Feelings and Numbness

Feelings

Hope of finally seeing a BFP and a heartbeat.
Absolute certainty that this cycle will not work.
Terror at the notion of telling our parents, either way.
Stress and anxiety stemming from our busy season at work.
Relief that our busy season at work wrapped up on Saturday.
Happy that BFF(H) is pregnant and NOT suffering secondary IF (there was some concern).
Disbelief at the pregnancy announcement from the couple whose wedding we attended in August. Who am I kidding... disbelief isn't really the word.

Numbness

What if DEIVF works for us and we actually get a take-home baby?
What if DEIVF doesn't work for us?

I keep remembering BFF(B) asking me how I felt about all this. I still don't know... I somehow just don't. Either way, I just want to get on with my life. I really need to start remembering my mouth guard at night. My lips are numb from clenching my jaw.

Cycle Update

My lup.ron shots are under way. The crazy kicked in pretty fast this time, but I've been riding it out better knowing it for what it is. I will start estrogen later this week and if it goes like last time, that will make me feel much better in no time. I'm not sure what's going on with our donor, but I'm assuming all is well or they would call us. I know they will call when they schedule her retrieval, but that is quite a ways off still.

Hurry Up and Wait

Our donor got her period and we are both on BCP now. Yes, it IS pretty weird to think that she is somewhere across town gearing up for this cycle and she too is hoping we get a take-home baby. We have a tentative calendar. I take my BCP from today and start my other meds in October. We are targeting to transfer in early November and hope to know the outcome by American Thanksgiving.

Since this will be our first time doing a transfer, it will also be our first experience with PIO. I have already been informed by the nurse that I will take my PIO in the AM and progesterone supps in the PM. Not either/or. It has to be both. I am pushing to have those reversed as I would much prefer to do the PIO in the evening when I can sulk on a heating pad afterwards rather than rushing off to work for the day. She did say she would ask the doctor.

We have updated our families and they are suitably excited. We aren't giving out specific information like exact timelines. I just don't want to feel like I need to send out a newsletter every time we have an appointment or a call from the RE. Unfortunately, I feel like I'm having some trouble managing my father's expectations. He is just SO excited...

I also told my BFF (once again, just the basics). She kept asking, "How do you feel about this?" Honestly, I didn't even know how to answer that. Anxious, excited, hopeful, scared... mostly disbelieving and a little "blank" inside. Clearly I'm protecting myself from a negative outcome. It's just that it's still so hard to imagine anything working for us. She said to me, "It will feel more real when you see the positive." I replied that I think maybe it would feel more real at 24 weeks. I could tell from the look on her face that she gets it.

Taking a Bullet

So yeah, I took the statistical bullet last week. I'm pretty sure we all do at some point, but I figure someone else can have the honor next time, okay? That actually sounds kinda shitty. I don't wish this on any of you. I sincerely hope all of you who got your BFPs and excellent fertilization reports appreciate my sacrifice! (And in case it was unclear, that was intended to be humor. I'm a wee bit dry.) Unfortunately, this leaves me disinclined to blog for the moment. In keeping my Bullet Theme, you're getting a list today:

• All of my meds have been refilled (at no cost to me, since I met my co-insurance in May) and are boxed up and waiting in the back of my closet for the do-over IVF. It wasn't until I started IF treatments that I even knew what co-insurance meant. If you've never been introduced, it means that I've paid my yearly limit of co-pays and for the rest of the year any covered medical expenses (excluding prescriptions) will be paid 100% by my insurance. I've spent THAT much in co-pays already this year. 
• The box of meds is in my closet because my mom and my MIL are coming for their annual summer co-visit. This is good. I love them both and they have a great time together.
• The box of meds includes a just-in-case refill of my Crinone because next week, my employer sponsored health insurance is switching prescription coverage and Crinone will be bumped into the highest tier. I'm guessing my employer is gonna be saving some serious cash because my prescription costs are about to go up. Bastards.
• These are the same Bastards that have neglected to respond to the letter I sent in honor of NIAW. I console myself with the virtue of having sent it at all.
• I've fallen of the Fitness Wagon. I haven't exercised in... months. I am consistently exceeding my calorie limit for the day. Granted, my daily calorie limit is ridiculous at a mere 1,200. I AM at least maintaining. My weight has not gone back up, but the loss has plateaued. If only I could convince myself to get off my ass and back on the elliptical. It would probably also help if I could refrain from restocking the ice cream supply in my freezer.
• If I have to see one more 5-6 month pregnant woman pushing a one year old in her grocery cart, I refuse to be held responsible for my own behavior. The produce section is a perfectly acceptable location to lay down and beat the floor with my fists while screaming.
• Fortunately, I can avoid the produce section for the most part in the near future since our CSA box started back up last week. Dude, I LOVE garlic scapes. And having an excuse to see my BFF more often.
• BFF thinks I'm depressed. She's probably not far off. 

This shit sucks.

THIS Is the Thing That Breaks Me Down?

You've met BFF(H). There hasn't been a single moment of her recent pregnancy/delivery that bothered me. Not her pregnancy announcement, not the ultrasound pictures, not seeing her seven months pregnant belly or sleeping in the nursery when I went to visit her over the summer.

I was perfectly fine and happy when the baby was born and the photos of her and her husband with the baby started arriving in my inbox. So, when I saw that I had a new email with a new photo album from her, I was nothing but excited to see how the baby was changing.

Right up until the photo of her mother holding the baby. At which point I burst into tears. Not just a few tears trickling down the cheek, but full body gasping sobs. My damned eyes are filling up again just remembering. Somehow, I hadn't realized just how much it meant to me to have a chance to see my Mom holding my child. I don't understand why this should be so much harder than seeing BFF(H) or her husband holding their child?

Is it because this disappointment feels so fresh and new, whereas I have already had so many months to adjust to the disappointment of perhaps never seeing my husband holding our child? Is it because of the recent change of our diagnosis to "unexplained" and the appearance of IVF on our horizon (and thus my new-found fears for my egg quality)?

I'm serious... if you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.

BFF

PCOSChick wrote a very poignant post about BFFs (Best Fertile Friends), and it made me think about my BFFs. I am such a lucky girl that I have two, we'll call them BFF(H) and BFF(B). These two women are not just my Best Fertile Friends, they are my absolute Best Friends Forever (aside from the Professor of course).

BFF(H) is a friend from my wild-child college days. I first introduced her here. I've known her longer than I've known my husband. She was my Maid of Honor at my wedding. We've been through some truly horrible ordeals together and we've had a lot of fun together, and year after year, we appreciate each other more. She has always been the first one to jump to my defense when I feel hurt or slighted, always ready with an offer to fly across the country to kick somebody's ass for me (and she could do it, too, she's fit). When I told her about my infertility, she just said "Damn, that sucks", and when I explained to her that basically my ovaries and my uterus had communication issues, she came back with the suggestion that they should seek couples counseling because she'd heard it really worked wonders for that problem! Not a trace of pity, which would have crushed me. She just comes at life fists raised and cracking jokes. It just breaks my heart to know that, barring a miracle, we will never live in the same place again. She got married last year, and is now 5 months pregnant with her first child. And I so cannot wait to watch her be a Mom, because it's gonna be a riot!

BFF(B) is a newer friend that I met at my previous job about six years ago, when we were both unmarried and childless. Now we're both married, and I'm still childless. I was there when she had her miscarriage, and she was there when I had mine. We had the exact same problem, but I had a different doctor and a lot more monitoring so I feel like I got off easy after what I saw her endure. When I told her about my infertility, she asked intelligent questions about the problem and the plan without getting soppy. And she just keeps telling me "You'll get there. You will." and it's hard not to believe her. She is the one who when I got my period after the last IUI, told me to come on over, put the kids to bed early and cracked open a bottle of red. I've watched her wrangle those three kids with calm and humor that I cannot fathom. She and her husband are possibly the most fertile people I know, and they are the people the Professor and I will look to for parenting tips should we be so lucky.

Take a minute to think about your BFF, then give them a call or send them a note and let them know how much they mean to you.

My First Time

December 2009 - Cycle #13 (Memorial)

Professor's SA? Check.
Slackie's HSG? Check.
Clomid CD5-9? Check.
Weekly acupuncture? Check.
Gettin' our groove on whenever the mood strikes? CHECK!
Positive OPK? FAIL.
IUI? Missed the window.

So, best laid plans and all... ah well. We never quite figured out what went wrong. Maybe it was the generic brand OPKs, maybe it was just a coincidence of timing and a short LH surge. Whatever it was, I never got a positive OPK and when they brought me in for an ultrasound to see where things were at - we'd missed it. Now, we did at least have the comfort of knowing that we had been grooving throughout the window of opportunity, so maybe, just maybe...

And a few days after Christmas, maybe became YES. In spite of the failure of "the Plan", my period was late for the first time ever, so we picked up a home test, and lo and behold, it was positive. I called the clinic and they ordered the standard bloodwork, which also came back positive.

Once again, not sure why, but I was strangely wary of being excited. I knew I should be all Glowing and Joyful and Hallmark Moment, but I could only manage Cautiously Pleased. It seemed too good to be true that we had succeeded on our first full cycle with the RE. Already the doubt was creeping in.

When they called with the results of my third round of bloodwork, the nurse admitted that they were "concerned" that the numbers were not going up as they should, and they wanted me to come in for an ultrasound. I've done my homework on this infertility thing, and I could think of plenty of reasons for the low numbers (some of them scarier than others).

The ultrasound showed one small sac, hunkered down in just the right spot, but it was too small. So the verdict was wait and see, bloodwork every two days and another ultrasound one week out. Fast forward one week, bloodwork not improving and second ultrasound shows very little increase in size and no other development. Diagnosis: blighted ovum.

Blighted indeed.

I was a freaking hot mess. I think I went the whole week without showering, but I'm not even sure. I was so sad and angry and scared of what this meant for the larger picture. I never once thought of it as losing a baby. It wasn't a baby to me yet. It was an empty sac, never was and never would be anything else. I was sad for me, and angry that my body still hadn't gotten it right. Angry that we were going to have to wait untold weeks for this to resolve before we could start again. Angry that it was turning out to be so much harder than we thought it would be. Angry that so many girls and women could get knocked up so easily when they didn't even want to, didn't even like the person that knocked them up. The Professor and I adore each other and we just want to create a child that would be part of each of us, a reflection of just how immense our love is.

In the midst of all this, my BFF called to tell me she was pregnant. Two weeks behind me, her due date is my birthday. They'd been trying for six months. And I felt nothing but pure joy. I cannot describe what a relief it was to feel nothing but happy for her. I've read so many blog posts and tweets and statuses and comments from infertile women who were devastated when their close friends announced pregnancies, who eventually shut themselves off from their own social circles because of this. And I was scared that I would feel the same anger, resentment or jealousy towards my friend. But I didn't, and I still don't. And I'm so grateful for that. I eventually told her about my infertility and miscarriage, and she has responded exactly the way I needed her to. She never pushes me for updates or offers assvice, she just sends me little notes to say she's thinking of me. Just like she always has. If I send her an IF update, she offers encouragement or ass-kicking as appropriate. She doesn't see me any differently than before.

I took the misoprostol first thing on the next Saturday morning. I had stockpiled my supplies of maxi-pads, heating pads, Vicodin, water and audiobooks and settled into bed to wait. The Professor kept tabs on me, keeping me fed and hydrated and generally comforted. The whole thing took about six hours, after which I relocated to the couch to watch videos and feel sorry for myself. I didn't take the Vicodin until late that night when I just wanted to sleep. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected.

I spent the following day on the couch, just resting and recovering. My uterus felt like it had run a marathon. I had no abdominal muscle tone, couldn't suck in my gut to save my life. To top it all off, turns out my plumbing doesn't take well to Vicodin. Monday, I went to work like nothing had happened. No one in my office knew we were TTC, and I hadn't bothered to tell anyone about the pregnancy. Before work Tuesday, I went in for the post-misoprostol ultrasound. All clear. By the time I got to the office, I had crashed. I could barely drag myself into the building, much less think straight enough to work. I walked right into my boss' office, shut the door, sat down and started crying. I told her I had had a miscarriage and needed to go home. She told me to take as much time as I needed, and I did. We haven't mentioned it since.

By the time the bleeding stopped, my heart was healed. Really. I was only impatient to get back in the game. We had a follow-up consultation with the RE, and he professed himself very pleased with my response to the treatment in spite of the outcome, and agreed that we could go again once I'd had another period.

Perhaps, if we had seen something in that sac, a heartbeat or even just a fetal pole... something... it might have felt more like a baby, it might have taken longer to heal. But we didn't see anything, and that made it so much easier to bear in the long run.