back in 2 weeks or so to get more measurements. The u/s tech mentioned an "extra bit" of placenta. She was pretty quiet and spent a long time trying to find where the cord attached to the placenta. I'm trying really hard to cling to "measuring well, looks good," but I can't help but wonder what they aren't telling me. Why do I go back in 2 weeks instead of the 4 weeks? I know we are set to check on the kid every 4 weeks from here on out to track his growth, but did they see something that prompted an even earlier scan?

Before I let these doubts fester in my brain last night, we let ourselves wallow in the bliss of a healthy boy. Texts galore, calls to our moms and a few others, and then I did it. Ugh. Have you ever woken up the next morning with Fa.cebook post regret? Well I did. I have kept all hints of this pregnancy off of FB until now, but for some reason I posted the picture. The responses have been abundant but so have the comments that I have purposely been avoiding. You know, from the people that don't know. The blissfully ignorant comments that are meant to be lovely but feel almost embarrassing. I'm sure "boys are the best" and I will enjoy this "even when I have puke on my shoulder and no sleep" - but shit. FB posting remorse. That's me this morning, what was I thinking?

I also realized this morning we are in the long stretch now. Last time we had a blissful 20 week scan too. But at some point between now and 26 weeks, it all went to shit. I just want to take a nap and wake up at my due date. For now, as I always say, I am taking it one day, one hour, one minute at a time. Hang in there little man.

GD

2010-02-17T06:58:00.000-08:00

I am sure the hostility I was broadcasting was felt by all the very pregnant women at the table. It was my first experience in a group setting of pregnant women since... well, ever. For some reason it made me angry. These women, farther along than me, with heavy bellies sitting there, probably irritated they failed their 3 hour GTT. When the instructor started with the first women closest to her, I became even more hostile.

They were asking personal questions about pregnancies in a group setting! Oh for fuck sake, I couldn't sit there and pretend the worst thing in the world is gestational diabetes. I didn't want to have to answer whether I had GD before and if so, in how many pregnancies. I was third down the line, but with the first woman answering I was freaking out in my head and could feel my face turning red and the sweat start to gather.

Then the second woman spoke and everything went still and quiet. She listed out her due date, with the caveat that she would be giving birth almost a full month before that via schedule C section. The nurse was taking notes and didn't look up when she asked why? The woman answered that she had large fibroids, gestational diabetes and well, she lost her first baby at 39 weeks. I could almost feel the silent gasp from the other pregnant ladies and the long, pregnant, uncomfortable pause. Then the nurse raced off with more questions about her blood sugar tracking.

I felt like an idiot. There I sat just one pregnant lady ago, miffed that I had to take a group class with all these "innocents." Before I could even finish my thought process, the nurse moved onto me and I stumbled over my answers. I was asked if I had gestational diabetes before (as a reason to why I, at 16 weeks compared to the 26+++ week women at the table, was there). I fumbled and said I had failed the 1 hour on my last pregnancy and before I could say that I never got a chance to hit the 3 hour, that I too don't have a child at home to show for it, she moved on.

The following week, I tested my blood sugars 4 times a day and more often than not thought about that woman. I thought about how not one person at the table, including me, gave her any sympathy over the child she lost. I had the opportunity to reach out to another dbm and I failed. Not just a dbm, but a scared shitless, get through each day, pregnant one. I decided I didn't care if it made the other innocent pregnant ladies in the room uncomfortable, I would say something, anything to this woman at our followup class.

Last Thursday rolled around and she wasn't there. I felt like I let her down and missed an opportunity to reach out to her, to let her know her baby meant something to me and that I was thinking about her. When I returned from the bathroom, she was there and she was seated in the seat right next to me again. At the end of the class (we were all successful in keeping our blood sugars in range! I even received kudos for barely going over on my birthday) I leaned over and tapped her shoulder.

I quietly said to her, "I am really sorry about the loss of your first baby. I know you brought it up last week and I just feel bad that I didn't say something then. I also lost my first, but at 26 weeks"

We chatted a bit, back and forth for the few minutes we could. She was 4 days (4 fucking days!) from her C section when she realized she didn't feel her daughter moving anymore. They found 7 or so clots in her placenta and cord when they delivered her. She is taking baby aspirin now and being watched closely by the same Perinatal office I go to (No, she tested negative for all clotting factors, they aren't sure what happened...). In fact, they were going to do an MRI later that day to check on everything. She is scared and testing her blood sugars more than "needed" according to the nurses because she *has* to, she has to do everything she can.

I can't really describe how I felt when I left. I'm glad I spoke to her, reached out so she knew she wasn't the only one in a room full of happy, carefree pregnant women. I told her "Good Luck with everything" as I left, but that doesn't really cover it all, does it? I'm thinking about her a lot, wishing, hoping, praying things are different for her this time. She is 28 weeks now. I really wish I would have exchanged info or something with her, I wish I could know when her baby makes it out safe this time. She will remain in my thoughts for the stressful weeks to come.

Take away the knowledge, thanks

2010-01-26T10:33:00.000-08:00

In my quest to be fully informed, sometimes I hit a spot where I wish I just didn't know. Things that fester and crawl under my skin, agitating me.

When I pushed for more care, it was because I didn't want to *need* it. I had my appointment with the Perinatologist today. It was good. The ultrasound was long and checked all the anatomy, it was all there. But small. From the get go, this one has run behind and no matter how many times doctors say NORMAL, the knowledge gets under my skin. S/he is mostly on track, just a few days behind = NORMAL, hell s/he was a week behind initially, so growth has caught up. What stops me in my tracks though, is what my doctor today said: "Well, the 26 week fetus was pretty small for that gestational age. We will want to watch the growth on this one"

Elation of a "normal" ultrasound is gone. An official gestational diabetes tag, complete with a guess that I will end up on insulin since I am on metformin for my PCOS and still came up short on the 3 hr gtt. Complete placenta coverage over my cervix (not Previa yet, as they don't diagnose it as such this early / 15 weeks, still plenty of time to move) and high-normal blood pressure. I realize that this quest for information and knowledge has been stupid. I almost wish they would take it away and let me live in blissful ignorance, but I asked for it.

What I can't grasp onto and let wiggle through my brain incessantly is that the Peri told me I am basically "normal" and the baby looks good - they will just continue to monitor me, monthly ultrasounds at least. Other than that, wait it out (and watch my diet). A long, long wait.

Perspective

2010-01-20T12:05:00.001-08:00

I had a post all set in my brain to bitch to you guys about how my appointment with the Perinatologist was turned into a Genetic Counselor appointment and how that stressed me out. But I received an email from an old coworker who left the firm just a weeks ago:

With great respect, I am looking for your opinion/input.

We had a family tragedy yesterday with our oldest son and his wife losing their first baby in her last few weeks before delivery. She is going through the delivery process right now and we know that there is a lot of emotional pain for both of them as this plays out. I know you went through this sadness and hurt, and probably have a sense of what family support was helpful and what is not.

So, I was wondering if you had any thoughts for us as we want to offer support of some kind but don’t know exactly what kind of support would help. In that regard we understand that this is a very private time for anyone going through this kind of thing. I guess we feel frustrated not knowing what kind of help to offer and when to offer it…. Any thoughts would be appreciated. I don’t mean to intrude on your time or experience and understand if you’re unable to respond.

There are so many reminders of how short life is

I immediately closed my office door and let myself cry as I responded with my assvice, including a link to Now I Lay Me Down since she was still in labor. It's so heartbreaking to know that somewhere, right now a whole family is feeling this ache and pain. I am honored that he reached out to me and honored to help in any way I could.

It really trivializes my complaints about care. I was so nervous and scared for my appointment yesterday afternoon, but after that email, I was calm (results were all normal, btw). It helped me put things into perspective and allowed me to simply ask for exactly what I needed, rather than letting the entire thing get my blood pressure up. This pregnancy feels so different, I feel like this baby tells me to chill out at times. Last time through, I felt an ominous bad feeling the whole time through. This time, if I stop freaking out for a moment, I feel I am being told it will be ok (for now).

For now I am taking it day by day and I am thinking of this mother, this family, this beautiful baby and wishing things were different for them.

1st of ?

2010-01-14T16:52:00.000-08:00

My OB's nurse got to experience my first freak out today. Let's face it, it's going to be the first of many. I am not *trying* to be high maintenance but when I had genetic bloodwork taken last week and get a call from the other nurse this morning that my doctor wants me to see a Perinatologist Genetic Counselor this week, I freak.

Seeing another doc, a high risk doc, was on my list of things I probably wanted to do, but once she said it like that, with the GENETIC counselor bit thrown in, I worked myself up pretty quickly. I asked the other nurse when she called (she was returning my call about meds and flu shots) if the referral was for a particular reason. She was a bit wishy washy and said that Dr H just wants to you to see them... Texting to husband commenced, office door closed, self talk to stop freaking, it was just because of my sordid history...

When my OB's nurse called me with the results of my 1 hour GTT (fail, 142, cut off 139, boo... onto 3 hour next week), I told I was freaking out a bit. I was concerned that something came back abnormal and that's why I had to go see a Peri GENETIC person. She had to call me back after she found out more. I reiterated I was just probably overthinking it, but it had me concerned. When she called back and confirmed that no results have come back yet, the doctor just wants me to see a PERI (less so genetics) because of my history, I apologized for bugging her, but that it had just freaked me out a bit. She listened, didn't sound all that amused, but was nice enough.

Shall I keep score then?

So I am in the midst of making an appointment with a Peri. Which, as the day went on, I felt a lot better about. My OB really wants me off the Lovenox and I want a second opinion. She also wants me to stay on the Metformin 2000mg and I want a second opinion. I'm scared to change anything, but I am also scared to stay on things. Hopefully having two doctors caring for me will help ease some of my fears. Hopefully.

Now, I need to go load up on sugar products (COOKIES!!) before they cut me off. (I kid... kind of)

Calm

2010-01-08T08:40:00.000-08:00

I was fine most of yesterday, my appointment was late - 4pm. With a few hours left, I started to silently freak out. Freak, then calm, freak then calm was the pattern until the goop went on my belly and I waited to see the heartbeat. But I couldn't see the heartbeat for a little while.

The little baby was dancing a fast paced jig all over and it was hard to focus on any one thing. He/she was so active the u/s lady couldn't get a heartrate on him/her. Finally, I calmed down and my breathing evened out, the moment when my world would crash had passed. Within a minute, the little baby calmed down too. Little skinny arms and legs settled in. The little hand with fingers we could see moved down to his/her side. Measurements were finally allowed.

Normal. No more measuring behind, no large nuchal fold measurement (only 0.9mm), perfect 165bpm heartrate. A beautiful little baby in there, complete with my big ass forehead and wee little nose. Mouth opened, mouth closed. We are blessed.

Now, it is really real. There is no conserving my heart now, I am lost in love with this little one.

12

2010-01-06T12:27:00.000-08:00

I'm still not fully believing I am here, hence the quietness. M asked me the other day how many people I had told and when I counted them on 1 hand he gave me the "you know this is really real" look. Sure, sure, but with every new person that knows, I freak out a little bit.

So yesterday I hit 12 weeks and told a couple more people that I am close to at work. "Oh at 12 weeks you are safe" comment came out and at the same time was wished back in by one of them. I replied "So, they tell me, not that it always works that way." Most people have been genuinely happy with a side of, "I know it can't be easy." Which is the best that I can expect.

For every appointment, the nightmares start a few days before. Last week I had my first appointment with my new OB. I like her, she listened, she was happy to receive my huge file that I brought. She spent 45 minutes with me going over things. Then she said, "Ok let's go take a look!" I immediately thought, wait, no, the appointment person said no u/s this time, that's why I didn't make M come with me. She read me and said, "Unless you don't want to... we can just try and listen instead." I begrudgingly agreed to go for the ultrasound, thinking the lack of h/b on the doppler could be worse.

When she came into the u/s room, I already had tears in my eyes. I told her, "I'm sorry, I just get really anxious before an u/s" She stopped and looked at me and said, "Yes, I suppose you would" and then made sure to point out the heartbeat as quick as she could while I let tears just roll down my face. We talked about things more after, she really wants me off the Loveno.x since my tests came back normal last May for clotting disorders. I told her I was uncomfortable with changing things at this point and would feel better if she tested me again before taking me off it, which she agreed to do. Then I said what I needed to tell her from moment one:

"I know what I've been told - it was the uterine septum and now it's gone and things should be ok. But, I never had an autopsy and, well, what if it wasn't that? What if something else caused the stillbirth?"

This was really a pivotal moment for our relationship. Top of my list of things to go over with her was the need for facts and figures, not sunshine blown up my ass. Telling me everything's going to be all right would equal new doctor right then and there.

Instead, she ordered a huge amount of tests for me, lots of blood taken, Glucose test this week instead of later, Nuchal fold test this week and promised to go through my records in depth before making any decision on meds and care. She's a keeper, I think.

Her nurse gave me the booklet on birthing with them, complete with beautiful, happy families in labor & delivery rooms. I almost asked why she was giving it to me yet, it was far too early to think like that. Instead, I just walked out dazed, put it on the seat next to me in the car and thought, hmm, I guess this is really real, at least that's what those people think.

So here I am. Tomorrow I have the Nuchal scan, more bloodwork and the glucose 1hr test. The nightmares started again a few days ago, but last nights was especially vivid and bad. M says it's because of the stupid ass Despera.te Housew.ives episode I watched last night. I suppose he may be onto something (Did you see it?) I am not wishing I wasn't having the scan tomorrow, all the scenarios beyond no heartbeat are racing through. Why did I want to do this?

I've moved past the exhausted phase and now dealing with bouts of insomnia and when I am not awake at 2am feeling like my hips and legs are going to fall off because they are so numb, I am in a nightmare. We have a doppler from the last go round. It's a pretty good one. Monday I was ready to cancel the nuchal test because I was sure it would show another dead baby, but the doppler told me the little bean is still in there, wishing I would leave him/her be.

Please don't think I am complaining, I'm just here, feeling like I am an observer in my own life, trying to get by day by day, minute by minute.

Graduate

2009-12-17T15:41:00.000-08:00

Baby used a little limb bud and waved at us today. Catching up.

We graduated.

Wow.

ps, hey Anon from yesterday, yes I am neurotic. I make no qualms about it. Read the right hand side right there and understand why. Then, as I said, Go Fuck Yourself.

Jinx & Fear

2009-12-16T09:13:00.000-08:00

Terrified today for no apparent reason. Well, maybe just because we told a few more people - MIL, siblings and I feel like that will = no heartbeat on the US tomorrow. And it has me crippled. I have work to do. I have performance reviews to conduct.

What is with this jinx thing? I have read it on other blogs too.

I also have this recurring flash daytime image - me waking up screaming in pain and miscarriage.

This started out so strangely, we resigned ourselves to failure. Now we were given hope. I have an OB appointment made, further jinx.

A similiar scenario is unfolding at work that happened two years ago, superstition creeps in.

I seriously don't know how to get through these days, weeks, months... fuck, minutes.

Spot

2009-12-10T09:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning I had a few really sharp pains in my uterus along with the smallest amount of brown spotting. The fear monster reared its ugly head for the billionth time.

So we were told to come in. I felt a little silly. When I was pregnant with William I was pretty hands off, sure I mindfucked myself but I tended to not call. That person is gone. Luckily my RE's nurse likes to chat on email anyways.

Everything looked good. There's a potential clot under the edge of the placenta and the non viable twin that could have caused it. I did hike up a pretty steep hill the day before after weeks of slothitude. My doctor told me that I may get more brown spotting, but if it's any worse or red, or just plain scares me, come in they will check it out. Otherwise, the baby's heartbeat was stronger (155bpm) and the growth is progressing well. Still almost 5 days behind but I was told not once, but twice that it's OK, the growth rate is what they are really tracking at this point since obviously the little bean had a slow start.

Then we talked about graduating to a "regular" OB. I'm just not ready yet, not ready to believe this is going to be ok, not ready to leave the cocoon. He gave me 4 names, 2 of them at the University medical center and he wasn't sure that I could stand the residents and fellows that would lurk about. I think he is right. I asked him if he was sure he wanted his peers in the field to experience my neurotic behaviors. He probably gave me names of people he wants to punish.

So I am deciding on it. I feel like making an appt will jinx it all it. I feel like I am dreaming and taking the progesterone and blood thinners as a way to keep the facade going.

Back next week to check on growth. My homework is to make an appt with an OB. So my question for those reading: Did you shop your OB? Did you make a few appts and test the waters? I may need to do that so I can feel out which one will handle this neurosis.

Is this real? Don't pinch me, I don't want to wake up.

Wow x 10

2009-12-04T15:40:00.000-08:00

My new car (you know, the one I bought 3 weeks after William died...) was dead when I tried to leave for my ultrasound appointment today. I'm not going to lie. I cried. So fucking ominous.

M had to double back and pick me up and subsequently we were 30 minutes late and they were probably going to reschedule. I almost threw up. The doctor that saw us last Friday stepped in and took us back.

Dildo cam in. I see something and turn to M who looks at me with the same expression. OMFG. The doctor said, Wow. We have a heartbeat.

I started crying. My brain was already all over the place, sure... HB but is it normal? Nothing about this has been normal.

Scan above (crappy picture, sorry). Normal 127 bpm. We are measuring a few days behind but the doctor said that wasn't that big of a deal in her opinion. The other sac is still there and growing too (hence the major bloat) but definitely empty.

We are stunned. The doctor said Wow like 10 times. The nurse was beaming. Fucking surreal. I am still freaked right the fuck out though, but trying to let myself be happy for a little while at least. Again, this didn't start normal, so we have to remain guarded. Back next Friday for another scan.

Hang on little fighter, hang on.

Don't believe this blog

2009-11-29T12:53:00.000-08:00

I have to be making this shit up. Seriously.

After exchanging emails with my RE's nurse, I went in Friday for a beta to make sure the HCG was going down, since I hadn't had any bleeding yet. With the holiday, I was told my results wouldn't come back until Monday.

Instead I get a call in the afternoon asking if I can come down right away for an ultrasound as my HCG went up. How much? 5900. FANFUCKINGTASTIC! 10 days after I was told to stop all meds...

The good news is, it's not another ectopic. The [pick your description] news is that it's twins. Both in the uterus. Both very, very small. One empty, no yolk sac or fetal pole. The other with a fetal pole measuring almost on target, but no heartbeat.

There's a chance that next Friday we could see something more promising. But let's be realistic, like the doctor was: "It's not a 0% chance that this will progress normally, but it's not much higher" There should be a heartbeat at 6.5 weeks, it should be a lot bigger and my HCG levels are still pretty low, especially considering there's two in there with placentas putting it out.

Pinch me please, someone wake me up. My Uterus of Doom(TM) has killed babies in just about everyway possible. Stillbirth, Ectopic/Tubal, Chemicals, now blighted ovum and no heartbeat (traditional mc?).

I was considering giving up this blog, being one of the most pathetic bloggers isn't exactly fun. This situation, this additional limbo with the fun side effects of nausea, belly bloat and no vodka allowed doesn't help at all. I don't know what I want from this post, it's certainly not prayers, pity or sympathy.

Probably just disbelief and to make it to the hall of fame of Fake Bloggery. Cuz this shit can't be real.

Here I am

2009-11-18T17:00:00.000-08:00

You know that light at the end of the tunnel? It seems to be running low on batteries and is starting to get really fucking dim.

I'm doing ok, considering. Beta went up a tiny bit on Sunday just enough to mindfuck and cause further testing. Monday showed even less of an increase so meds stopped and waiting for it to resolve. Part of me hoped the rise was enough for a tubal again, in the one tube that's blocked and hanging out there by itself. Just because, you know, that would be FIXABLE!

But no.

I'm not ready to think about where I am. I mean, I am right here, but I am not sure I am willing to admit it yet. I am not ready for the crushing realization that the only labor and delivery I will experience was two years ago, shrouded in horror, sadness and pain. At least I had that, I think.

There's 3 embryos left. 3 little embryos that are there as the last chance. So much pressure on those little guys. They aren't that great of quality either. They are waiting to meet my Uterus of Doom.

But first, opinions from the scores of doctors at our current RE. My RE is going to present to the rest for input on what might be going on. Then other opinions. How sad is it that thinking of taking my records to another doctor makes me weepy? I love this guy, but why can't he fix this? He is my hero in the white coat. Why can't he fix me?

Amazing

2009-11-13T12:31:00.001-08:00

Amazing stories happen to other people.

Beta down, 148

If you build it...

2009-11-11T12:32:00.000-08:00

They will come.

That's what I told M this weekend as we put the final touches on the baby room for our home study. The baby room that had almost everything except the baby that should be two now.

It wasn't our finest moment, standing there in Babie.sRUs with scowls on our face on the actual date our son died two years ago. But we needed a crib mattress and some child proofing supplies. The misery blindsided both of us. We were so busy getting all the things done for yesterday's home study, we didn't think to take care of the Babie.sRUs stuff on a day that didn't feel so... so... significant.

Having the room finally done though and on the date two years later, it felt... right. I kept opening the door and basking it in. I spent time there yesterday morning in that chair, with a candle lit wishing things would have been different yet feeling as we did right by our son to finish what we started. Even if the current IVF cycle didn't work out, his stuff will be not go to waste. It won't sit in a box, in a room full of crap, behind a door that is never opened.

Yesterday I moved his wooden memory box and part of me felt wrong in doing so. Part of me told me it was time. I wasn't willing to share that with the home study lady. I am not willing to share it openly with others at all. It's for us, me and M. So it's in our closet now, placed with care.

The home study went really well. Our house looks better than it ever has. We got so many of the things we wanted to get done, done. It was with great pride we took her through our home. After she completed her checklist of safety items, we talked for a few hours. It was nice to sit and have people listen to your childhood stories and the things your parents did that you want or don't want to do. It wasn't so nice when she pointed out that I do one particular thing that I hated that my mother did. (To Do List Freaks Unite!)

All it all it went well. But the minute it was over... My mind was free to commence Beta Mindfuck Fall 2009. I didn't do any pee sticks, I just wait for today. Beta Day. I went from feeling a few days ago that it definitely worked, to no, all symptoms gone, failure.

This morning I relented, just so I would be ready.

Faint line. Fuck, seriously? Another chemical? I went back to bed. I figured I couldn't take work today, it was all too much.

I got up 3 minutes later and decided I needed to check it again and just get showered and do my progesterone hoo-ha insertion.

This is what I saw:

That's no faint line (sorry camera phone not so great). Not nearly as faint as the last two chemicals at least. Not as dark as the control line, but meh.

I went to work with a little bit of hope. I emailed my nurse and asked that she just email me with the results. Honestly because listening to her sad, I am so sorry voice, is just too much. She had today off though, but promised to email anyways especially since I told her about the HPT.

I have this theory, as many IF women do. They save all the shitty calls for the end of the day. So if you don't hear by 4pm, you are probably going to hear that so sorry voice. I get it too, make the fun calls first, then ruin people's lives (figuratively) second. Although, I might opt for the other way around so my day could end on a high note.

Anyways. I digress.

Beta in.

171. 10 days past 5 day transfer(10dp5dt) Or 15 dpo.

That's no chemical number. William's was 172 to start.

Back Friday. Please let it double. Cautious, ever so cautious optimism.

If you build it, they will come...

Hey, maybe that Ray Kinse.lla guy (Costner) was onto something.

ETA: Beta fell. See next post.

Gle.e

2009-10-22T13:10:00.001-07:00

I'm in the middle of the storm, not much to say. Beta is the same day as home study, I think... Awesome. I can't wrap my head around this "last attempt" thing. I chose a river in egypt for 1000, please.

So do any of you watch Gle.e? Fucking love that show. Hiliarious.

Crazy fake pregnant lady and pregnant teenage girl included.

Last week (not last night, no spoilers please, I need to watch it still). They sang my song. The song that stuck with me during those days after Nov 7th two years ago, when I was having trouble catching my breath, probably due to moderately bad anemia from all the shit my body was struggling with.

No Air. (losing you was like living in a world with no air...)

Since then I have been in this significant song cycle. On the radio, in stores, everywhere. Songs from that time mostly, with a few others creeping in. I heard one the other day that launched me right back to the old me.

16 years old, driving my truck around, not wanting to go home because I couldn't stop crying. My life as I knew it was over. My boyfriend had told me he "got together" with my friend during his prom. My mom hadn't let me go to the prom with him because I was "too young" so he took my friend. I was pissed at my mom, but it was OK, he was taking MY FRIEND. A week later he tells me they ended up as more than friends that night. I was a sobbing, crying mess, listening and singing loudly with the pained voice of Sinea.d (don't judge me, I loved her stuff). My eyes were swollen for days. I was there, in that blue truck, driving around, stopping at Ace Hard.ware (cuz Ace is the place with the helpful hardware man...). Why the fuck did I need to go there? No idea. A guy I knew was working the cash register. He asked me if I was ok. I said yes, full of shame, grabbed my bag and left. We are now friends on FB. But the guy and the friend? Fuck them both.

I remembered those hardcore "my life is over" feelings listening to that song like I was 16 again. That poor girl, she really had no idea what pain was. And you know, that's ok.

Clean up

2009-10-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

Well, if things look good, I will be starting stims soon. I cannot even express how excited I am to be off the birth control pills soon. A constant state of nausea is just wrong, especially since it's only there in preparation to try to get me pregnant, instead of actually being pregnant. One would think it would help me lose weight too... haha! Funny.

So we are concurrently moving through the final stages of licensing for Foster/Adopt. We have our home study early next month --- in the proposed two week wait. Not sure how I feel about that, but hey... why not?

I have found it oddly therapeutic to get the "baby" room closer to looking like a room a person (tiny human) could live in instead of the "catch all--- no, no, don't open that door" room. We have to buy a crib mattress soon. I may finish the entire room during the two year anniversary week. Not to torture myself, in theory, but to finish what was started but never finished when our son died. I even looked up the cribset to see if it was still being sold (it's not) and whether I could find the matching lamp (I can, on eba.y but I am too cheap the pay what they want for it). I also need to look up and see whether I can buy the crib conversion kit we opted out on when we bought it, just in case we get a toddler who needs a toddler bed instead of a full crib. I am not sure either of us are ready for the emotions involved in having it look like the beautiful nursery we had planned so lovingly two years ago. Especially if it remains empty with no placements for equally as long...

Anyways, that brings me to my question for you guys. I want to hire a house cleaner. I have wanted to for a long time. I am just not sure I can calm my worries about someone coming into my home to clean for me... On one hand, I can't fathom just sitting there while someone cleans my home, but I can't not be there (trust) and then, if she doesn't do it better than I would have, I will feel like I wasted $.

So, how do I pick someone? I was planning on looking through Crai.gslist but there's so many, it's overwhelming. I think part of my neurosis about this is also because we had one as a kid and it was torture!! We had to clean so much to prepare for the cleaning lady every week. Now, I see the value in that - you don't want to waste the time she is there with her picking up after you. I want her to do the deep cleaning.

For your help in this, I give you this:

Thanks :)

Sunshine, or lack thereof

2009-10-07T12:27:00.000-07:00

I am getting ready to do our final fresh IVF. It's seriously mindfucking me and not in the use warming KY jelly way. So I just don't know what to say here, there or anywhere. I just can't believe I am here.

Anyways. Two months ago, during my physical needed for Foster/Adopt - they found my Vitamin D levels to be pretty darn low. After reading about it, I can't say I am all that surprised. Two ankle breaks in two years... low energy... infertility.... PCOS... It's like going down a checklist of my life. So, they put me on an 8 week regimen of 50k dose of Vitamin D. I need to go in for my follow up bloodwork. After that, I will probably be on 2k-4k or so dosage daily. Incidentally, my husband's was low too. They skipped the 50k regime and put him directly on the 2k.

There are some interesting reports out there on this. Here is an article to read to get started. I would love to come out and say this has been a MIRACLE for me, but it hasn't... yet. Maybe it will. Maybe it will save my life, cardiovascularly and I will have never realized it. I don't know. I do suggest you do a little research though and ask for your doctor to put it on your fun list of tests to run next time you have bloodwork though.

It can't hurt, right?

Chemical, schmemical

2009-09-17T12:30:00.000-07:00

Just for the record - a faint line is probably not good on a pregnancy test. If you are here because you just googled VERY FAINT LINE HPT, then I am sorry. For me, it never means good things. Unless of course you pee the day after you have sex with your husband and already have 18 kids at home and your last name is Duggar... then a faint line probably meants your uterus is a clown car.

So yah, fuck. I am pissed as hell. I didn't outline my FET here simply because it was so mellow and I was most of the way through it before I realized I hadn't been posting. It was a natural FET - nice to just chill and wait for natural ovulation (with monitoring) and then transfer and then twice a day vagina pills.

Too bad it results in a 10dp5dt beta of 18.8.

We even bumped it up and transferred 3 this time. Silly me, I actually spent time worrying about whether all 3 would take and what we would do.

Do you hear that? Yes, that's the universe laughing at me.

I will say though, I went into it feeling hopeful and positive and it really helped. For a few weeks there, I let go of some of my bitterness and it was nice.

So we have one more Fresh and one frozen left in this Shared Risk program. Hurray!!

Fuck.

I am angry all over again at the shit fucking post partum care I got after the stillbirth of my son. The repeated need for D&C's - the infection - the doctor that told me "I have small asian hands, I will get the placenta out" - I should have kicked her in the face while she had her arm up to her armpit in my vagina.

We will go through the motions and hope for good results on the next IVF. In the meantime, I am researching gestational surrogacy. My RE told me my uterus "was as good as its going to get" after the last office hysteroscopy. Just bad luck, he said. I love this doctor, but I am not buying the Just Bad Luck bullshit cookies he is selling anymore. Bad luck for having that shitty ass post partum care that destroyed my uterus, maybe.

Bad luck because the only biological child I may ever have is spread across a lake.

I can't take any well meaning comments right now, I will probably lash out inappropriately. Please just leave cusswords and rants. And please, don't link me to LFCA, I can't handle any drive by gawking either.

No... well, maybe... perhaps

2009-08-26T13:24:00.000-07:00

"Does jerking off make you stronger?"

If you found your way here after searching this question, the answer is no. Well, maybe... perhaps.

Tiny update

2009-08-25T10:17:00.000-07:00

We finally sent in our Foster/Adopt application last week. We will see how it goes through the channels. They have 90 days to process us through.

As a result, we have been busting ass on home improvement. It's so nice, I love a clean, organized home with projects in progress again. Seriously, I got up at 8am on Saturday and reorganized the whole shed. Most of which I did before M was even awake.

I know the Fall and Winter are approaching and with it, the emotional sludge I have been ignoring with the summer. Trying to get pregnant, handling holidays, deathaversary, cold days where baking and soup making seems great but sad for just M and I. I refuse to acknowledge summer is over until the lake closes at the end of September.

Not much more to say. I am still about, commenting when I can, mostly from my phone (if you don't have a full content feed, sorry I haven't been neglecting you on purpose).

So, back by popular demand, I will conduct my blog in pictures for a bit. This is how I feel about the end of summer:

Discipline

2009-08-10T13:26:00.000-07:00

So, I wanted to mail our Foster application today, but we didn't get a chance to work through some answers together. Specifically, discipline.

WA State's policy gives the following list of what you CAN'T do, a lot of which just makes me sad, because these policies don't get made unless some foster parent already did it:

1. I will not use cruel, unusual, frightening, unsafe or humiliating discipline practices. These include but are not limited to:
a) Spanking children with a hand or object;
b) Biting, jerking, kicking, hitting, or shaking the child;
c) Pulling the child’s hair;
d) Throwing the child;
e) Purposely inflicting pain as a punishment;
f) Name calling, using derogatory comments;
g) Threatening the child with physical harm;
h) Threatening or intimidating the child; or
i) Placing or requiring a child to stand under a cold water shower.

2. I will not use methods that interfere with a child’s basic needs. These include, but are not limited to:
a) Depriving the child of sleep;
b) Providing inadequate food, clothing, living space or shelter;
c) Restricting a child’s breathing;
d) Interfering with a child’s ability to take care of their own hygiene and toilet needs; or
e) Providing inadequate medical or dental care.

3. I will not use methods that deprive a child of necessary services. These include, but are not limited to, contacting;
a) The assigned social worker;
b) The assigned legal representative;
c) Parents or other family members who are identified in the case plan; or
d) Individuals providing the child with therapeutic activities as part of the child’s service plan.

4. I will not use medications in an amount or frequency other that that prescribed by a physician or psychiatrist.

5. I will not use medications for a child that have been prescribed for someone else.

Did I tell you the story about the child that was put in respite for the weekend? Respite is in place to give foster parents a break, vacation or whatnot. When the kid was dropped off, the foster parent told the respite worker here is his medication, give him one [periodically] through the day or he will get out of control. The foster parent left for her weekend away.

The medication? Benadryl.

Stories like that made it so you can't even give a foster kid a vitamin without a doctor prescription.

Poor kids.

So tell me, sweet, sweet readers. What are your discipline practices for children in the 6 month to 7 year old age range?

(Can you even discipline a 6 month old? Besides, um, no, please, please stop yanking my hair out of my head!!)

Do you think...

2009-08-07T15:04:00.000-07:00

Do you think a mammogram would affect a FET cycle?

We are working through all of our Foster/Adopt program stuff. By tonight we will be CPR/First Aid licensed. Fancy!

We will submit our application with everything we needed next week. Yipee!

Today we had physicals. Fun!

Oops, found a lump. Off to mammy land. Good times!

Hahahahaha hahahahaha Of course.

PS: I am really not too worried about the lump. I have been told that I am "lumpy" in the past. Cyst, gland, whatever. Lalalalalalalala!

On and on

2009-07-20T12:42:00.000-07:00

In the middle years of my college education, I began down the path of a Child Development Major. I am not exactly sure how I went from marine biology, to cellular and molecular biology, to Child Development, but I did... for a while. It was easy, I wrote well and it was just plain interesting. Taking a break from calculus, physics and biology, I fell into a rhythm in the child development and psychology classes. I spent a while there, took those classes and a photography class and just cruised along. I took much longer in college than I should have because of those classes because at some point, the ease and the writing lost out to the job I found that was fast and challenging.

I haven't even thought about my Child Development days much, except when I spout off some unsolicited information about the developmental stage of someones child and, "it's pretty normal for that age" comes rolling out of my mouth. When the "how could you possibly know" look gets shot back with eye daggers, I mumble about my background. Not that it helps, because you know, I can't possibly understand.

When I was sitting in my Foster Parent training course on Thursday night, I remembered. I learned this shit about developmental ages for intellect, social/emotional and physical in the context of normalcy. I had to do work outside of the classroom and group work (the group work is probably what blew me out of it - I despise it). I remember sitting in that daycare, quietly making notes about the children and what they did for the hours on end I sat there. If I was so inclined, I could probably dig up the massive paper that was written.

But you see, listening in class about these kids that are in the foster system, the majority of them have been neglected, this is where we really should have been learning about the developmental stages. A kid that comes into care at age 8, after abuse and neglect, he looks 5 or 6, is reading at a 1st grade level and who reacts emotionally at an infant level. Taking care of his basic needs will help this boy move progressively, perhaps faster than any "normal" kid through the developmental stages towards where he "should" be.

I have two more classes before the training is done. I have gone from feeling miserable that I have to go this route to be a parent, to feeling like even if our IF treatments work, I want to be there for some of these kids. We have the room, we have the time, sure it won't be easy, but maybe the time I spent in as a Child Development major was preparing me for this. We can make a difference in these kids lives, even if they are just here for 2 days, 2 weeks or 2 years.

That's how I feel today after 3 classes with two more to go. These kids need our help. I just don't know that I can handle the bureaucracy of the system. The push for reunification to parents who aren't forced to take the same parenting classes we are. Parents who abused these kids, specifically reunification with sexual abusers. And I have learned, if I can't let go of that anger and discontent, I can't really help those kids at all.

Time will tell, I guess.

H T

2009-07-08T07:13:00.000-07:00

Before the Foster care orientation meeting in May, we had to rush and grab a bite because the class was from 5-9pm. We stopped off to get somewhat healthy, non fast food fast food from a local Taco place. Light chicken taco and a couple of ice teas.

I wrapped up M's taco (really, burrito, how they wrap it, but they call it a taco) and handed it to him to eat while we battled traffic. Then I started in on mine. Pretty good stuff, I guess. Beats going to Subw.ay yet again. A few bites in, I find a hair. Hmm. Under normal circumstances I would have discarded, but knowing we were about to be trapped in a room for 4 hours, I was worried the raging, low blood sugar bitch might appear. So I pulled it out and kept eating.

Let me interject here and tell you, I think I should win some award for finding hairs in my food at restaurants. Maybe I should stop looking at my food so closely. Seriously though, my brother in law makes fun of me because everytime we eat together, my food has hair. He likes it though, good to know I got the hair and not him...

Anyways, we are cruising down the road and I am trying not to think about the hair in my food. I am almost done and ... well, you guessed it.... another hair. Ok, that's too much, even for me.

So, I throw it away, we arrive and head in. I had a tiny little notebook out and ready to take productive notes in. However, I ended up taking notes for blog posts. I made little notations about people coming in and then turned to M and said:

"Oh and I can't forget to note that this evening started out with a Hair.y Taco"

M flushed bright red and shushed me. Told me to not be so loud. Hmm, whatever.

The evening progressed and I kept taking notes, a few more times I mentioned Hair.y Taco to M and again get shushed. I thought, settle down M, no one cares that I had hair in my dinner.

Close to the end, I went back through my notes making sure I noted all the amusing things and not so amusing things (pregnant ass crack). I realized I forgot to note the Hair.y Taco. So I made a small notation at the top of page 1. When I looked at what I just wrote, I gasped.

I turned to M and said, OMG, HA.IRY TACO!!! in a guarded whisper, followed by shaking silent laughter that shook the table.

M just shook his head at me, sick of my antics.

I looked at him and whispered, holy shit I just figured out why you were shushing me. HAIR.Y TACO, bahahahahaha

At that point, M and I couldn't look at each other for fear of falling on the ground, crying with laughter. Him, because I JUST got what I was saying and me because, well fuck, that shit is funny. Hair.y Taco.

Tears flowed from my eyes and dirty looks were shot at us from all angles, including the head lady in the back watching over the speakers. I just hope to hell none of those women end up being a case worker or our home study person. We are fucked, if so.

I mean, there's no easy way to explain the Hair.y Taco.

Daydreams

2009-07-07T07:35:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was a kid, I had this coping mechanism, or boredom fighter, or tool to get to sleep. I have mentioned it before. My day dreaming, my goals... Life as a skinny girl (not yet), life after high school (check), life in college (check, but not how I imagined it), life at work (I am not a marine biologist...), my wedding day (check and it was awesome), my honeymoon (Jamaica mon), buying a house (check again, but way later than I imagined), spending lottery winnings (recurrent), having children (uh).

Now, as I float along wondering what to do with myself, the daydreams are gone. No gratification in the lottery winning one anymore. What's all that money without a family of my own to share it with? Besides, there would be too many people standing with their hands open. The babies/children one, well duh. That one hurts too much, because the light at the end of the tunnel is basically just a night light now. Still lit a little bit, but no big TA DA!!

As much as I try to not let IF and babyloss define me, it does at my core. Sure, my husband and I are fun people, just add booze. Be careful though, if you add to much you get to see the hurt at the core.

Friday night was like that. I did well, but I ended up in the bathroom with a girl who was crying. I was comforting, I held her hair while she puked (and surprisingly enough, it didn't start a barfarama). I kept my shit together. But shortly after she left our cabin, the bitterness and sadness took over. I had just spent an hour listening to her whine and cry about the stupidest shit, her boyfriend of 13 years didn't want to get married, she wanted to have babies before it got too late, etc.

Once upon a time I would have had compassion and while I did a great job faking it, like Cinderella, the clock struck .... uh, 3am? and I turned into a pumpkin. A crying, sobbing, pumpkin. Lucky for me, only to my brother in law's girlfriend, unluckily for her.

A certain amount alcohol can bring a little bit of me back, the carefree, likes to make people laugh person. But there's always the tipping point, where I keep drinking and the alcohol sheds all my layers and leaves me exposed, raw and in pain, no matter how well I tried to hide it.

After nights like that, I allow the coping mechanism back in, I daydream of babies again. Of trying again, of letting hope in. If not because it was like a reset switch, but because I am looking forward to the complete sobriety TTC brings. The hope lets me daydream that one day, we won't always be the fun, drunken couple people have grown accustomed to. I don't want us to be the older, childless couple who are always just a little pathetic because they can drink the college kids under the table.

I just want a little normal. But I don't know how to fill the void until that day arrives. Maybe, I need to give myself a few more daydreams back.

Confessions...

2009-06-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

- When I drive in my car and someone does something stupid, I have the mouth of a fucking sailor. Complete with flipping the bird, yelling, you name it.
- Sometimes after a tirade as described above, I smile and then have a good day.
- Many Sundays I don't shower. Or change my clothes. But I do put a bra on.
- I let M from A Uterus Divided hug me. Twice.
- M's son did more work than me that day:

- He was the first baby I have held since I don't know when. The little shit pulled my hair... hard. I still wanted to steal him.
- I like to drink my vodka with diet soda, less calories. Too bad I counteract it with shitty food the next day...
- Working out and eating like a champ for 4 days, followed by too much of the above = +1 pound, doh
- I literally get angry and look around for the offender when I hear someone whistling loudly indoors. The guy standing in line for the ATM yesterday almost got pummelled. The only person that likes the whistling is the whistler.
- I watched a little kid wait while his dog shit in my neighbors lawn yesterday and I didn't yell at him, even though I have similarly accosted 3 of my neighbors.
- I text when I drive sometimes. Hell, I post FB status updates too.
- At least once a week I listen to Pete.r Gabri.el's I Gri.eve while working out and I put myself right back to November 6th & 7th. My sweat masks the tears that come out less and less as time goes on.
- I pee in the shower... don't tell my husband
- I also clean the bathtub naked, then get in and use it. (Sidebar - did any of you see the last episode of Nurse Jac.kie? haha)
- My husband is getting even better looking with age and I am jealous.
- I have unfriended people on Facebo.ok. What right is it of theirs to be my friend just because they remember my name from High School? Voyeurs!
- I want to program my GPS to say things like, WTF DUMBASS! You missed the turn!! Fuck, Recalculating...
- I think my blog has become a boring, sad place and it doesn't give me the comfort it once did.
- But I still feel like I can tell you guys more than I can tell my RL friends and family.

OH

2009-06-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

OH! Or Office Hysteroscopy went fine on Friday. It was one of those things where I wouldn't be happy with any outcome, really. Nothing special found = no reason for failed IVF besides bad luck (oh Mr. Bad Luck, go away) or septum/scarring = more surgery.

"Your uterus is as good as it's going to get..." Then he waited for me to reply and I just stared at him. Well, Bad Luck it is.

What's that saying? If it weren't for Bad Luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all? Yah, fuck off.

So, we are going to do a FET probably in August. Taking June & July off for working out, drinking some beer, letting the stims completely leave my system, enjoying the summer. He wants to do a Natural FET, which means just monitoring my cycle and transferring after I ovulate on my own. I may have some work travel to schedule, so we may have to go with the Hormone Replacement FET in order to time appropriately.

Guess what I am doing today? If you guessed Dr. Googling Natural vs Hormone Replacement FET until my brain explodes, you would be correct! This is where I ask you to interject your FET experience, if you had one, and offer me assvice.

My biggest challenge over the next month and a half (besides getting my ass to the gym) is to let it go... Let go of my obsessive thinking, googling, mindfucking about my next cycle... It's really hard because when I stop thinking about moving forward, I realize I am stuck. Stuck right here where sadness over where we are at, what we have been through, the fact that we may never get what we want, creeps in. It's a neverending battle in my brain. TTC for years at least offers you another cycle, and another one after that. Seeing a light at the end of this tunnel doesn't bring me relief. That light down there is terrifying.

Next thing on my list

2009-06-02T08:04:00.000-07:00

Start living.

This probably outs me as a country music fan, but I heard this song again this morning and it speaks volumes as to where we are emotionally right now.

I already had the ground work plans in my head, you know, just in case this cycle failed. A couple months off, lose some weight, get my head screwed back on, drink some tasty libations, plan trips to see family and friends finally, because it's mostly impossible to do these things when you are cycling...

And getting my edge back at work is paramount, how is June here already?

In terms of my quest for a baby, I wait for the bleed to start, then it's in the RE stirrups again to check out the scarring in my uterus. I don't know if I hope to hear it's ok, no more invasive stuff to correct it, or if I hope we find a problem to fix and give me back my hope. We will see. Then come Fall, we will do a FET, I imagine. I have 1 more Fresh Cycle and 2 FETs left on my Shared Ri.sk program. That's if they don't kick me out for being such a failure.

I am scheduled for Foster parenting training in July. I hope I keep this appointment, I chickened out on the last one.

But today, the next thing on my list, is to start living.

Stop

2009-05-30T17:11:00.001-07:00

Jane's Addic.tion's song Stop has been passively rolling through my brain since Thursday. Just a few minutes ago, I finally got the news to go ahead and Stop. No more 6am PIO shots.

Beta went down to 39 from 40. No low beta miracles happen around here.

It's time to Stop everything for a while.

Remove me from your mailing list

2009-05-29T12:49:00.000-07:00

Dear old college roommate,

Our friendship has been spotty at best since that day you moved out to follow that guy. Which was understandable, but sucked as you left the rest of us roommates to not only cover your portion of the rent, but to also find a new co-signer for the house. Water under the bridge now.

Do you remember when you cried to me on my wedding day because you showed up late and missed the ceremony? I am still very sorry that for the first time in my life, I showed up on time. You still made it to the reception though, that's the important part, right?

Remember when you got married and I notified you I couldn't fly the two states to attend your wedding because we didn't have the money at the time? Do you also remember not talking to me for MONTHS because of this? Then never sending me a Thank You card for your wedding gift? I reached out to you and you attacked me via email about how much I hurt you, not showing up. Hell, I saved the email, this 6 or so years later. Would you like to read again how cruel you were to me? How self centered you were, telling me despite the inability to buy two plane tickets there, we still should have made it?

We kept in touch in spite of the repeated self centeredness you displayed. I feel obligated, as roommates we went through a lot together. I thought our friendship was worth the effort.

But do you also remember how you sent me lovely flowers when my son died? I as really touched by them, sent after the rest had died, the lilies lasted a long time and warmed our hearts.

Sometime after, I sent you an email, just reaching out because grief can be such a lonely mindfuck. You told me how your friend went through THE EXACT SAME THING and it would be ok, my uterus was now stretched out enough, I would do ok with my next baby. And maybe, we will even be pregnant together as you were planning to start trying for your second baby soon! Do you remember that I replied and told you that I doubt it was the exact same thing and that it was OK to talk about things with me, not to avoid me, I could filter out the things I didn't want to hear.

Do you remember? Because I haven't received an email or phonecall from you since. It's been a year and a half. You haven't even friended me on the stupid ass Face.book, even though you have friended my childhood friend that I introduced to you... You have done a pretty good job carving me out of your life.

So why, pray tell, do you send me mail with pictures of your children? The first time, you sent me two wallet photos of your firstborn. What am I supposed to do with those? The photo Christmas cards are nice too, thanks for introducing me to the little girl I will most likely never meet in real life. But this birth announcement, sent to me now, of your second child... Well, I have to say that's just plain rude and hurtful.

You never contact me, but I know you know that I still have yet to have a take home baby. You may not be aware of my miscarriages, surgeries and failed IVFs, but you KNOW I am childless, you may even know I may never have my own bio child. But still, you send this...

Please, for the love of all things, remove me from your fucking mailing list and go the fuck away once and for all.

Thanks so much,
G

PS - I say this you here, because sending it to you directly would create a world of drama that I just don't have the energy for. Yet, I still can't be mean enough to throw away the picture of your daughter, she has no idea how fucking insensitive you are... yet.

Beta Hell

2009-05-28T14:58:00.000-07:00

At 10dp5dt, or 15 dpo, it's only 40, it should be more like 100. I knew it was going to come in low considering the ghosting I had on some HPT, when it should have been a lot stronger. Also, no symptoms, even the nausea I had has all but gone away. I go back on Saturday to see if it doubles.

Not excited, not at all. Been here in low beta hell before, in October and it was devastating. I don't need any low beta success stories, I searched them all out in October when I actually had hope for that pregnancy.

I had my big crying breakdown yesterday, knowing how this would turn out. Had to work from home today, my eyes were so swollen. Today I am just numb, wondering about the damage that was done to my uterus after my stillbirth. The aggressive D&C's to remove the persistent "products of conception." I think maybe I am broken forever.

This is really not the way I thought my life would turn out.

Anxiety

2009-05-19T09:44:00.000-07:00

I am struggling whether to write here or not. I am riddled with anxiety and it's due in part to other people knowing or expending any energy thinking or hoping for success in this cycle for us.

It seems that bottling it up and ignoring it though, means I wake up in the wee hours and am unable to sleep. I have been able to make it through my cycle ignoring it to the best of my ability, not fully committing to it emotionally. I cancelled the Foster classes for now and I have plans of checking out completely for 3 months if this fails. But once we got to the transfer yesterday, 2 "good" embryos and 5 in the freezer - way better than last cycle, I was unable to stay detached. My husband is excited. He sent me this scan, comparing yesterday's embryos to the embryos from last cycle:

(yes, I wrote them a note last go round)

Can you see why he is so excited? Don't get me wrong, I am happy the quality has improved. But with his excitement and my uterus, I am riddled with anxiety. If they don't stick around (one or both) then I will have failed them, my uterus, things I did, etc. Irrational, I know that even with the most beautiful embryos (these were AB and BB, so good, but still not "excellent) there aren't any guarantees. Also, in IVF 2, there isn't the feeling of it being a test run. We just have to hope that after everything, my uterus can hug them and keep them there.

I am an anxious mess. We are heading off to the lake tomorrow for fishing and relaxing. I just hope my brain gets the message. But all the parallels from two years ago may rattle me. Also, the friends we are meeting there put up a memorial sign at the spot on the lake where we spread William's ashes. It's a surprise they plan to show me, but my husband told me already. Glad he did.

I'm sorry I am sporadic about posting and asstastic about commenting.

Radio Silence

2009-05-13T10:52:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posting. I am quietly making it through this IVF cycle.

Special thanks again to K@laky for the slippers. Great retrieval - 28 eggs retrieved. Still staying mellow, hoping for good fertilization and quality.

I will post with more substance soon.
xo
g

Orientation

2009-04-30T12:12:00.000-07:00

So, on a more serious note, the Fost/Adopt orientation was ok. I am such a researcher that I already had read all of the county's site on fostering and had spend more than a few hours reading through fostering forums and blogs. There were about 30+ people there and I was pleasantly surprised that most of them seemed pretty "normal" to me.

As you may or may not already know from reading this blog, I don't have a lot of patience. Sitting in a room for 4 hours, not just 4 hours, but 5 to 9pm - dinner, shots and sleepy time for me on a normal night, was a real struggle for me. M said to me, remember in Amazin.g Race, they kept saying, "Don't cry Uncle" during the chinese foot massage - we will have to go through this from the beginning some other time.

I didn't cry Uncle when the Russian group chatted over the speakers the whole time
I didn't cry Uncle when the speaker went over each and every question on the various applications (I guess people need this kind of hand holding?)
I didn't cry Uncle when people kept asking out of left field "hypothetical" questions - hypothetical my ass.
I didn't cry Uncle when someone wanted to know if they had to get their neighbor's information if they live in an Apartment Complex.
I didn't cry Uncle when someone asked how much money you had to make in order to apply (The answer is more than zero, enough to support your household *without* foster money)
I didn't cry Uncle when a woman explained that she had moved here from CA ten years ago and couldn't possibly provide 4 character references from WA people... because WA people just aren't that nice (and I held back my SO MOVE BACK comment, aren't you proud? Hey, I moved here from CA too, get over it...)
I didn't cry Uncle when the Russian guy kept walking back to his group to get their answers to the applications he was filling out, while the speaker was talking
And, as you know...
I didn't cry Uncle when I spent the better part of 3 hours with pregnant girl ass crack staring at me.

M and I also realized that sarcastic humor probably didn't fit in. We quietly said to each other things like:

"We need to hurry and get home so I can shoot up - Wait, will that affect our application?"
"If I tell those chatty ladies over there, I keel u! STFU! - will that affect our application?"
"They want us to detail how we were disciplined as kids - do you think "the look" and "yelled at" will affect our application? How about coat hangers and waterboarding?"

I am sure the people on our table hated us, because half the time I spent laughing silently but shaking, which shook the table. Oops... (FYI in case you are reading this and are thinking we are total idiots - we really weren't making light of the situation, we were just trying to get through, but yes, we probably are sarcastic idiots... will that affect our application?)

So we made it through, we have our certification that we did this part. We can move onto the 27 hour pre-service training. When I say we, I mean ME, because almost no classes are offered during a non work day. Which I totally don't get, but OK. So I signed up for a Friday/Saturday course in June. I am not feeling fully committed to it right now though, because you know - where will my mind be in June after finishing an IVF cycle? May postpone to August...

I know the 27 hours of training will help me decide if this is for us, so I am just going to float with the feelings I have right now. I know we have the time, the love and the home to provide to kids that really need it. I just don't know how well I will deal with some of the shitty parents we are bound to run into. Statistically speaking many of these kids have probably been abused or neglected. That part breaks my heart and makes me want to do whatever I can to help them. It's the powerlessness that comes along with it that I am not sure I can hang with. You know, if they work to reunify a child back to a home that I think isn't ready yet, or perhaps never will be, or to a parent that just needs to be punched in the throat... egads.

For now though, M and I are open to it. We know it won't be easy, hell for us, if we can get through the classes, the applications and the home study, we will have won part of the battle. I can't begin to explain how hard it is for me to sit in a classroom environment that moves incredibly slow and have classmates that have less than sincere motives.

We will keep moving forward with it and we'll see. It does feel good to have something other than IVF going on. And when they ran the video of how the home study goes, M and I both perked up when they got to the baby room. We have all that stuff, just sitting there, collecting dust. I imagined finishing out the nursery that was stopped a year and a half ago. Opening the closed door, cleaning it out and using the room we never go into sounds pretty good and for now, that's enough to get us to the next step in this process.

Crack

2009-04-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

I did take notes. I didn't draw pictures though... because one image was BURNED INTO MY FUCKING BRAIN:

I used my mad skillz this morning to show you our experience at the Fost/Adopt meeting.. Not kidding.

How does someone show that much ass over her jeans and NOT feel the breeze?

I am still recovering. More later.

Until then, riddle me this... What does it mean when 1 Russian guy shows up with 6 Russian women. They sit in back and chat in Russian the whole time, while he sits up front and fill out their applications.

I am still puzzled...

IVF #2

2009-04-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

I keep wavering on whether I want to go through the IVF motions on my blog or not this time. One thing is for sure, I am not feeling that giddy excitement that I had last time.

While laying back with the dil.do cam doing its magic, I waited for bad news. Sorry, a cyst or ten to postpone my cycle, so I could pop up and say, "That's ok! I didn't want to do it now anyways!" Visuals of beer and fishing and sunshine entered my head. But alas, my suppression check was good. I will start stims soon.

And I feel very Meh about it. I want to give this cycle hope, but even letting possible due dates and trimester dates as a result of this cycle pop into my head kept me from getting a good night's rest last night. In the place of hope is anxiety and blah-ness. Maybe step by step, day by day, dild.ocam by dild.ocam I will release this protective barrier I have on my heart. I know it doesn't help anyways.

We also have Fost/Adopt orientation this week. At the very least, it will be a good people watching experience. I have heard that the potential foster parents pool is a different, interesting mix. I will take notes, draw pictures and report back.

Only if you don't wish me good luck for this cycle. That creeps me out.

As seen on....

2009-04-22T07:48:00.000-07:00

My husband and I have a problem. We love to try out the As See.n On TV shit. Seriously, we should just shred our money, it would be more useful. But here's my review:

Smoot.h Aw.ay - If you like rubbing your legs or crotch area with sandpaper, you are going to love this shit! I tried it out on my legs. It worked! One little portion of my short ass leg took a billion times longer than shaving, but hey, the product did what it said. M offered to get out the sander though, maybe the automation would make it faster...

Pedipa.ws - Basically a dremmel tool with less power... It is also conveniently shaped like a big ass dil.do and in fact, sounds and vibrates like one. Which may make it worth the money since when you turn it on, your dog runs for the hills. I know, I know, I knew my dog wouldn't be game, but he hates having his toes trimmed, it was a last ditch effort. I was able to put one of his toes in for half a second, he got lots of love and treats. The next time I turned it on, he spazzed around the house, happy dog! happy dog! He lets me rub it on him, but not near his toes. Oh well, dog massager or dil.do it is.

Pedieg.g - This has spent the last year under my sink, unopened. It's just a cheese grater on your feet. The commercial makes me gag everytime they empty the container, just knowing all that shit is grated foot... My friend loves it, even though the first time she used it, she got a little carried away and had scabs on her feet.... so yah, I am scared to use it. Instead, I pay the ladies at the salon to manhandle my feet once a month.

Sla.p Ch.op - Ok, I think we bought this mainly because the guy says "check out my nuts" in the commercial - don't worry we bought it far before he was arrested for beating some woman. Anyways... It works. Not kidding. I used to cut up veggies for my chili. It does kind of man handle the veggies, mash, mash, mash. The claim that you won't cry doing onions is totally false, the mashing of the onion actually makes it worse than using a knife, like, your whole kitchen will make people cry upon entering. It's not too bad, but alas, I would rather chop chop with a knife (when I say "I" I mean "M") than use it.

Egg Peeler Contraction - We're idiots. Who buys this shit? We do. We have yet to use it, but just as soon as I boil some eggs we will... It's the size of a blender though and takes up precious cabinet space. I may unload it to Good.will before M gets a chance to realize how lame it is...

Shoe.s Un.der - I just bought this and haven't taken it out of the box yet. But really, I can't see how this can go wrong. Did I mention the huge shoe sale is this weekend? I may need a few more of those badboys.

Tops.y Tur.vy - Next up on my to buy list. I read that these things pump out tomatoes like it's going out of style. I am all over that. I crave tomatoes all the time, I always ask for double tomato on my sammishes, if people set aside their tomatoes, I ask "are you gonna eat that?"... Ahhhhhh just talking about tomatoes makes me want one right now!

O.xyClean washer ball & dryer balls & spray stain remover - My husband loves this guy. So we try out all the shit. They seem to work ok, I guess. But the problem is refills... so basically we used them until they are empty and say, Meh...

Spac.eBags - I bought these probably 3 years ago. They suck. Suck some major ass. The zipper does not stay closed if you move them at all. Maybe it was just the first generation and they are better now. I love the concept and still have a couple with blankets and stuff in them, but they aren't as small and airtight as promised.

Lastly, the Green Prod.uce bags - Now those are worth your money. Not kidding. I put veggies in those (when I remember) and shit stays fresh for amazingly long times. It's beautiful produce time (seriously did you see Allison's post?) - get these bags and keep that shit lovely as long as possible.

So, how in the hell do we buy so many ASonTV stuff if we use a DVR and never watch commercials? No fucking idea. Could be late night insomnia infomercials... but nah, we haven't bought Xten.z...

Can you tell I am avoiding all talk about my upcoming IVF cycle?

Richie Rich

2009-04-14T08:12:00.000-07:00

It's strange how sometimes I start a post and it ends up being completely different. My last post wasn't meant to be so sad, the weekend wasn't really all that bad. I think it reflected what I have been battling through my painted on happy face though.

In fact, I think my behavior lately, agreeing to things I normally wouldn't (and then not freaking out or complaining about it) and my lack of motivation to meet important deadlines is probably a reflection that I am struggling emotionally. I am usually so passionate, well some may call it bitchy, about things. Not so much lately.

I come to work. I close my office door. I work on the brainless stuff and I struggle with the brainy work. I go home, I make dinner, I watch tv. I go to bed. What's the point of it all, really?

We had 3 teenagers stay at our house (and their mom, and M's brother who is dating her). They are cool kids, I mentioned them from this summer... not living the easy life and for some reason, we all just click.

M and I stood in the kitchen with them. The youngest was talking our ears off. Then he said:

"One day, I want to live in a house like this. I want to be rich"

M and I looked at each other, stunned. Our 1950s ranch style house is by no means rich. We have worked hard on it, to bring back its luster. But the kitchen is still original and needs a major overall, as does the bathroom. Furniture and stuff though, well I guess you could say, we want for nothing. We go out and buy something when we want it (and our lack of a hefty savings speaks to it).

But these boys, they are used to so much less and I forgot that. I mean, I remembered when I was cleaning and getting ready for them to come over, aka my level of scrubbing was lower than most visitors.

I looked at them, with those looks on their faces, kind of awe, kind of jealousy, kind of shame.

"Well, we aren't rich by any means guys. We don't have 3 kids to support, it's just us and the dog"

I wonder now if saying that made it better or worse for them. I felt like it was better, them knowing how badly we want kids just by how much attention we spend on them. To me, I was saying, I would trade all these for some kids, but I don't know if they understood that. I hope I didn't make them feel guilty that their mom didn't have all this shit because of them.... nevermind, I am overthinking.

One good thing from this weekend too (besides our Wi.i getting more use in a 24 hour period than it has had since we bought it), was that I think M and I are beginning to realize that we might do some good with fostering. And in fact, maybe we should consider older kids like these boys too.

We'll see.

44

2009-04-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I am feeling bad, struggling to free my mind from sadness, I am humbled by another. I get so wrapped up feeling as though this awful thing, or series of things now, happened to ME. I am like the grim reaper walking along and people should be able to look at me and know I am broken.

Then I talk to someone, read something, hear a story and I realize, despite all that has happened, I should really cherish this life, the only one I have. When I am in the middle of my brain rattling off all the injustices I have had to endure, reality smacks me and says, Get the fuck over it. Comparing grief and hurt and pain is stupid and I need to have more compassion for strangers, friends and family. Although sometimes I wonder, where is their compassion for me?

This weekend I went to a family event at the church with my inlaws (by the way, the Church didn't burst into flames when I entered... Miracles do happen!). 44 inlaws.... it was probably closer to 50. I prepared for weeks, telling myself I needed to enjoy the kids while they were still kids. I hid behind my camera mostly and had enough room to wander off it I wanted to.

It didn't rock me to my core when M's nephew walked up and tried to hand me his 17 day old son. It didn't even rattle me too much when M's oldest sister asked if we were still trying. (Or, more specifically said, I don't know if it's politically correct or not to ask, but, are you guys still trying?? - to which I replied, it has nothing to do with politics, it is personal and I don't want to talk about it) Even when she started crying and my husband worried about where I wandered off to, I was OK. Just another holiday that celebrates these beautiful children that his family has been able to bring forth.

M's mom looked at me right as we were leaving and said, Look at what I started... Indeed. Look at the wonderful children that you birthed, who have since birthed and in 2 cases, have since had their own grandchildren. 50 people as a result of the 8 she brought forth into the world, not to forget the babies and grandbabies taken far too early. Yes, it's pretty amazing what she created.

Look at all she created, and all that I have not and never will.

Humbleness and compassion, help me.

Drugs, mmmkay

2009-04-09T08:07:00.001-07:00

The teenager in the house kitty corner to ours is selling drugs.

How would I know?

Many, many cars - FRIENDS - come and visit him. Most of the time, he gets in their cars, they drive down the road, they come back, he gets out and they drive away. Sometimes he just gets in their car and back out without moving. Sometimes they knock at the fence, hand him something, he hands it back and they leave.

The thing is, I don't want to do anything about it. I've met the kid, he is nice enough. All the people coming to his house are teenagers. And once upon a life I lived long ago, I lived with a guy who did the same thing. For that reason alone, my conscience has said, leave it alone. It will work itself out.

Meanwhile, I watch. We have sheer curtains, they can't see me watching. The dad drives away and a few minutes later, the stream of cars starts.

Last week, the neighbor right next door and I talked. Well, when I say talked, I mean, I went over there to confront her. We have a huge redwood tree in our front yard, it's on the edge of her property and the branches on one side hang over her driveway, ruining her cars with sap she says. I know she hates the tree, the previous owners told us that. It's a beautiful, old, old gorgeous tree, it's going no where.

I came home and M was red with rage. Apparently some branches had been cut - which was fine, they hang over her property, she is well within her rights to do that. But, the branches were thrown into our backyard. M found the branches when he was helping her daughters get their dog out of our backyard. (She jumps over sometimes) He calmly helped them and got them Barbie bandaids for the wounds they had trying to climb the fence to get their dog. But he was raging.

So I went over and had a conversation with her about it. We are good neighbors, her daughters love us, hell I like them borrow my pooper scooper, we buy all their fundraising shit. She claimed that she didn't do it... The wind might have done it.

Mmmmkay. I believe her, I guess. Although I think someone did it FOR her. Her brother, the neighbor that's been trying to get in her pants, whatever.

While I was talking to her, she said: I think those kids are selling drugs. I said, Oh I don't know, they are teenagers, they have a lot of friends. I really believed that.

But since that conversation, I have seen enough to know better.

Not my deal though, I will let her and the other neighbors handle it. Probably not the most responsible thing of me, but what can I say?

What would you do? Understand that these kids have already messed with her after she told them not to park right behind her driveway. Guess where they all park? You betcha. Teenagers....

Grades

2009-04-07T16:20:00.000-07:00

We met with my doctor to go over what went wrong with our last cycle.
It boils down to egg quality. He ponied up that we transferred a grade BB and a grade BC, which aren't great. (AA being the best) Yes, I did drill him on the fact that he told me they don't grade. Suddenly they do. I still love this Doctor, but we are nearing the end of the road. He gave me a hug on the way out. It was ackward, because I am an ackward hugger.

Half of me feels like that's just their answer, blame me and my eggs. Half of me is starting to think, wow, I really am broken. Then I wonder whether William was genetically normal, considering. We never had him tested.

So next cycle we are upping my dosage. Last time, I started at 300 Follistim and 75 menopur (5 lupron) and was up'd to 375. This time we are starting me at 400 Follistim from day 1. He wanted to go balls out and hit me with 450. I expressed my concerns that the bump from 300 to 375 on Day 5 had me ready to trigger pretty quickly thereafter. He argued that my ending E2 was still only 1300ish, he wants it in the 2k-4k range. He feels I am not at risk for hyperstimming. We met halfway on the 400. I might back down before stim day and just do as I am told.

He also mentioned we may want to transfer more next time. Seriously, more? My body killed 1 at 26 weeks. Sure, I know I had surgery to fix that, but fuck that's scary. Select.ive redu.ction would have to be an option, I can handle the thought, the husband isn't so sure. More heart breaking decisions.

I am rambling. My brain and my heart hurts. This shit sucks so bad. I am sick of having my life on pause, watching as others pass me by. And now I need to hurry and stop writing and letting tears flow, it upsets M too much.

ETA: My FSH is 5.7, normal, good even. I had 7 8 cells on Day 3 (great!). Doc did say egg quality can sometimes be a crap shoot at my age.

Going through the motions

2009-04-02T13:38:00.000-07:00

Emotions in the oceans. Oops, what was I talking about again?

We are set up for the Foster orientation the day after my suppression check in late April. M isn't fully on board yet, but we will check it out and see how we feel after 4 hours of info. If anyone has info/assvice, I would appreciate it. I waver between absolutely wanting to foster and thinking my personality might not be a good fit for the case workers and parents. When I say not a good fit, I mean my sharp, German ancestry may rear its ugly head.

Then there's the dog. He could care less about babies. But less tolerant of high strung kids of walking age that pester him to his breaking point. That will limit us, but that's probably ok. Plus we have almost fully set up baby room. Dresser, changing table, crib. Just a few last things and it could serve as a respite for a baby. But, if the dog is the deciding factor of "no" then we will know we tried.

For now it feels good to have something other than IVF/TTC/PunchingPeopleInTheThroat to think about. Besides, I can probably get M to finish up some projects if we make it to homestudy time. Muhaha all part of my master plan.

Stereo

2009-03-31T15:48:00.001-07:00

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep, my husband snored loudly on one side and my dog snored quietly on the other (down on his bed). Stereo snoring snapped me back awake for a moment. I was suddenly fearful of the time slipping by. Both of them are getting older and time is running out. M was sick, food poisoning or something and Sammy started limping pretty badly after our walk.

I started to fear losing them, the kind of griping fear that came in the early weeks after William died. My chest tightened and sleep was gone, I was awake, awake. Losing my husband or my dog would wreck me, I don't have any living children, what if I am left completely alone? I had to mentally grab ahold of myself and shake it off.

Enjoy these moments, G. These Stereo moments when you are surrounded by the slumber of those you love.

***

I received a tentative calendar for our next IVF. Possible ER on my wedding anniversary. Spending the Memorial vacation weekend wondering.
Just.like.two.years.ago (switch IVF for IUI). That time I did turn up pregnant... Deja Vue... Maybe that's a good thing.

Big bag o' nuttin

2009-03-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

I've got nothing to say, really. I drank too much this weekend. Oh Vodka, how I didn't miss you. Well, I like you, I just hate you the next day. But, got that out of my system, back to reality now.

My doctor emailed me before I could email him. Saying he was so sorry (obviously he didn't get the notice about no sorrys, just cuss words). We emailed back and forth a bit. We meet on the 7th to talk about what went wrong, what the plan is, etc. I will start BCP's on day 5 of my current flow. We will check in to make sure my ovaries are calm later in the month, and will probably start stims in early May. IF my body says ok. I'm not sure about success rates of back to back cycling, so I am not going to get too worked up if it gets pushed to June. I have spent the last 5 fucking years wanting this NOW NOW NOW, who the fuck cares about another month eh? (I do)

I'm still in Shared Risk, for now. He doesn't think they will boot me ("probably not" is what he said). So we are left with 4 cycles, 2 fresh, 2 frozen. Only get the frozens if you have frozens.

Headed back to the gym this weekend. I suck. Seriously, I just wanted to sweat this shit out and had to slow down several times to get my heartrate in check. I bought a lace up ankle brace that I probably don't need but it gives me mental assurance that I can sweat this shit out and not worry about rolling it. I really want to go to a step class. But, small steps I guess.

I think I am going to call the foster care program and ask them to send the application packet. I know it's a tough thing to do, but I think I can do it. We can at least get through the classes and home study and see, right? Kids fucking love us. Seriously, its ridiculous.

So, that's my big bag o' nuttin for you to read. I am here, that's about it.

F U Digital!

2009-03-26T18:31:00.001-07:00

I will let the pictures tell the story...

Ahhhh, I feel better

IVF #1

2009-03-26T06:33:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to call this IVF #1, I felt like that might jinx it. Because I had hoped it would be IVF Only.

Stupid, I know. After William's death I swore to myself that superstitions and jinxes had nothing to do with all this. Wishing on the 11:11 clock for a healthy baby didn't work. Thinking bad things already happened to me, so I should have a pass. I told myself I wouldn't do all those stupid little things again.

But I did. And it didn't work, once again. Digital HPT had a big NOT PREGNANT glaring at me this morning. Beta is a formality.

As soon as the beta comes in, I will hit send on the email I am composing to my RE. Number 1 question - when do we start again? Number 2 statement - don't blow sunshine up my ass, I want the hard factual details on what went wrong and how we are going to address it. I know it could just be luck of the draw, but a few things along the way have festered in my brain. I am good with hard, clinical details, not "keep positive!"

I am numb, yet pissed. I did a bit of wallowing on Monday and I think it helped prepare me for today. Please, no I'm sorrys. How about some cuss words instead? That will help more... Let me get you started: FUCK!!!!

ps: For those that have been through IVF before, how long of a wait have you had after a failed cycle?

pps: K@laky, thanks again for the package. I am certain it will bring me luck in the next round. And did you know MaryJan.e shoes are my favorite, so socks in that style make me giddy. xoxoxo

ETA: Negative, stop all meds. See you at your appointment.

Abyss

2009-03-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

I am back from the weekend. Was a good distraction.

Now I am stuck in the abyss. Negative pee stick yesterday. Beta Thursday. Work presentation to all company tomorrow.

Holding onto the fake glimmer of hope, knowing that Thursday will rock my world one way or another.

Too much work today. Trying hard not to think about it.

Over and out.

Pathetic

2009-03-20T12:09:00.000-07:00

First, thanks for the stories. HILARIOUS! For some reason ass burns, farts, dog shit, peanut butter thievery, falling undies and more farts really entertains me :) Also knowing I wasn't the only freaky little kid helps a lot :)

Second - I am pathetic. I go from, hell no, evaluating symptoms is stupid, to, omg I wonder if THAT was just a symptom? To, who am I kidding? This isn't going to work, to wow, this might work. To, I should have gotten embryo grades from the RE, to googling 5 day blast images and comparing them to mine. I am seriously that trapped in this mindfuck. I was going to pretend like I wasn't, so I could impress people who stumble on my blog, but who would I be kidding, really?

I am pathetic and annoy myself. Good thing we are headed out of town this weekend (nothing particularly fun), maybe I will annoy myself and you guys just a little bit less.

Distract me

2009-03-19T07:10:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the tad bit of a freak out over the no frozens. Seriously, I am counting my blessings over the two blasts and they are doing their best to hang in (I hope).

I swore going into this 2ww I wouldn't be stressed. I have a lot of work to do and I mean A LOT. Burying myself in work was my plan. It was working until I found out the rest of the embryos didn't make it. I know that the percentage of women that have leftovers make it to freeze isn't as great as I thought and that the success rate of FET may not be as high as fresh. But still.

We went from OMG we might be cancelled to OMG so many follicles and WOW! So many retrieved and WOOHOO so many fertilized and WOOT! so many still there on Day 3... Fucking rollercoaster of TTC. It can really eat my ass.

So today, after crashing on the couch at 830 last night, I feel a lot better. I have a plan if this doesn't work. I still am feeling good about it, but having a plan helps.

So, no 2ww worry? hahaha I'm an idiot to think I wouldn't go into that mindfuck. Distract me with stories. Here I have one:

When I was in 6th grade, I was standing in line during recess to play... fuck what was the name of the game when you hit the ball against the wall, not racquetball because it was a big ass ball, but similar? Anyways, and there were these two girls in front of me who were totally bitchy. They kept turning around and shooting me dirty looks. After several dirty looks from these skanky girls, I flipped them off.

Which would have been appropriate, right? Well, the cool fashion of the day were short shirts, not half shirts but it stopped at my waist (ugh, I just threw up a little). But, I already had boobs. Big boobs, especially for a 6th grader. So my shirt hung out a bit instead of being flat against my stomach.

In flipping them off, I caught my finger in my shirt.

Sigh.

Everyone in the whole line laughed at me. Including the bitchy girls.

I had to laugh too, because damn, it was funny.

After that, the 3 of us bitchy 6th grade girls became inseparable.

The end.

Zero

2009-03-17T19:11:00.000-07:00

I know I need to be positive. I am.

That being said, I am really disappointed and a tad bit worried. The 10 we had left didn't make it to freeze. 3 were bad quality and the rest stopped growing.

Snuggle in buddies, you are all we have right now.

PUPO

2009-03-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

Two beautiful blasts on board. The one on the right constricted just as they took the picture. I refrained from asking the exact grading so I wouldn't be all googly. The embryologist said they were Great! My doc said Very Good! That's enough for me, for now.

Find a little snuggly spot and stick around and I will let you have cookies when your dad says no. Well, at least once.

10 left being watched. Will find out tomorrow if any make it freeze.

So for now, I am Pregant Until Proven Otherwise. Home today laying around, back to work tomorrow.

In Common

2009-03-12T15:34:00.001-07:00

I, for the moment, have something in common with Oc.tomom! Well, except I have 14 kids (embryos) in the lab. Yup, 14 fertilized out of the 18! So stoked. So probably a 5 day transfer = Monday.

Update tomorrow on their progress.

So that brings up the question - how many? Well, probably 2 to transfer. Before this process began, I talked to my doctor about how my uterus killed 1 baby at 26 weeks. He strongly believes that after surgery, it can handle two if they both take (and cracked a joke about whether I could handle it emotionally).

It's very scary, I am aware of the increase risk of Incompetent Cer.vix and/or Preterm Labor just because of my uterine septum(or lack thereof, now) with one baby.... but every part of this is going to scary, every single step already has been.

For now, I plan to follow my doctor's suggestion. We will see whether that's 1 or 2 come Monday.

18

2009-03-11T08:55:00.000-07:00

18 retrieved!! Lucky socks!

Wednesday it is!

2009-03-09T14:48:00.000-07:00

Trigger tonight at 8pm exactly. Wednesday at 730am for ER.

I asked who the doctor would be (they rotate) and luckily it isn't Dr. DildoCamManhandler. Whew!

That will put me Saturday for a 3 day transfer or Monday for a 5 day transfer. Then the 2ww, test on 3/26. OMG! Please let this work, please let this work, please let this work.

L&F had a great link to a slideshow on what goes on in IVF for those than are interested. I enjoyed it :)

And just to keep you entertained, here is a picture of me when I found out we had a green light:

(I have used that image before, but it makes me laugh everytime I look at it)

Yay ovaries!

2009-03-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

Go ladies go!

19 follicles!! About 4 at the 16.5 size (they want 18-20mm range before retrieval). E2 = 1145.

Stimming tonight, back tomorrow. Probably trigger tomorrow night for Wednesday retrieval.

Yay for playing catch up my sweet, sweet ovaries.

Boo for no sweatpants at work on Monday and Tuesday.

Progress

2009-03-06T15:51:00.000-08:00

Follies are growing. Up to 12.5 from 8.5 size on Tuesday, about 11 of them. E2 up, to 401.

So looking ok, I guess. From what I can see on average, I am about 3 days behind in a typical 10 day curve. But that could just mean I may be a 12-14 day stimmer.

I don't know. I guess I just keep on keeping on and hope things keep moving in the right direction.

Keep pep talking the ovaries and maybe the clean up on aisle 1 helped a bit :)

BUT I got new shoes today. That makes me a happy camper. Nice support Dansk.o (so as to not worry Tash) and a wider heel that I would be hard pressed to roll. Knock on wood.
Got them on a great sale too at that Nordstore.

Clean up

2009-03-04T12:56:00.000-08:00

I am feeling much better after my doc's email this morning and my acupuncture appointment. I can feel my ovaries working. Come on ladies, let's get this party started!

So I have decided one of the reasons my cycle isn't going perfectly is because of a serious, embarrassing issue. Caused by laziness. Far far too much TMI incoming, click away now to save your souls.

I submitted the ultrasound tech to my unkempt 70s era nether regions.

I know, the HORROR. I kept saying I need to do some maintenance, but I got lazy and forgot. Then I remembered and 5am is not the time to do anything to your lady bits.

But you see, it's winter and I don't care. My husband doesn't care either. It's not like I go Brazilian either, so even trimmed up, it probably doesn't make much of a difference to the tech. But right now, well hell, I could cornrow that shit up.

You bet your ass I am doing some maintenance before Friday's appointment. And if things have gotten better, I will know I was just being punished for being unkempt.

Far, far more than you ever wanted to know about me right? Tell me I am not the only lazy one...

So far, so ... craptastic

2009-03-03T17:30:00.000-08:00

Day 5 bloodwork today (but really day 4 since I injection tonight). E2 only 72, they want it around 150. Follicles still pretty small.

Upping my follistim to 375, back Friday.

If I am not responding better by then, probably cancelled. Cancelled means Shared Risk kicks me out and gives me back 90% (according to the contract).

Fuck. I was worried that the 6 weeks of BCP would be bad.

Anyone have low e2 at day 5 and still come out ok?

Talk about wind out of my sails.

Editted: Calmer. My doc responded to my freak out email with:

Day 5 is still early but you are right, your e2 was on the low side but showing a response.

Stimulation is not linear…what that means is that you can have a slow response and exponentially increase your response later in the stimulation cycle and vice versa. So just because you start slow, does not mean that the cycle will go longer. As each US and b/w is obtained, we will know more and stick with plan

Back to acupuncturist this morning. Giving a pep talk to my ovaries.

Hellllllo March!

2009-03-01T15:10:00.000-08:00

March, March, March. I celebrate you with a fresh pedi in a festive color...

A girl needs festive toes for Egg Retrieval and Transfer right? Oh yes, green toes. M thinks they are obnoxious. Especially since it's "mood" polish and will (supposedly) change colors. Good thing it's not open toe shoe season, eh?
(ps. Stims going well, b/w this morning = normal, back Tuesday)

March also brings evil...

Evil, evil cookies.

I knew it

2009-02-27T10:27:00.000-08:00

How do you get rid of the cynical, "I knew it" internal voice?

My appointment went great, lining nice and thin, no cysts, follicle count good. Go ahead and start stims tonight. Hurray!

I get to my car and they are calling me.

"I'm sorry but it appears Shar.ed Risk hasn't been paid yet"
Not possible, I claim. I already received my portion to pay back for the meds. Hell, I already received the first fucking bill.
"No, they haven't been paid, did you [insert - do all the stuff that is like FUCKING DUH]"
Yes, you aren't understanding me Sha.red Risk has paid ME after THEY got paid
"Well they haven't been paid, you will need to call them"
Great.

Driving down the highway, can't figure out my handsfree for calls out that aren't in my phonebook, so I was breaking the law with my phone up to my ear. Shar.ed Risk, east coast time. Me, pissed off on hold, listening to the message over and over again.

10 minutes into the hold message torture, my RE billing department called me back.
"Oh, we JUST got the authorization. Really, like 15 minutes ago. You are good to go"
Mkay, suuureee you did. Great. Thanks goodbye.

Crisis averted. Can you imagine, hopped up on hormones the calls I was about to make? Meanwhile my internal voice was saying, I knew it. Things look good physically to move ahead but I knew it, the world just fights against me in this baby quest.

The bad part is, in the 1023819083 steps until a take home baby (one way or another) that fucking little voice will ridicule me. Will tell me that there is a bigger reason I can't just fuck my husband and pop out babies.

How do I reprogram that voice? It doesn't show up until there's a stressor. Otherwise I am all over positive thoughts and reassurances.

For today, I am excited to give myself 3 shots tonight. Sunday in for bloodwork to see how it's going. The sun is shining and I don't have any obligations besides averting the low toilet paper supply crisis going on in the house.

In the clear

2009-02-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

So, honey, was it rough producing today?

"I got there late, was hot and sweaty from thinking I was going to miss it. Probably sweaty from the infection and pain from my implants. Then the room was like 800 degrees. It took me a long time, probably a half hour. But I delivered. Doing that on Vic.odin was hard"

(hard, huhuhuhuhuhuh) I am sorry, that must have sucked! I was thinking when I sent you the email that you had an appointment in a couple of hours that it was going to be rough. Nothing like fighting an infection, dealing with major pain and stressing out that our cycle will be cancelled to help you deliver your junk!

"No kidding, when I came out of there, I was all sweaty and a couple of guys were sitting there and looked at me all crazy. I am sure I scared them."

Did you just look back and them and say, Fucking newbies!!
Or, What? Isn't this how babies are made?

*

M's junk is in the clear. No white blood cells from the infection. Oh did I tell you his ortho mumbled something about his jaw perhaps being CRACKED? He removed 1 of the implants, not going back in for 4 months.

Egads.

In a couple hours I go in for my suppresion check. Hopefully stims tomorrow. A few more steps in this 12398080 step process.

Niobe asked

2009-02-22T20:30:00.000-08:00

Niobe asked an interesting question... What color are your eyes?

Greenish with brown and brown specks, Hazel like my mother.

Funny blurb

2009-02-19T16:19:00.001-08:00

My bank has a hold on the check I put in on Friday... before I fell. They sent me a note:

Unusual Deposit Account Activity

I think it's because they reviewed the camera history and saw me splayed out on the ground shortly before depositing. Pretty unusual I would say (well, not for me). I hope their security people got a good chuckle!

(ps, it's ok they put it on hold, it was a check to payoff the $$ I put on my CC for the IVF meds. Not due until March. Now I can't accidently spend it)

Implants

2009-02-19T09:48:00.000-08:00

Not that kind, silly.

My husband got titanium implants imbedded into his jaw about a month ago. Pretty penny, but worth it.

Right?

Well. On my birthday, one of the caps fell out. He went into the Ortho shortly after to get it fixed. When the doc was fixing it, he rattled the other one loose and it almost came completely out.

Ow.

He managed to jam them both back in and sent M on his way with a small supply of vicod.in. M did well after the initial surgery and didn't use any (or maybe a couple). This time though, he was in severe pain.

This is the man, who was so stoic about the pain he had for years in his gut, that one month he lost 20lbs and was white as a sheet. Upon going to the doctor, his blood pressure was so low they had to admit him... for 5 days. Come to find out, he had been suffering the painful and embarassing ulcerative colitis for years. He didn't complain, he just dealt with it until it landed him in the hospital.

Last week was tough for him. He can't take anything but tylenol or vi.codin, which quickly ran out (Luckily, I am a painkiller horder and had some perco left from my ankle & tubal surgeries). He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. Well, he ate, but it wasn't fun. Ortho office is only open like 4 days a week though, so by the time it got really bad (weekend) there wasn't much to do.

Making a short story long, the doc couldn't see an infection, but gave him antiobiotics in case the pain was infection in the bone.

So?

He was due to take his round of antibiotics for our IVF on the same day. After many emails with my RE's nurse, it was determined to be ok, skip IVF antiobiotics, take those. Except this morning my doctor emailed back and said he was concerned about the infection / antiobiotics effect on his junk (ok, he didn't say junk). So another SA is due before we go much farther, in case the cycle needs to be delayed.

So?

Well they don't have an appointment until next week, the lab takes 7 days to do the full SA panel. I am due to start stims after my suppression check next Thursday.

So?

Two days into Lupron, my hard candy coated shell started to let the tears in... while I am at the office, after just getting out of a rough financials meeting (please market, please go up). Fuck!

And then...

Hero in a white coat calls the lab, M is getting in today. We will know results at suppression check next week. If they are bad, we will postpone. Which sucks major ass, but it's before the spendy injections start (stims = $3k).

Two days into my IVF cycle and I am already freaked out. Fuck. I keep reminding myself, this isn't just bad stuff happening to us, this is just LIFE. Right? Fuck.

Oh and ... M just called. One of the implants just completely came out. Again. Major pain. So M gets to go give a hot beef injection to a cup while in major dental pain...

Awesomesauce!

Trainwreck

2009-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

On Friday evening, my husband and I came to a horrid conclusion. After watching/participating in the train wreck, we agreed it was time to say goodbye to many of my sweet, sweet friends.

You see, on Friday, after a couple of drinks, we stopped off to deposit a check in the ATM. I was wearing my favorite clog type shoes:

Sure, they aren't the prettiest shoes, but I am here to tell you, they are comfortable. I bought them just weeks before the stillbirth, when my feet were starting to drink the haterade.

I was wearing those shoes when I took my tumble in the driveway this past September. I had to put them away for a time. Well, I wore one while I was on the scooter. But once I was back to walking on 2 feet after my surgery, flats it was. Now, you must understand. I am 5 feet tall. On a good day I can convince a nurse I am 5'1, but I would have had to use a lot of hair product. Wearing flats is so foreign to me. I didn't even own a pair (outside of tennis shoes & flip flops) until the first time I broke my ankle. To date, with two ankle brakes in my belt, I own... 2 pairs of flats.

But my doctor told me I could do clog type shoes occasionally, they would probably give my calf muscle a break, but to be careful. I was careful! I can't express to you HOW careful I was. I walk slow (and at 5 feet, I'm not exactly a speed walker anyways). I monitor how my feet are landing. I don't want to end up breaking it again. If I have to go through surgery again... omg I can't even think about it.

After a day of wandering the house barefoot and doing a nice Wii Fit workout in bare feet, I slipped into my clogs on Friday evening and sighed in relief. Ahh the backsupport, ahh the arch support, ahhh the height!

Then, after dinner, we HAD to stop at the ATM.... From inside the car, M saw this:

M rushed to me, asked if I broke it again. I said no (no CRACK! like last time). He helped me up, I limped to the ATM and put the fucking check in and got back in the car. The rest of the ride, M tried to contain his laughter at the trainwreck he just witnessed (oh and once home, he showed me what it looked like, it WAS in slow motion). We got home, wrapped it, iced it and came to the conclusion....

I am not meant to obtain height through shoes. I am not meant to wear anything with heels, clogs, whatever. I am forever cursed into a world of flats. Laugh at me if you want, but on Saturday morning, I stood in the bedroom and looked at my rack of shoes, my beautiful, beautiful shoes and felt... sadness. I love them, some of them SO very much.

I can't say goodbye to them yet. It pains me too much. I may never fully part with them. I tried to find some nice, cute flats online this weekend, to no avail. I am just not programmed to think flats are cute.

Perhaps I should move onto handbags... But what's a good handbag if it doesn't compliment your shoes? Ahhhhhhhhh the horror!

Here we go, yo

2009-02-13T11:58:00.001-08:00

Just got the meds for IVF. It's really real. And I feel a bit sick to my stomach.

Through our IF journey, IVF was always there as the last resort. There's nothing after this. Signing up for Shared Risk was supposed to help that, I mean if it doesn't work after 6 attempts (3 fresh, 3 frozen), we get money back to walk away and figure out where to begin the rest of our life. It does help calm me a bit, but just knowing there's an end, there's nothing else...

I just have to give it up to hope. I can't control it from here. I feel like I am standing on the edge, the final edge, about to leap and that fall looks pretty scary.

OooOOooom

2009-02-11T08:16:00.000-08:00

Stress. You are not my friend. Go away.

Just got the results of the last test we needed to do for Pre-IVF.
The last test.
An updated sper.m analysis. After normal SA's over the years, morphology is low 11% (normal is over 30).
Fucking hell.
Not that bad though, add ICSI to the line up and hopefully things will be ok.
Another couple of thousand (not covered in the Shared Risk program).
oooooohhh Yah!

Oh and I received a $15k bill in the mail yesterday. Turns out my insurance company paid my RE and the Anesthiologist, but denied the hospital in my January 2nd tube removal. HURRAY! I know, I just need to do some pushing on this as it was pelvic adhesions and pain, not infertility. But still.

Oh and I received a $700 bill for my 10/24 ER visit (tubal). I already received a bill saying it was all paid, I just needed to pay my $75 deductible. Paid, done. HAHA, done... Funny girl.

I am thinking I hate that hospital.

Oh and M got rear ended. He is OK, although he has a lingering headache... should he see a doctor? Blue is scratched, poor Blue. Of course Blue is in its final months of being paid off.

M's job is sketchy. He works for a major airplane manufacturer, that's all I need to say, right? Day by day. Continue to save.

Oh and my work... major issue I am working through. Let's just say when people lose money (like everyone in the market), people look for someone to blame. Not fun, but this is what I am here for.

Goodness, this list looks bad. The SA results have me a bit rattled this morning, but otherwise I am still feeling OK. Thank goodness I am not on stims yet so the workouts are good. I am managing my stress pretty well compared to other times in my life. Letting go of things I can't control.

Speaking of that... I never really imagined that working out would feel SO GOOD! After all my health issues last year and my fucking ankle, getting on the elliptical and breaking out into a sweat is good therapy. Then weights, ahhhh. Now, don't get too impressed we are talking about a couple of workouts in. Hopefully I can keep it up until stims start (and then get good dog walks in).

Thanks for listening. Shit just spilling it here makes me feel better. Back to the grind...

Sunshine & Rainbows

2009-02-05T12:36:00.000-08:00

I have (had) this friend, we used to be really close, we have been friends since 6th grade. Over the last few years, we have grown apart, but still did our best to keep in touch. But as time went on, she did this thing, this thing.... Well this image begins to explain it:

Everytime I talked to her, Sunshine & Rainbows came streaming out of her ass. Nothing was ever bad. Nothing was ever even "meh" - it was always so good. Conversations turned so superficial that I felt like I was discussing the weather with some schmoe in the elevator. Not only that, they were always about her. I have a pretty high tolerance level to just listen, but when a straw breaks this camel's back, sometimes there's no way to recover.

The straw came in the form of "oh I can't wait for you to be a mother, it is so great" said to me not too long after William died. It was not a vindictive statement at all, she truly was just thinking about how great it has been for her and didn't stop to think about who she was saying it to. It took a few more similar conversations before I passively cut her out of my life. One can only take Sunshine & Rainbows coupled with insensitive statements for so long.

So what's my point? I'm not really all Sunshine & Rainbows as my last few blogs entries have seemed. I am feeling a shit-ton better, don't get me wrong, but that little voice in the back of my head reminds me how hard the fall will be from way up there atop that rainbow. Lurking around the corner from this upcoming IVF is a whole huge mess of emotions that I have to keep an eye so they don't steamroll me.

Ah fuck, who am I kidding? They will steamroll even if I monitor them. I mean, if it fails, I am going to be a mess. If it succeeds, I am going to be a mess. I just understand, right now, I can't control it either way so I chose not to let it bug me (much).

This Saturday is my birthday. The big 35 as I have already whined about. But another thing too. The anniversary of my due date. I have to be honest, I am ignoring the fuck out of it. Sure, the "1 year ago, you changed my life forever" postcard with the cute baby on it from the child portrait studio hit home (I actually thought to myself, No Fucking Kidding, Right? before I threw it out). He is gone, due date or not.

I sometimes feel so different than other DB moms here in blogland. I have trouble saying William, instead of "my stillbirth". I have to remind myself that this awful thing happened to me, to him, to us. I don't think about it a lot anymore, I don't think about him. Sometimes I walk into the baby room and the smell hits me and I pause. The room has a distinct smell, different from the rest of the house. I am not sure what it is, the crib and changing table? the finishing supplies (baseboards neatly stacked, paint trays, hammer, nail gun...) in the same corner where they were left when my sister in law moved them while we were in the hospital? We keep the door closed. When I walk in there to retrieve something, I breathe it in, feel it, then quietly close the door when I am done, M does the same.

I know I will be haunted by every week, every minute memory again when (please let it be when) I get pregnant again. For now, my friends, I am sorry for all the Sunshine and Rainbows spewing out of my rather large ass. I'm still here, as annoying and spazzy as I can be.

15 months

2009-02-03T10:06:00.000-08:00

I am wrapping 2008 up in a nice little box, throwing Nov & Dec 07 and Jan 09 in there with it and putting it far, far away. Maybe sealing it with superglue. And explosives. Open at your own risk.

February, oh how I love you and the sunshine you brought to Seattle. Sure, it's colder than a witch's tit (seriously, where did that phrase come from?) but the big orange thing in the sky (what IS that thing?) is lovely. Acupuncture yesterday restored the feeling of health that has been missing for a while. Coming home from work with a few minutes of daylight left is blissful. Mr. Sammy loves his poop walks (I think he saves up all his poop for walks, I have a new rating system: oh that was a 5, count 'em 5! poop walk... oh just a 2'fer today!) M sent me flowers this morning. He is my favorite husband (kicking off the G Birthday Fortnight).

And... Cap One approved us and the last daunting thing to get this IVF started is done. Sure, I have to rush them along, but if it gets delayed a week, it's ok.

As I head off to injection class this afternoon, the following lyrics play over and over in my head: Here we go, yo! Here we go! Here we go, yo! Here we go!

/spaz

Calendars!

2009-01-27T12:39:00.000-08:00

Why am I so stoked to just know when I start sticking myself with needles?

Feb 17th - start injections (Lupron 10 units)
Feb 27 - Start stims (Follistim 300IU and Menopur 75 IU)
Egg retrieval around March 10th-12th

Which means, by the end of March I will know if it worked.
(please let it work, please let it work, please let it work)

Knowledge is power. Just knowing dates make me almost giddy happy! And while paying an extra $2k because we are starting 10 days after my birthday pisses me off, it's just money, right? Happy day, happy day!

Please let it work. Please let it work. Please let it work.

I would like a 2009 deduction.

(ok, for right now I am ignoring all the stress I will have each minute, day, week, milestone, once I am pregnant again... humor me)

Nothing much

2009-01-22T12:47:00.000-08:00

I have a bit of a head cold, so my thoughts are riddled with snot. Here's one thought creeping through:

I still have a permit, valid until April, because of my ankle. Sometimes I feel guilty about using it, sometimes as my ankle screams and swells, I don't.

I admit, sometimes I put the limp on when people give me strange looks. M even instructed me to do so at a restaurant recently...

Forgive me.

AMA

2009-01-18T14:54:00.000-08:00

When I was in my early 20s, I had a plan. Married by 25, kids by 30.
Time went on.
Married by 26, not too far off. Kids by 31?

We tried to get pregnant when we first moved to Washington from California. I was 28, we could still hit my target for the first one. My sister decided to try for her second too. Month after month, nothing. My sister got pregnant.

At some point, our marriage went down a shit hole and talking to each other was a struggle, let alone hopping in the sack for a hot beef injection. As darkness corroded our marriage, kids by 30 slipped away. We clung to the shreds of whatever brought us together in the first place and clawed our way out of the hole. No easy feat, but we found our love again and left the Dark Period(tm).

So plans changed. Kids before 35? Sweet body and boob reduction by 35?

My 30th birthday, our wounds healed, we jumped back into the baby making. Years seemed to have ticked by. Then, reprieve. Pregnant, due by my 34th birthday. We were already planning the quick timing of a second.

We all know that crashed and burned. Even while laboring, I did the math in my head, thinking maybe I could get pregnant again and have a baby before I was 35.

I turn 35 next month. AMA - Advanced maternal age. Irritating. More irritating is the additional $2K price tag on my Share.d Ris.k cost for IVF. Not only did my plans get blown to shit, now I get a new label tacked on when I do get pregnant. New label, new price tag. Irritating.

Thank you all for your input on timing. Smart, smart ladies you are. It seems my body is taking the choice out of it too, with continued lingering bleeding. I will know more on the 27th as to how February will pan out. In the meantime, healthy eating, acupuncture, destressing. Embracing new labels, in fact, wishing, hoping I get a chance to have that label.

And maybe, a baby by 36? Sweet smaller perky boobs by 40? :)

Timing

2009-01-16T09:40:00.000-08:00

I am really struggling trying to figure out timing of our IVF cycle. Maybe you all can help me. Here's the nitty gritty that I don't really want to share, but I share my private parts stories with you so, whatever.

-First, we paid off our credit card debt about a week ago. We want that to push us over the 720 range in credit scores. Prior to that we were running those cards close to the max limit. Feels amazing to have them paid off, even if our savings needs to build back up.

-Second, my period is lasting a long time. I am usually a 3 dayer. It's day 8 and I still have some bleeding and clots. I assume this is from surgery, its been two weeks since my tube was removed.

-Third, Share.d Ri.sk wants to be paid two weeks before I begin injections. We are hoping to obtain a low interest rate on a Capita.l On.e Healthcar.e loan. C1 takes a week to process.

So, any sane person looks at this and says, just push it back, wait until the 0 balances show and your uterus is happier, right?

But in IF and DB land, sanity is a luxury. I want to start as soon as my doctor will let me, which is probably starting injections the first week of February. Which means I would need to apply for the loan now.

Aaahhhhhhh! M is understanding, he knows how badly I want to get back on the TTC wagon, but he has a point when he says, "we busted our asses to pay off those bills, we should wait and let them show up in our score."

I know he's right. I know the difference is only a month, but still. (baby, baaaaaby, babbbbyyy, baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby)

Tell me I'm a moron and to just push it back, for the uterus and the score. Maybe hearing it from more than the husband will help.

Wow

2009-01-15T11:01:00.000-08:00

This economy, this market, sucks. Friends and family losing their jobs left and right. It's scary.

In the midst of it though, I passed a big exam and get to have letters after my name on my business cards and email signature. I figured I could count that I still have a job and the company reimbursed me for the large cost as a blessing. Imagine my surprise when I got a raise. A nice raise.

Then today, they just announced an improvement in Short Term Dis.ability benefits (aka Maternity leave too). We had 60% of pay for 6 weeks, after a 2 week wait before. Last year I sent a lengthy email to the head honcho of our parent company and the director of HR complaining about it and our bereavement leave in the face of my situation. I outlined our competing firm plans and received an amazingly sweet reply from the head guy. He was sorry for my loss and assured me they would (were) evaluate it.

But you know, when you send that stuff you never really expect to see any movement. On top of that, this market, this economy sucks. Imagine my surprise at the new benefits: 1 week wait for benefits, 6 weeks at 100% and 6 weeks at 66%. Wow.

I puffy heart my company, in a big way. Good for them for recognizing the importance of benefits and keeping good people happy in this volatile economy.

I hate to brag, but I am just amazed and had to share. Wow.
Now let's hope I get to use that new benefit one day soon.

PS - The light I bought is a goLite - got a nice deal on it on Ama.zon. I think they should hand them out to all people entering the Seattle area. Should be required :)

Is it Wednesday already?

2009-01-14T12:59:00.000-08:00

Wow. In between meetings but realized the last post was the sad, sad state of affairs last week. Back at work, feel much better, although I am crazy busy. Uvula uvula uvula has recovered. Woot woot.

Began birth control on Friday. Trying to nail down our treatment plan now. I have my post op on the 27th and we have a few appointments before then to finish up our prerequisites (Antral Follicle Count, Uterine Sounding and something else I can't remember right now). IVF is overwhelming, even for a total knowledge/research junky like me. I read through the binder last night though, it helped, but what I really need is MY treatment calendar, which my Doc's nurse is getting together.

Boring post, but just letting you all know I am alive and doing much better. Oh! I also bought one of those blue spectrum Happy Lights. I really feel like it's helping my mood a lot. I am smiling and have good energy. Could just be the OMG I finally feel alive again feeling :)

Much love xo

Good, bad and the peculiar

2009-01-06T12:39:00.000-08:00

Good = They reconsidered and we have been accepted into the IVF Share.d Ri.sk program. That means we will pay for a little over two cycles and will get 3 fresh IVFs and 3 FETs and if, with all that, we don't come home with a live baby, we will get 70% of our money back. Knowing what I know now, live babies aren't guaranteed, I find comfort in this and we will pay the extra. At the very least, we will get money back to pursue adoption if it gets to that. We will take on a healthcare loan, which sucks but we just paid off all our credit card debt, so it should be almost a wash with lower interest. February we start.

Bad = I am unable to go to work this week. I was pushing it thinking I would be back yesterday with the pain from the incisions, but it's really not how I wanted to start 2009. It's ok though, I will start next week fresh and clear minded.

Peculiar = "It's really peculiar, I have never seen anything like it" - said to me by my Primary Care doc yesterday. M and I just laughed. Par for the course, really. Off to the ENT we were sent as the self proclaimed "grey haired doctor" (his words not mine) wasn't comfortable with what he was seeing. ENT doctor said he rarely sees it, but it looks as though the breathing apparatus used in surgery caused an ulcer on my uvula. It's swollen and (sorry tmi) pussy and uncomfortable and the treatment... 5-6 days of waiting it out. Crying made it worse, for the record.

We came home after that appointment, I was feeling miserable and my bowels decided to finally work again and that wasn't pretty either. I barfed again after having some chicken noodle soup. The bowel prep, ulcerated uvula and binge and purge diet is really a good way to start a new year, new diet. Although I don't think my weight has paid attention, my bowels are still swollen some. And what I am eating is soft (bread is just another means to get your butter allotment) and not exactly healthy. Occasionally, something catches and up it comes again. Right now I am hoping the tomato soup stays down, that won't be pretty.

Today I am feeling better though, relatively speaking. I am still mentally pushing past this shit and realizing how good the surgery went. The adhesions weren't too bad and I still have one tube. And Shar.ed Risk, that takes some stress off. The ENT guy assured me that I could sleep, that it won't block my airway so last night I finally got more than a few broken hours.

I just feel like I'm standing on the edge of something good, my body is struggling to get better. After this, I jump in again, with both feet and I know it won't be smooth sailing emotionally, but it won't be this anymore, this constant repairing of my body and healing again. I hope. I really, really hope.

Hope = M and I laughing last night about how much shit I can give our future teenagers about the pain and suffering I went through to get them. I know it's not a guarantee they will come from my body, but... We Hope.

Oh my uvula!

2009-01-03T09:25:00.000-08:00

Surgery went well, as far as I can surmise from the pictures the Doc gave M and M's sad recollection of what he said. The right tube had adhesions and looked pretty distorted, out it went. The left tube spilled fluid as he tested it, so it stayed in. That is the tube that is block from uterine scarring, so it's not likely to work normal at this time, but he saw no reason to remove it. Perhaps one day, at a ripe old age, that tube will work when I least expect it. Who knows.

That being said, my uvula is swollen, purple bruised and white-ish and creating a major gag reflex. Uvula - just googled Hangy Downy Thing in Throat and got the technical term. You're proud, right? I can only deduce that Dr. Jumpy, aka the anesthesiologist got jumpy around my uvula and did some damage. Wait, let me take you back.

First and foremost. I think everyone should do a bowel cleanse for the new year. Out with the old poop! That was a lovely way to spend the first day of the year. Butt (huhuhuh) make sure you get those flushable wipes, your hot crack will thank you for it.

When we got there, I was called back, got nekkid, got weighed (and was a little disappointed my bowel cleanse didn't produce a higher weightloss, oopsie, must have been the 12 pounds of Christmas after all). Then Nurse Bruiseyourhands came in and started grilling me. You see, by then I was pretty groggy and just ready for my General Nap. She had me spell my name, no problem. She had me spell my first name, I got a little confused. She got a little concerned. Then she grilled me about why I was having surgery. Because my doctor said so didn't seem like the right answer, I said, my tube is damaged, needs to be removed. Her concern look lessened. When she got to my history, it went like this:

Ok, so you had a D&C last January
You had another D&C last February
You had a uterine septum removal in March
You had a fractured ankle surgery in September
(pause)
Wow.

Me: Yah, I'm really glad 2008 is over.

Nurse Bruiseyourhands was slow. Dr. Jumpy came in and introduced himself as my anesthesiologist. Seriously, small jumpy little man. Why? Did I make him nervous with my dark, dark circles under my eyes? Was he jealous of my iphone superglued to my hand? No, no. He didn't like the heart murmur (benign) and wasn't happy that I couldn't spew out exactly what type of murmur it is (benign!). Then when he couldn't hear it, he was ok. Then he didn't like that I was on metformin, even if it was for PCOS not diabetes. Wanted my blood sugar done. Ok, had that done all of the last surgeries, that's cool (normal). But, Nurse Bruiseyourhands already had an audience. The surgical nurse and my doctor, waiting....

I don't really think she was too bad, because with the bowel prep and dehydration I am sure my veins were teeny and hard to get. After the 4th prick (prick, huhuhuhuh) on the second hand, the IV was in. Hurray. Not really sure how I am going to get by at work next week where no one knows I had surgery. Guess I need a sweater that covers my hands.

Anyways. Surgery went fine, I woke up with major shoulder pain and some nausea and I felt like they had left something in my throat. They all just kind of looked at me like I was crazy. As the day progessed though, I realized my uvula (uvula uvula uvula!) had taken a major beating. In my list of surgeries, I have never had this problem. I wonder if I had trouble breathing, did they have to intubate me? What happened, why didn't they tell me? Or did Dr Jumpy jump around and play with uvula during surgery? I feel so violated. Ok, not really.

So short story long, I am doing ok. Except I thought I was a total veteran and was not expecting this level of pain. In my gut, in my throat, in my shoulder. As long as I don't move... at all, I feel ok. The minute I have to move, not so much. I'm a complete sissy this time around.

But that's ok. I have perco.cet and Halls throat tabs and hot tea and well, now I must go get those things and lay back down. Thanks for listening to my drug induced babble.

Bottom line though, the outcome of the surgery gives me hope that 2009 will be a much, much better year. Well, maybe not for my uvula, uvula, uvula.

Home

2009-01-02T14:08:00.001-08:00

I'm ok, tube gone. Talk later.

Goodbye 2008

2008-12-31T09:44:00.000-08:00

I find it strange that the last two times I have gone to the RE (HSG and Pre-Op appointments), a song has come on while there. The last time, I tagged it with Shazam (<3 iphone). Strange, cool, enlightening.

Indeed, let it be me. I am going to embrace 2009 and hope that it is me. In so many good ways. I feel like I am rinsing off the bad from 2008 and waiting with open arms (well, and tomorrow a clean intestinal tract!) for the good. Let it be me.

Meltdown? Just add booze.

2008-12-30T12:29:00.000-08:00

A relatively new friend of mine asked me yesterday if her and her boytoy can come over on New Years Eve. After I told her we will probably just stay home, make some fondue and play the wii, she laughed and said, yup I am inviting myself. My response?

No. Not a nice excuse, nothing. Just a quick and dirty no. She laughed at me (you see why I like her?). I backpeddled a bit and told her I was treating it just like any other night and didn't want to clean or deal with amateur drunk night. I feel a bit bad in hindsight.

But you see. She knows me as me. Not tragedy stricken G, but just me and my sarcastic self. I like that. I enjoy her company because I don't have to be the G whose baby died, the G who had a miscarriage after that, the G who is about to have surgery, the G who wants a baby more than anything. I am just G. I love feeling normal and not damaged again when we hang out.

If she comes over, I have to give her the house tour. I have to explain why we have a room with a crib and a changing table/dresser in it. Who wants to do that on New Years Eve? What a downer. And it would change everything in our relationship.

So No. Not going to happen. I keep thinking I should change my mind, but the self preservation part of me says - Dude, pull your head out of your ass, NOT a good idea.

I am also pretty weepy everytime I think about Friday. I don't have the most self control, so weepy/emotional plus that uncomfortable conversation would probably equal me drinking far, far, far too much. Then I will probably cry. Then I will probably go into my room and pass out. Then the normal, undamaged G will be gone in our friendship. So, yah, fuck that.

M is disappointed, he loves people and is such an extrovert. He wants to go to his sister's party on NYE. Again, no. I can feel the ticking time bomb, add alcohol and it won't be pretty. I have, as a boozer, woken up far too many years on New Years Day with that feeling of hangover dread. Why do it again?

On top of all that... I have to spend New Years Day "prepping my bowels." Can you imagine? Hungover, fasting, shitting my guts out? As much as I like the booze, the idea makes me throw up a little. In my old age too, the hangovers tend to last into the second day. Oh hell no... I am not going into surgery with a hangover, that's just straight stupid.

So, sitting at home with fondue and a couple of drinks while playing the wii is what M gets this year. I refuse to feel guilty over it. Well, at least that's what I tell myself.

Alterations

2008-12-29T13:00:00.000-08:00

So, the crazy Seattle snow storm is done. Lots and lots of snow meant no inlaws trying to make it into town, into my home, into my head. Can you tell I am not all that sad about it? Honestly though, this was the first Christmas I was actually looking forward to a bit of M's crazy family. Oh well, we still had bits of celebrations as we tried to venture out onto the poorly, poorly groomed roads. It was a nice Christmas.

The last few nights though, the nightmares have started. Pick a reason really, faking it til you make it manivesting in my dreams, missing my family this holiday (well some of them), fear that my dog is starting to move a lot slower....

But I think it's mostly the dread from my surgery this Friday. Removing of the tubes. Well, removing of the one hydro tube for sure, with an operative decision on the other based on what he sees. Most likely both will be removed. In the last year, I will have altered the way my body was born 3 times now. 2 removals and 1 addition (if you count the ankle hardware as 1). Strange.

I feel secure in the decision, but it doesn't make it any easier. It launches me back a year ago where I would wake up and put my hand on M to make sure he was still breathing. Fear of loss all over again. Shit, I even warned M to walk to his car carefully since it's still icy out. Then I laid in bed and wondered if I really did hear his car pull away, or if I should go check to make sure he wasn't in splayed out in the driveway unconscious.

One thing I do know, I really don't like to be back here in the land of constant fear and bad dreams.

That being said, I also really don't want to come here and whine about it. There are so many other heartbreaking things going on in blogland, what is my little laproscopic surgery then, boohoo, onto IVF story? Then I remembered, I started this blog for me. The fact that others care enough to click over and read is nice. But this was my blog to keep me out of depression, out of counselling, a place to spew and not fear about being judged.

So... I am back here, hoping maybe spewing posts again will equal more sleep and less anxiety. Sucks to be you guys :)

Merry Christmas

2008-12-24T16:06:00.000-08:00

Wishing you love and peace... and the important things in life:

Hurray!

2008-12-15T09:31:00.001-08:00

Ha. Thought I would make the title something fun, something exciting. Because I can't take anymore I'm sorrys or pity.

So let's pretend everything is good and I didn't already hear back that because I have had two losses, I was denied Share.d Risk.

Instead, we have snow. It's pretty and makes it feel all Christmas-y. We are heading to a little village in the snow this coming weekend and I am looking forward to a change in scenary. I do have a big test to study for and my house will be full of inlaws, but HURRAY, the snow.

Look, snow!

Had my company Christmas party on Saturday night. We got these photobooth pictures at the beginning and I keep looking at it on the fridge. Strange, we look happy. Honest to goodness happy. I love the picture, I feel like it shows me that we're back.

And then... there was snow! So much snow that the cab driver didn't want to drive down our road. Ha! Get moving, mister! By then my ankle was huge because I wanted to wear my hot red shoes for at least an hour of the party (yes, I had a wardrobe, well shoe change midway through the party). No way was I walking down that road, drunk and half broken.

We woke up to snow!

Did I mention the snow?

Hurray! Snow! Hurray!

Thinking out loud

2008-12-12T08:31:00.000-08:00

So hours of Dr Google research and some correspondence with my doctor, here is what we are thinking:

- First I looked at the HSG Films from 05 (06?) and even my untrained eye can see the major difference. First, both tubes were open the, although the left tube was slow to fill and spill. But the right tube was good and the spill is clear. Now thinking about to Wednesday's films, there is no fill at all to the left tube. The Right tube looks like a sausage at the end by the ovary and the eventual spill is a trickle.
- I read a ton about hydro tubes online and forums with real life experiences. Basically they are filled with toxic fluid that even if you get pregnant, the risk for miscarriage is high as the tubes are triggered to spill into the uterus. The accounts of "I did # IVFs and had chemical pregnancies, miscarriages and failures" is staggering for hydro tube women. Then there's the "I had my tubes removed after all my failures and ta da! got pregnant on my # IVF post surgery." But you can find those stories for just about any scenario you want.
- My doctor wants to do a laparoscopic salpingectomy removal of the hydro tube AND check out and remove whatever is left of the other side.

It's so permanent. But remember that weird "relief" I felt finding out? I think I always knew we would have to go to IVF. Although sitting in the hospital room last November I turned to M and said, at least we CAN get pregnant. Ha, what a joke.

So now I sort out what to do next. We both feel strongly that this is the right choice, but it doesn't make it any less scary. I am going to book the surgery and do more research, perhaps talk to another doctor. I know I should get a second opinion, it's just difficult because this is my second RE, my superhero in a white coat. The other doctor in town was an asshat who didn't even see my septum on the HSG, which now with my trained eye on HSG septums, I can see. Fucking asshole.

Speaking of anger. I am really fucking pissed off. You know why? Let me paint a picture for you:

Lying in the hospital bed, this new doctor comes on call. She is cocky. She is certain they can get the placenta out without doing a d&c. She says, I have small asian hands, I will get it out. Then she lodges her hands so far up my hooha I could taste the latex on her gloves. She succeeds in her mission... she pulls the remaining cord so hard it breaks off. Oops. Guess d&c it is. Then she does the d&c and is all cocky about the fact that she got everything.

Fucking bitch. Look at my file and take the septum into account. Then, the OB office treats me like shit and ignores my crying calls that I think I have an infection. I had to go through two MORE rounds of antibiotics and still was a sweating pile of feverish mess. Nevermind the two additional d&c's I needed to get the POC completely out.

I can't help but think, that infection raging in my uterus with POC left in it... that's why my tubes look so different than they did in 05. That hydro tube, it was there keeping us from getting pregnant earlier this year. Finally I did and it killed the pregnancy. The u/s they did when they thought it was a tubal... no it was just my sausage sized hydro tube and a big ovarian cyst. I really think the pregnancy was that spec in the middle of my uterus.

And now, now I get to add insult to injury and be basically sterilized because Small Asian Hands and her cohorts at my OB's office were incompetent in my treatment after my son died. Awesome, right?

So yah, I am angry all over again.

But also, relieved. Let's move on. One last thing in our bag of tricks to achieve a child, a living breathing child. The money part of it, we'll work it out.

And a partridge in a pear tree...

Oh yah, I'm a mess

2008-12-10T16:45:00.000-08:00

HSG today.
The 1 healthy, unblocked tube is indeed fucked.
So I guess the pregnancy was a tubal and now I have a hydrosalpinx tube and the other tube is blocked completely.

I asked the doctor, is IVF is our only option then? He said yes. I said is that a YES or a yah. He said, if I were his wife and money was not an issue, then YES.

Not only that, he highly recommends removing the good tube in order to increase our chances with IVF. Sterilize me to increase my chances...

Seriously, the universe keeps kicking me. I battle to stay mentally above water, take it in stride, but what the fuck man. Fake it til you make it only takes you so far.

The sad part? I almost feel relieved. Why?

We certainly don't have 18k a pop sitting around.

Anyone with experience in this?

I would appreciate input on whether I should remove the tube and jump into IVF. If I should, how do I finance it? Given my history, can I qualify for the Shared Ri.sk program?

Fucking fuckity fuck fuck. Maybe I should move to a state with IF coverage... oh yah, like selling our house and finding a job right now is an option... hahaha

I am losing my mind, one universe sucker punch to the gut at a time.