Such a weird feeling to be excited that this pregnancy is on the downhill slope, but after all of this I'm glad that resolution is finally a possibility. I wish we could go back and have "baby" be a possibility, but since we can't, and it's not, I'm glad that there's an end to this.
My HCG went from about 2400 on Friday to 1959 today. It's down 17%, and according to Dr. Z's protocol that's good enough to not have another MTX shot today. I'm definitely grateful for that, I wasn't looking forward to another one and the possibility of more nausea and more dizziness!
Now we just have to hope that it keeps falling and doesn't stall, because this could be a long road to the finish line. Pleeeeeeease don't let this be a slow end.
We've definitely decided to cancel Vegas because my liver enzymes went up again. My ALT is now 110 with the normal range of 1-40. Anyone know much about this??? Dr. Z wants me to go see my internal medicine doctor when we get a chance...but all I know is that liquor and MTX don't mix...especially if my liver's not all shiny and pristine. So no Vegas for me, and no vino either. booooo.
Work is a mad house right now. I have an outrageous amount of projects I'm working on, and more are piling up. Plus, of course, I still have all of my other core responsibilities that are kinda getting the shaft right now. Not good. One of my bosses said to me that he knows I've got a lot going on personally, so if I need to off load some of my work, that would be fine with him. This makes me panic a little bit. I don't like the idea of my bosses thinking I may not be able to handle whatever workload they give me. I don't like that my personal drama could affect my work performance. They all keep saying I'm still doing well and handling everything fine, but I get really worried when I hear things like that... I know, I'm spastic. I should be happy that I have the opportunity to let some things go if need be. But I'm a pusher, what can I say?
PS- for those of you who are endometriosis sufferers with me, go check out www.endometriosisstories.blogspot.com for a survey on your experiences with this disease. Jessica from Endometriosis Stories sent me a comment yesterday with this link as a cure for my lazy/bored blues, and it was terrific. I spent about 30 minutes filling out the survey and writing my endo story (the majority of the time was to write my story, you could probably finish it much faster than that if you wanted to...) and it always feels great to share my story, especially if it may help our cause in the future. So please, if you've received a surgical diagnosis of endo, go fill out the survey!!! It was actually therapeutic.
I don't have to go in for another blood draw til Friday which is nice. For those "infertiles" who are getting ready to start another cycle, good luck!!!! I'm holding strong hope and lots of positive thoughts for you :) We deserve this!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Riding It Out
I haven't talked much about how this MTX ride has been. Just in case others are out there looking for what I was looking for- someone else's experience after taking this drug - I thought I should post mine.
I got the MTX injections on Monday of last week - so five days ago. Dr. Z had called it into the pharmacy a few days earlier in case we needed. When I got the call, he had me go pick it up and bring it into the office so a nurse could administer it. It only cost $8, which was awesome, because our insurance covered it.
The nurse did one injection in each butt cheek because it's a little too much for one area. The injections didn't hurt in the slightest, especially after the PIO shots I'd been doing daily. Those are wicked...
I went home with instructions to not eat any leafy greens (starting back before I took the shots because of the folic acid), no pre-natal vitamins (again, folic acid), and take advil if I got bad cramps. I'm not supposed to be doing any strenuous activities (exercise, sex) for fear of my tube rupturing as well. They expected that I might have some mild nausea, but offered for me to call if it got bad so they could write me a script for some drugs to help. They also said I'd hopefully have a bleed so that my uterus would flush out at some point.
So the afternoon after the injections, I got a little nauseous and experienced some light headedness and a little dizziness as well. Nothing to write home about really, not as bad as the "morning sickness" I was experiencing on the progesterone (which wasn't all that bad either).
The day after the shot I was pretty good, not much as far as symptoms go. I think it was later that night (day 2) when I started to bleed again a bit. I got some cramps and a little nauseous again. But the bleeding didn't last.
Day 3 and 4 were much of the same. Nauseous here and there, but really not bad at all. Last night I started getting some cramps again, and then some kind of bad gas pains. I've had a little bit of pain in my lower right quadrant for a while now, but that's pretty normal for me with the endo. That got a little worse last night. Then the cramps got really bad out of nowhere. I ended up pretty sick to my stomach and had the big D late last night. Yuck. I started bleeding kind of heavy, bright red, with just a few little clots. Nothing big.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night with really sharp pain in my lower right side, like a sharp side cramp, that made it difficult to breathe and that radiated up into my right shoulder. I was worried that something had happened...especially with the shoulder pain (if you have bleeding in your abdomen, it can radiate up to show as pain in your shoulder due to irritation on the diaphragm), but after a few minutes it subsided and I was able to fall back asleep. Not really sure what that was, but with stage 4 endo, I just kinda get used to randomness like that.
I've lost my appetite a bit since the MTX shot. Haven't been able to act like a garbage disposal in my normal fashion (at least like it was when I was on the progesterone and stimming drugs, yikes). So that's been a welcome feature! I've lost a couple pounds (which could be me losing muscle since all I do is sit around at work or lay around at home, ugh).
Other than that, haven't really noticed any problems. I've been staying out of the sun (doctors orders) and not drinking alcohol (I hate you Dr. Z). So weird, we went to dinner last night and all I wanted was a cocktail and an F'ing salad...
I'm a bit nervous about Monday's results. I'm thinking with my recent luck, I'm gonna need another MTX shot. Which I've kind of given into at this point, but it still sucks. I feel better now that we've pretty much decided we're postponing our little vacation. We'll enjoy it much more later, when we can do what we want to. Vacation with restrictions is no good.
B and I keep laying around talking about how we need to get up and go do things. Yesterday we sat on our couch for a good thirty minutes talking about what we could do that didn't involve any sort of exercise or being outdoors. I said we could go to a museum and he laughed at me. If you knew B, you would understand why. He's too cool for school... ;) Just kiddin' B! I love you! (and you know you're too cool for school...). We talked about shopping, but all we'd be buying is fat clothes for me or things we don't need for the house...neither of which is a good plan. We ended up going to dinner and a movie. Our standard date night. We seriously COULD NOT think of anything to do. What's wrong with us??? We need help. For those of you who know us (and where we live), do you have any ideas? We're getting a little bored with the Red Box movie rentals and real estate tv shows (that's my fault, I just friggin love those shows...). And don't tell us to go to a museum, you'll get laughed at as well...
I got the MTX injections on Monday of last week - so five days ago. Dr. Z had called it into the pharmacy a few days earlier in case we needed. When I got the call, he had me go pick it up and bring it into the office so a nurse could administer it. It only cost $8, which was awesome, because our insurance covered it.
The nurse did one injection in each butt cheek because it's a little too much for one area. The injections didn't hurt in the slightest, especially after the PIO shots I'd been doing daily. Those are wicked...
I went home with instructions to not eat any leafy greens (starting back before I took the shots because of the folic acid), no pre-natal vitamins (again, folic acid), and take advil if I got bad cramps. I'm not supposed to be doing any strenuous activities (exercise, sex) for fear of my tube rupturing as well. They expected that I might have some mild nausea, but offered for me to call if it got bad so they could write me a script for some drugs to help. They also said I'd hopefully have a bleed so that my uterus would flush out at some point.
So the afternoon after the injections, I got a little nauseous and experienced some light headedness and a little dizziness as well. Nothing to write home about really, not as bad as the "morning sickness" I was experiencing on the progesterone (which wasn't all that bad either).
The day after the shot I was pretty good, not much as far as symptoms go. I think it was later that night (day 2) when I started to bleed again a bit. I got some cramps and a little nauseous again. But the bleeding didn't last.
Day 3 and 4 were much of the same. Nauseous here and there, but really not bad at all. Last night I started getting some cramps again, and then some kind of bad gas pains. I've had a little bit of pain in my lower right quadrant for a while now, but that's pretty normal for me with the endo. That got a little worse last night. Then the cramps got really bad out of nowhere. I ended up pretty sick to my stomach and had the big D late last night. Yuck. I started bleeding kind of heavy, bright red, with just a few little clots. Nothing big.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night with really sharp pain in my lower right side, like a sharp side cramp, that made it difficult to breathe and that radiated up into my right shoulder. I was worried that something had happened...especially with the shoulder pain (if you have bleeding in your abdomen, it can radiate up to show as pain in your shoulder due to irritation on the diaphragm), but after a few minutes it subsided and I was able to fall back asleep. Not really sure what that was, but with stage 4 endo, I just kinda get used to randomness like that.
I've lost my appetite a bit since the MTX shot. Haven't been able to act like a garbage disposal in my normal fashion (at least like it was when I was on the progesterone and stimming drugs, yikes). So that's been a welcome feature! I've lost a couple pounds (which could be me losing muscle since all I do is sit around at work or lay around at home, ugh).
Other than that, haven't really noticed any problems. I've been staying out of the sun (doctors orders) and not drinking alcohol (I hate you Dr. Z). So weird, we went to dinner last night and all I wanted was a cocktail and an F'ing salad...
I'm a bit nervous about Monday's results. I'm thinking with my recent luck, I'm gonna need another MTX shot. Which I've kind of given into at this point, but it still sucks. I feel better now that we've pretty much decided we're postponing our little vacation. We'll enjoy it much more later, when we can do what we want to. Vacation with restrictions is no good.
B and I keep laying around talking about how we need to get up and go do things. Yesterday we sat on our couch for a good thirty minutes talking about what we could do that didn't involve any sort of exercise or being outdoors. I said we could go to a museum and he laughed at me. If you knew B, you would understand why. He's too cool for school... ;) Just kiddin' B! I love you! (and you know you're too cool for school...). We talked about shopping, but all we'd be buying is fat clothes for me or things we don't need for the house...neither of which is a good plan. We ended up going to dinner and a movie. Our standard date night. We seriously COULD NOT think of anything to do. What's wrong with us??? We need help. For those of you who know us (and where we live), do you have any ideas? We're getting a little bored with the Red Box movie rentals and real estate tv shows (that's my fault, I just friggin love those shows...). And don't tell us to go to a museum, you'll get laughed at as well...
Friday, August 27, 2010
yikes
2,367. That was my HCG number this morning.
Granted, they said that the number can go up before it comes down by day 7, which will be on Monday, but I don't like it one bit.
I guess we'll just have to wait and see on Monday.
We retested my liver enzymes again. I got the results from last time. Really not that bad, just a bit above normal for the AST and a little more than double the normal high for ALT. But after doing a little research, it has to be much higher than that for anything serious by any means. There's the possibility of a "fatty liver", gotta love that. But I really don't think I'm an alcoholic...and I'm not really obese (yet), which are both contributing factors to fatty liver. Who knows though, my body really loves to piss me off.
Work has sucked my life away right now. I'm working on two huge projects as well as several other lovely little time suckers. So it's been hard for me to get out of the office before 8pm. Thus, difficult to sit down and write anything when food is the number one thing on my mind...and of course, my husband.
I'm just plugging away over here though, not really much to report. Other than the fact that we're probably not going to Vegas. I think it'd just be such a horrible waste to go to that beautiful city without the prospect of drinking excessive amounts of liquor by the pool. No offense to those who enjoy not drinking or sitting indoors...it's just not what I'm looking for right now.
I miss feeling pregnant. I hate that I still am pregnant and feel so utterly not pregnant. I'm looking forward to ... well, moving forward. One day.
Granted, they said that the number can go up before it comes down by day 7, which will be on Monday, but I don't like it one bit.
I guess we'll just have to wait and see on Monday.
We retested my liver enzymes again. I got the results from last time. Really not that bad, just a bit above normal for the AST and a little more than double the normal high for ALT. But after doing a little research, it has to be much higher than that for anything serious by any means. There's the possibility of a "fatty liver", gotta love that. But I really don't think I'm an alcoholic...and I'm not really obese (yet), which are both contributing factors to fatty liver. Who knows though, my body really loves to piss me off.
Work has sucked my life away right now. I'm working on two huge projects as well as several other lovely little time suckers. So it's been hard for me to get out of the office before 8pm. Thus, difficult to sit down and write anything when food is the number one thing on my mind...and of course, my husband.
I'm just plugging away over here though, not really much to report. Other than the fact that we're probably not going to Vegas. I think it'd just be such a horrible waste to go to that beautiful city without the prospect of drinking excessive amounts of liquor by the pool. No offense to those who enjoy not drinking or sitting indoors...it's just not what I'm looking for right now.
I miss feeling pregnant. I hate that I still am pregnant and feel so utterly not pregnant. I'm looking forward to ... well, moving forward. One day.
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Grey Area
I didn't post all weekend because what was I gonna write about? Every time I think at all about this "situation" I can only muster up a bizzarly quizzocal look and a grunt about "waiting". Writing something even remotely real, let alone profound or entertaining in any way, just wasn't in the cards. But of course, the story has to have a climax. Or at least, another "result" of some sort.
Went to the doctor this morning and got the ultrasound before my bloodwork. B came with again, he's only missed like 2 visits, both of which were only blood draws. He's a rockstar. But then again, I haven't missed any. So that puts me at supermodel status or something. ...
I had a pretty heavy bleed this weekend. Started on Saturday. Had some gnarley cramps, and passed some even more gnarleyness. Yes big brother, you may not want to continue on for the rest of this paragraph... I thought for sure I had miscarried when I saw the second huge clot in the toilet, it was intense. The cramps lasted most of Saturday. I felt much better on Sunday, had just a little more bleeding but no more big clots or anything. So I thought the ultrasound would show that it was gone...
Nope, there was still an empty sac of some sort in my uterus. Dr. Z felt pretty confident that it hadn't shrunk much. But he also felt pretty confident that this is an intrauterine miscarriage. So he gave me three options, with the caveat that if my HCG number went up a lot we'd start over with talking about an ectopic. He didn't think that would happen, so here were my choices. 1) Go home and wait it out for a week in hopes that it takes care of itself, but if after a week we're still in the same boat, we move on to the other two options for fear of infection. 2) take Cyctotec which is a drug that dilates the cervix and causes the uterine lining to shed. This has some not good side effects for about 24 hours and only works about 50% of the time in my circumstances. 3) a D & C which for those not in the know with the infertility buzz words, this little gem is used to clean out the uterus via "scraping" if you will. Sorry, that was a little harsh. It's actually quite common and is used to obtain uterine lining samples for tests and such outside of infertility as well. It's an outpatient procedure, and I'd be under anesthesia. Unfortunately, it can cause scar tissue in the uterus which can affect future pregnancies, so not my favorite.
I mean, none of these options are optimal. It's a miscarriage, nothing is optimal. But I honestly have no idea what we would have chosen to do because about an hour after we left the office we got the call about my HCG, and it went from 600 to 1500.
1500! ... Remember when it was 12?
So yeah, not exactly "down". No?
I don't know WHY I keep thinking it's not going to rise significantly or that it's going down. :: Enter image of One Day's head ramming into the same wall over and over again. :: I just really thought this was going to be the one mildly less complicated thing.
So Dr. Z, with way too much surprise and wonder in his voice, explained that he needed me to come into the office for the methotrexate shots because he feels this is ectopic. With a 1500 HCG, he should be able to see more in the uterus. My little uterus sac looks far too much like a "pseudo sac" linked to an ectopic for him to feel comfortable. My question, if you should be able to see something in my uterus, then wouldn't you be able to see something in my tubes or elsewhere? The answer- No. "It's a grey area". A mother F'ing grey area. They don't want to wait and see what happens when one of the options is me ending up in the emergency room being prepped for emergency surgery because my tube ruptured and now I'm dying...blah blah.
I got the two shots of methotrexate this afternoon. I go back in on Friday for a follow-up beta. Then on Monday again. If my HCG doesn't decrease 25% by Monday, I have to get another two shots. We will keep monitoring at least once a week, if not twice, until my HCG is below 0. I have a feeling that's gonna be a loooong time from now. Thoughts?
Oh, ps- Dr. Z took my liver function test last week to determine if it was ok for me to take this MTX shot. I guess if your liver's not doing so hot, this bad boy can really do some damage. So he tells me today right before the needle is injected into my right ass cheek, that my liver function test had some kind of high numbers. He wants to test again on Friday. Not high enough that he wouldn't go ahead with the MTX, but high. I asked if it's still high on Friday is there anything we can do to help? He said no. Um. Ok. Yeah, that sounds about right. WTF???????????????????????????????????
I swear I'm not an alcoholic, no matter what my blog and blood tests show. But I mean, honestly. I want to go to Vegas and party like a rockstar and pretend like my life is still mildly drama free and the only thing pseudo about me is my dance skills. But alas, me and my pseudo-sac will be sitting our asses at home, drinking some water, and using this as an excuse to gain another three pounds. I mean, it's not my fault I can't eat salad or exercise. My doctor made me do it. I have a note!
Went to the doctor this morning and got the ultrasound before my bloodwork. B came with again, he's only missed like 2 visits, both of which were only blood draws. He's a rockstar. But then again, I haven't missed any. So that puts me at supermodel status or something. ...
I had a pretty heavy bleed this weekend. Started on Saturday. Had some gnarley cramps, and passed some even more gnarleyness. Yes big brother, you may not want to continue on for the rest of this paragraph... I thought for sure I had miscarried when I saw the second huge clot in the toilet, it was intense. The cramps lasted most of Saturday. I felt much better on Sunday, had just a little more bleeding but no more big clots or anything. So I thought the ultrasound would show that it was gone...
Nope, there was still an empty sac of some sort in my uterus. Dr. Z felt pretty confident that it hadn't shrunk much. But he also felt pretty confident that this is an intrauterine miscarriage. So he gave me three options, with the caveat that if my HCG number went up a lot we'd start over with talking about an ectopic. He didn't think that would happen, so here were my choices. 1) Go home and wait it out for a week in hopes that it takes care of itself, but if after a week we're still in the same boat, we move on to the other two options for fear of infection. 2) take Cyctotec which is a drug that dilates the cervix and causes the uterine lining to shed. This has some not good side effects for about 24 hours and only works about 50% of the time in my circumstances. 3) a D & C which for those not in the know with the infertility buzz words, this little gem is used to clean out the uterus via "scraping" if you will. Sorry, that was a little harsh. It's actually quite common and is used to obtain uterine lining samples for tests and such outside of infertility as well. It's an outpatient procedure, and I'd be under anesthesia. Unfortunately, it can cause scar tissue in the uterus which can affect future pregnancies, so not my favorite.
I mean, none of these options are optimal. It's a miscarriage, nothing is optimal. But I honestly have no idea what we would have chosen to do because about an hour after we left the office we got the call about my HCG, and it went from 600 to 1500.
1500! ... Remember when it was 12?
So yeah, not exactly "down". No?
I don't know WHY I keep thinking it's not going to rise significantly or that it's going down. :: Enter image of One Day's head ramming into the same wall over and over again. :: I just really thought this was going to be the one mildly less complicated thing.
So Dr. Z, with way too much surprise and wonder in his voice, explained that he needed me to come into the office for the methotrexate shots because he feels this is ectopic. With a 1500 HCG, he should be able to see more in the uterus. My little uterus sac looks far too much like a "pseudo sac" linked to an ectopic for him to feel comfortable. My question, if you should be able to see something in my uterus, then wouldn't you be able to see something in my tubes or elsewhere? The answer- No. "It's a grey area". A mother F'ing grey area. They don't want to wait and see what happens when one of the options is me ending up in the emergency room being prepped for emergency surgery because my tube ruptured and now I'm dying...blah blah.
I got the two shots of methotrexate this afternoon. I go back in on Friday for a follow-up beta. Then on Monday again. If my HCG doesn't decrease 25% by Monday, I have to get another two shots. We will keep monitoring at least once a week, if not twice, until my HCG is below 0. I have a feeling that's gonna be a loooong time from now. Thoughts?
Oh, ps- Dr. Z took my liver function test last week to determine if it was ok for me to take this MTX shot. I guess if your liver's not doing so hot, this bad boy can really do some damage. So he tells me today right before the needle is injected into my right ass cheek, that my liver function test had some kind of high numbers. He wants to test again on Friday. Not high enough that he wouldn't go ahead with the MTX, but high. I asked if it's still high on Friday is there anything we can do to help? He said no. Um. Ok. Yeah, that sounds about right. WTF???????????????????????????????????
I swear I'm not an alcoholic, no matter what my blog and blood tests show. But I mean, honestly. I want to go to Vegas and party like a rockstar and pretend like my life is still mildly drama free and the only thing pseudo about me is my dance skills. But alas, me and my pseudo-sac will be sitting our asses at home, drinking some water, and using this as an excuse to gain another three pounds. I mean, it's not my fault I can't eat salad or exercise. My doctor made me do it. I have a note!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
consult. ultrasound. beta. repeat.
Had my repeat repeat repeat beta this morning. I had kinda decided that even if it went up I didn't want the MTX yet because it just freaks me out right now and I'm worried about how my body will respond. I'm sure it will be fine, but I don't know. It's probably just the desire for alcohol...
While we were waiting for the blood results to come back, we had our consult with Dr. Z and then he decided he wanted to do an ultrasound just to see what he could see.
So the consult was...well...sorta devastating. He wants to try again obviously. But we didn't do that shared risk program cuz of insurance, so I'd be shocked if he didn't want to try again. He walked B and I through our entire last cycle, right down to each of our 17 eggs' little journeys.
He started with my estrogen levels. Before we did the retrieval, he'd like to see between 200-300. Mine was 144. At retrieval, he'd like to see about 200 per follicle retrieved. I had 17 follicles retrieved. My estrogen was at 1400...you do the math. No good. So he said that this basically means we only really had 7 mature eggs out of the 17. If that.
He went on to walk us through the Day 1 to Day 5 embryo debaucle of 2010. The "Awesome! to Damnit. to Oh Yay! to WTF? to NOOOOOO!" debaucle. He said that at the transfer, he was extremely pessimistic about our odds. I knew that. He said that with the egg quality (and estrogen levels) at day 1 he was surprised at day 3 when things were looking good. At day 5, he said it made sense based on what he saw at day 1. But if we did the transfer at Day 3, there would have been a very low chance that they'd pick the "right" embryos as so many looked falsely good. He kinda explained that embryos run on battery power for energy for the first three days, then when they have to transform into blastocysts, they have to create their own energy to keep developing. That's when we saw the truth about my eggs. They couldn't make the cut. Sad.
So he said that he'd like to up my stimming protocol the next time. Two injections per day. He for sure wants me to do acupuncture to try and help stimulate blood flow to my ovaries, he thinks that's definitely a factor. But unfortunatley, he thinks that my endometriosis is the biggest factor. He thinks it has infiltrated my ovaries and is affecting my egg quality pretty significantly. And he doesn't suggest another lap because messing with my ovaries is a bad, bad idea. It can absolutely affect blood flow and there's too high of a chance to impact my ovarian function.
It was a sad appointment. But we're going to try again. Just when.
That's when the next bit comes into play. He called me in to do an impromptu ultrasound. He said that if my lining is thin then that's not a good sign, that's what he wanted to look for. As soon as that lovely wand was in place, I could see something in my uterus. I thought maybe it was really thick lining, that maybe that was good. Then he said to the nurse that it looks like a sac. An empty sac.
So I got confused. He then reminded me that we had earlier talked about how ectopics can present as a "pseudo sac" or something in your uterus but actually be in your tube. This is bad beacause some people get tricked and do a D&C to clear out the uterus and then think all is well. And then BAM. You're in the hospital with a ruptured tube because as Dr. Z put it, "It was still festering in there". **shutter**
He actually said this could be really good news though and that the numbers might tell us that it's not an ectopic. His gut reaction now is that it's not an ectopic, but an intrauterine miscarriage.
I asked what a normal pregnancy looks like at this stage. He said "much bigger. with a yolk sac". I got sad.
Then he removed his wand from my lady business, let me regain my dignity, and waited for me outside. When I walked out he said the numbers came back. My beta was 617. It went from 400 on Tuesday to 617 today. I definitely wasn't expecting that. I really thought it would be 420 or something.
So he said it could still be an ectopic with that pseudo thing. Or it could still be a miscarriage. He didn't want to do the MTX today. I have to go back on Monday. I'm an F'ing regular. F!
Today hasn't been a good day. I've been up since 3am. I was at work til 8pm. B and I are disagreeing and arguing right now...about kinda everything. We're just both so devastated and stressed and trying to be positive and hating ourselves at the same time. It's gross. That's the word for it. The whole thing is gross.
Get me off this f'ing ride, man. Seriously. Dr. Z said it could take months. Hopefully not, but it could. And when my number gets back down to zero someday, then we have to wait 6 weeks.
While we were waiting for the blood results to come back, we had our consult with Dr. Z and then he decided he wanted to do an ultrasound just to see what he could see.
So the consult was...well...sorta devastating. He wants to try again obviously. But we didn't do that shared risk program cuz of insurance, so I'd be shocked if he didn't want to try again. He walked B and I through our entire last cycle, right down to each of our 17 eggs' little journeys.
He started with my estrogen levels. Before we did the retrieval, he'd like to see between 200-300. Mine was 144. At retrieval, he'd like to see about 200 per follicle retrieved. I had 17 follicles retrieved. My estrogen was at 1400...you do the math. No good. So he said that this basically means we only really had 7 mature eggs out of the 17. If that.
He went on to walk us through the Day 1 to Day 5 embryo debaucle of 2010. The "Awesome! to Damnit. to Oh Yay! to WTF? to NOOOOOO!" debaucle. He said that at the transfer, he was extremely pessimistic about our odds. I knew that. He said that with the egg quality (and estrogen levels) at day 1 he was surprised at day 3 when things were looking good. At day 5, he said it made sense based on what he saw at day 1. But if we did the transfer at Day 3, there would have been a very low chance that they'd pick the "right" embryos as so many looked falsely good. He kinda explained that embryos run on battery power for energy for the first three days, then when they have to transform into blastocysts, they have to create their own energy to keep developing. That's when we saw the truth about my eggs. They couldn't make the cut. Sad.
So he said that he'd like to up my stimming protocol the next time. Two injections per day. He for sure wants me to do acupuncture to try and help stimulate blood flow to my ovaries, he thinks that's definitely a factor. But unfortunatley, he thinks that my endometriosis is the biggest factor. He thinks it has infiltrated my ovaries and is affecting my egg quality pretty significantly. And he doesn't suggest another lap because messing with my ovaries is a bad, bad idea. It can absolutely affect blood flow and there's too high of a chance to impact my ovarian function.
It was a sad appointment. But we're going to try again. Just when.
That's when the next bit comes into play. He called me in to do an impromptu ultrasound. He said that if my lining is thin then that's not a good sign, that's what he wanted to look for. As soon as that lovely wand was in place, I could see something in my uterus. I thought maybe it was really thick lining, that maybe that was good. Then he said to the nurse that it looks like a sac. An empty sac.
So I got confused. He then reminded me that we had earlier talked about how ectopics can present as a "pseudo sac" or something in your uterus but actually be in your tube. This is bad beacause some people get tricked and do a D&C to clear out the uterus and then think all is well. And then BAM. You're in the hospital with a ruptured tube because as Dr. Z put it, "It was still festering in there". **shutter**
He actually said this could be really good news though and that the numbers might tell us that it's not an ectopic. His gut reaction now is that it's not an ectopic, but an intrauterine miscarriage.
I asked what a normal pregnancy looks like at this stage. He said "much bigger. with a yolk sac". I got sad.
Then he removed his wand from my lady business, let me regain my dignity, and waited for me outside. When I walked out he said the numbers came back. My beta was 617. It went from 400 on Tuesday to 617 today. I definitely wasn't expecting that. I really thought it would be 420 or something.
So he said it could still be an ectopic with that pseudo thing. Or it could still be a miscarriage. He didn't want to do the MTX today. I have to go back on Monday. I'm an F'ing regular. F!
Today hasn't been a good day. I've been up since 3am. I was at work til 8pm. B and I are disagreeing and arguing right now...about kinda everything. We're just both so devastated and stressed and trying to be positive and hating ourselves at the same time. It's gross. That's the word for it. The whole thing is gross.
Get me off this f'ing ride, man. Seriously. Dr. Z said it could take months. Hopefully not, but it could. And when my number gets back down to zero someday, then we have to wait 6 weeks.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I fail.
Grammy...stop reading now...
Doobeedoobeedoooooo...
I don't want to write an enormously depressing blog again today about the sh*tstorm that is our life right now. Really, it's fine. I mean, everything's not like "fine" and all, but we're fine. You know? We'll find out tomorrow if I have to take the metha-whatever. Let's call it MTX from here on out because I honestly can't remember what it's called...
Is it really really bad that one of the big reasons I don't want to take the MTX is that you can't drink on it? I mean, I know that's bad, but is it really really bad? You can be honest. If you think I have a problem, it's probably best that you tell me now and not wait to see what comes of me.
Here's the situation. B and I were sad. We were sad and depressed and lonely. Ok, not lonely, that just sounded good. But we were feeling the grief cycle in our own way and decided that because of our miscarriage, we needed a get-away. And that get-away was obviously VEGAS! So we promptly purchased our trip for way too soon...and the very next day I get the call that this isn't over.
Enter disgust and horror at the thought of me as a mother...
I mean, I thought we were ok. I thought at least we could go and enjoy some bevvies and maybe a teensy bit of debauchery for one weekend. I thought that we could at least lay by the pool and sip away our sorrow.
MTX says no liquor and minimal sun light.
Vegas is laughing at me right now. It's pointing and laughing and rolling around in our money. We're coming anyway, Vegas! And we're going to zap any sort of fun right out of you! So shut the hell up!
Grammy, I know you kept reading...cuz you're like me. :) So I apologize for the debauchery. But I'm your daughter's daughter, so you kinda had to figure... ;) xoxo
Doobeedoobeedoooooo...
I don't want to write an enormously depressing blog again today about the sh*tstorm that is our life right now. Really, it's fine. I mean, everything's not like "fine" and all, but we're fine. You know? We'll find out tomorrow if I have to take the metha-whatever. Let's call it MTX from here on out because I honestly can't remember what it's called...
Is it really really bad that one of the big reasons I don't want to take the MTX is that you can't drink on it? I mean, I know that's bad, but is it really really bad? You can be honest. If you think I have a problem, it's probably best that you tell me now and not wait to see what comes of me.
Here's the situation. B and I were sad. We were sad and depressed and lonely. Ok, not lonely, that just sounded good. But we were feeling the grief cycle in our own way and decided that because of our miscarriage, we needed a get-away. And that get-away was obviously VEGAS! So we promptly purchased our trip for way too soon...and the very next day I get the call that this isn't over.
Enter disgust and horror at the thought of me as a mother...
I mean, I thought we were ok. I thought at least we could go and enjoy some bevvies and maybe a teensy bit of debauchery for one weekend. I thought that we could at least lay by the pool and sip away our sorrow.
MTX says no liquor and minimal sun light.
Vegas is laughing at me right now. It's pointing and laughing and rolling around in our money. We're coming anyway, Vegas! And we're going to zap any sort of fun right out of you! So shut the hell up!
Grammy, I know you kept reading...cuz you're like me. :) So I apologize for the debauchery. But I'm your daughter's daughter, so you kinda had to figure... ;) xoxo
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Not another boring "waiting" post...
What to write...what to write... hmm. Wouldn't it be nice if this was one of those "I don't really have anything to write about because we miscarried after our first IVF cycle and now we're just waiting for next steps" post? I mean, I know I love those posts. But alas, I get to entertain you with brilliant musings by One Day's doctor's office and ever so pleasant Beta Results!
So I went in for my beta on Friday as you recall. I didn't hear back from the office at all. So I figured that just meant my HCG was going down like it was supposed to and who wants a phone call about that anyway (other than me, of course).
Monday (yesterday) comes and I for some reason decide I don't need to have my phone on me at all times like I have over the past two weeks, but rather go about my day trying to be a mildly productive employee. Well it worked and unfortunately I didn't check my phone til 6pm, at which point I had two calls from Dr. Z's office and a voicemail proclaiming that I must come in immediately for a blood test, today. It's 6pm. So I call the office this morning at 7:32am and I tell them that I've been bleeding and I started birth control on Sunday because the nurse told me to start on CD2 since this was a big fat failure and I'm a large mass of endometriosis and totally addicted to birth control. So I asked why I would possibly need to come in for a beta.
I found out that my HCG almost doubled from Wednesday to Friday.
They needed me to come in today for blood work because they're concerned at how weird my HCG is and they are worried about an ectopic.
So I promptly put my hair in a bun and sprint to the office because I have a job that doesn't like when I just don't show up until about 45 minutes past my start time...blah blah. I get there, proceed to have my blood drawn, ask what my actual beta was and they say about 200. What does that mean, "about 200"? Whatever, I was swimming in a sea of WTF so I didn't even ask. Then as I'm walking out of the fun little blood draw room, Dr. Z pops out of his office yelling my name. I turn the corner and he's standing there giving me this awkward "how are you feeling after this horrific ride?" look. He tells me that he's very concerned about ectopic at this point, that the numbers are obviously way too low for a viable pregnancy, but that he doesn't know if it's ectopic or an intrauterine pregnancy that's just gone wrong (something about implanting loosely...wtf?) He'll look at the numbers from this morning and let me know what he thinks then. He explains that he likes to jump on these situations early rather than letting them play out...
I'm at work. I get a voicemail (because I suck at being by my phone when the doctor's office calls...every time), when I listen to it I hear Dr. Z's voice which definitely isn't good. He says the number went up to 400. Now, don't get all excited/scared/confused on me. That's a doubling time of 96 hours. Fail. He repeats that obviously this isn't a viable pregnancy, and he's even more concerned about ectopic. He wants us to set up a plan and I need to call him back today so we can decide whether I will start methatrexate tomorrow or wait to monitor a bit longer.
I talked to B and he felt like a snap decision on that wasn't a good idea. Absolutely. So I called Dr. Z back and told him I'm not ready for methatrexate tomorrow. So he said I'll do another beta Thursday. Then if it goes up again, he's making me start the metha-whatever. If it goes down we can keep monitoring.
Don't ever ask what the side effects of methatrexate are unless you are fully stable. Dr. Z totally freaked me out with his little "well, it's a chemotherapy drug" speech. He said some women tolerate it really well, but common side effects are vomiting, nauseau, abdominal pain and cramping, dizziness, fatigue... glorious.
Please let me off this roller coaster. It's nice and all that I got sorta pregnant...but I kinda want to stop now.
So I went in for my beta on Friday as you recall. I didn't hear back from the office at all. So I figured that just meant my HCG was going down like it was supposed to and who wants a phone call about that anyway (other than me, of course).
Monday (yesterday) comes and I for some reason decide I don't need to have my phone on me at all times like I have over the past two weeks, but rather go about my day trying to be a mildly productive employee. Well it worked and unfortunately I didn't check my phone til 6pm, at which point I had two calls from Dr. Z's office and a voicemail proclaiming that I must come in immediately for a blood test, today. It's 6pm. So I call the office this morning at 7:32am and I tell them that I've been bleeding and I started birth control on Sunday because the nurse told me to start on CD2 since this was a big fat failure and I'm a large mass of endometriosis and totally addicted to birth control. So I asked why I would possibly need to come in for a beta.
I found out that my HCG almost doubled from Wednesday to Friday.
They needed me to come in today for blood work because they're concerned at how weird my HCG is and they are worried about an ectopic.
So I promptly put my hair in a bun and sprint to the office because I have a job that doesn't like when I just don't show up until about 45 minutes past my start time...blah blah. I get there, proceed to have my blood drawn, ask what my actual beta was and they say about 200. What does that mean, "about 200"? Whatever, I was swimming in a sea of WTF so I didn't even ask. Then as I'm walking out of the fun little blood draw room, Dr. Z pops out of his office yelling my name. I turn the corner and he's standing there giving me this awkward "how are you feeling after this horrific ride?" look. He tells me that he's very concerned about ectopic at this point, that the numbers are obviously way too low for a viable pregnancy, but that he doesn't know if it's ectopic or an intrauterine pregnancy that's just gone wrong (something about implanting loosely...wtf?) He'll look at the numbers from this morning and let me know what he thinks then. He explains that he likes to jump on these situations early rather than letting them play out...
I'm at work. I get a voicemail (because I suck at being by my phone when the doctor's office calls...every time), when I listen to it I hear Dr. Z's voice which definitely isn't good. He says the number went up to 400. Now, don't get all excited/scared/confused on me. That's a doubling time of 96 hours. Fail. He repeats that obviously this isn't a viable pregnancy, and he's even more concerned about ectopic. He wants us to set up a plan and I need to call him back today so we can decide whether I will start methatrexate tomorrow or wait to monitor a bit longer.
I talked to B and he felt like a snap decision on that wasn't a good idea. Absolutely. So I called Dr. Z back and told him I'm not ready for methatrexate tomorrow. So he said I'll do another beta Thursday. Then if it goes up again, he's making me start the metha-whatever. If it goes down we can keep monitoring.
Don't ever ask what the side effects of methatrexate are unless you are fully stable. Dr. Z totally freaked me out with his little "well, it's a chemotherapy drug" speech. He said some women tolerate it really well, but common side effects are vomiting, nauseau, abdominal pain and cramping, dizziness, fatigue... glorious.
Please let me off this roller coaster. It's nice and all that I got sorta pregnant...but I kinda want to stop now.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
I think this is Peace
It's so weird to not be taking any medication. For the last several days now, it's been nothing. I know I'm supposed to keep taking a prenatal vitamin, but I just don't feel like it.
But, alas, today I'm starting back on the pill. I can't go long without her, without my insides turning against me. So Dr. Z said to start it right back up again and then we'll decide where to go from here. I'll be on it continuously again until we decide to do another round of IVF. I know that's what we're going to do, I just don't know what comes in the middle. Will we do another lap? B doesn't want me to because of what happened after the last one. He doesn't want me (or him) to go through that again. Trips to the ER, painful breathing, couldn't walk... I was lovely. I don't blame him.
We have our WTF appointment on Thursday morning this week. I look forward to hearing what Dr. Z has to say, especially about the egg quality. The concern in his voice on the day of our transfer was alarming. Obviously we're gonna try again with my eggs, but I wonder what he'll change. I wonder if he'll recommend donor eggs down the line. ... inhale. exhale. good.
In the meantime, I need to get my shit* together. (*Sorry Dad...everytime I feel guilty, but it just SOUNDS better. And it's what I'm thinking. You know I love you...and yes, we have bar soap at the house.)
I need to drop some weight. I don't know how much women normally gain in a round of IVF, but I'm creeping into that scary weight range (for myself). I'd like to lose 20 pounds...but that probably won't happen before we do another cycle. I have to be realistic. But B and I are gonna try to get away sometime soon, for a little non-baby thinking. A little "late twenties we don't care about medications because we're totally normal" lifestyle. Man I wish I were normal sometimes. Sometimes. Then there are those times that I'm super grateful that I've gotten to live outside the lines. You know? I have no idea what a normal med-free life is like. Haven't had one since the get-go. I've had plenty of bouts of trying to be normal, and it's worked for a while. Those were fun. (But I always paid for it one way or another)
And then there's B. He hasn't seen a doctor for anything other than sperm...like ever. And that sperm things is only because of me. I don't want to think about what his life would be like if he wasn't with me. No doctor's appointments. No procedures. No waiting on a call from a nurse to find out whether or not our "pregnancy" is viable. He could have been normal.
But he's better than normal. (At least in my eyes. I hope he feels so, too. I think he does.) It's not easy on him. I can see it sometimes. But he has such an amazing strength about him. Still, every time I say anything remotely down or scared or upset, he says exactly the right thing. And he stops what he's doing. He looks right at me. He holds me. I'm blown away by him.
It didn't start out easy though. Right before IVF we were butting heads on how to handle X, and how to feel about Y... pretty much everything. But when it mattered most, he stepped up big time. When it was crumbling all around me, he knew exactly which pieces to pick up and which ones to let fall. He's saving me every single day. Every. Single. Day.
I always wondered if something devastating can really bring two people closer or if it puts this air between them. This space of doubt, guilt, disappointment. Blame. In B's case, he chose to take a step closer to me. No, he didn't meet me in the middle. I can't give myself that much credit right now. He walked to me. He met me where I was at. I feel incredibly close to him, and I couldn't be more grateful for my husband. Have you gotten to a place where you really know what matters? In the grand scheme of things? I just did. It's sad what it took to get me here, but what an awesome feeling. (It's a little scary too.)
I'm a firm believer that God has a purpose. For everything. Yeah, even the shit things. The awful, devastating, destructive things. In the moment, I don't want to think for one second about His purpose or His plan. I want to think about what I need. And that's natural. I think that's ok. I mean, we're only human! But in this moment, I'm seeing what I think He wanted me to see. I'm feeling where I need to feel... I don't ever want to be here again, but I know my plan can't ever be as good as what's He's got cooking for me. For us.
For those who aren't there, that's perfectly normal. Honestly. I know so many good women who have felt disturbing loss over and over again. I'm sitting here after one horrible circumstance and we're in different places. You need to feel how YOU feel. You need to be where you are. I'm hoping for each of us that we are made whole again, if that's possible. Or at least that we smile again. That is possible. (For those who don't know, I've been following several women go through IVF or IUI's or just the TTC journey right along with me in this little blog world. And so many have missed their chance this time. And it hurts like hell. And doesn't seem fair. And makes me want to vomit/hit things. But I think we'll smile again ... one day.)
I'm glad I'm where I am today. I'll be in a different place tomorrow or two hours from now. But I think it will be a place of understanding and peace. I think it'll be a step closer to moving forward, one way or another. And I know it will be a place full of support, with your wonderful words of wisdom, with my family there to understand, and with my B walking right beside me, waiting to catch me when I can't make it on my own. Thank you. With everything that I am.
But, alas, today I'm starting back on the pill. I can't go long without her, without my insides turning against me. So Dr. Z said to start it right back up again and then we'll decide where to go from here. I'll be on it continuously again until we decide to do another round of IVF. I know that's what we're going to do, I just don't know what comes in the middle. Will we do another lap? B doesn't want me to because of what happened after the last one. He doesn't want me (or him) to go through that again. Trips to the ER, painful breathing, couldn't walk... I was lovely. I don't blame him.
We have our WTF appointment on Thursday morning this week. I look forward to hearing what Dr. Z has to say, especially about the egg quality. The concern in his voice on the day of our transfer was alarming. Obviously we're gonna try again with my eggs, but I wonder what he'll change. I wonder if he'll recommend donor eggs down the line. ... inhale. exhale. good.
In the meantime, I need to get my shit* together. (*Sorry Dad...everytime I feel guilty, but it just SOUNDS better. And it's what I'm thinking. You know I love you...and yes, we have bar soap at the house.)
I need to drop some weight. I don't know how much women normally gain in a round of IVF, but I'm creeping into that scary weight range (for myself). I'd like to lose 20 pounds...but that probably won't happen before we do another cycle. I have to be realistic. But B and I are gonna try to get away sometime soon, for a little non-baby thinking. A little "late twenties we don't care about medications because we're totally normal" lifestyle. Man I wish I were normal sometimes. Sometimes. Then there are those times that I'm super grateful that I've gotten to live outside the lines. You know? I have no idea what a normal med-free life is like. Haven't had one since the get-go. I've had plenty of bouts of trying to be normal, and it's worked for a while. Those were fun. (But I always paid for it one way or another)
And then there's B. He hasn't seen a doctor for anything other than sperm...like ever. And that sperm things is only because of me. I don't want to think about what his life would be like if he wasn't with me. No doctor's appointments. No procedures. No waiting on a call from a nurse to find out whether or not our "pregnancy" is viable. He could have been normal.
But he's better than normal. (At least in my eyes. I hope he feels so, too. I think he does.) It's not easy on him. I can see it sometimes. But he has such an amazing strength about him. Still, every time I say anything remotely down or scared or upset, he says exactly the right thing. And he stops what he's doing. He looks right at me. He holds me. I'm blown away by him.
It didn't start out easy though. Right before IVF we were butting heads on how to handle X, and how to feel about Y... pretty much everything. But when it mattered most, he stepped up big time. When it was crumbling all around me, he knew exactly which pieces to pick up and which ones to let fall. He's saving me every single day. Every. Single. Day.
I always wondered if something devastating can really bring two people closer or if it puts this air between them. This space of doubt, guilt, disappointment. Blame. In B's case, he chose to take a step closer to me. No, he didn't meet me in the middle. I can't give myself that much credit right now. He walked to me. He met me where I was at. I feel incredibly close to him, and I couldn't be more grateful for my husband. Have you gotten to a place where you really know what matters? In the grand scheme of things? I just did. It's sad what it took to get me here, but what an awesome feeling. (It's a little scary too.)
I'm a firm believer that God has a purpose. For everything. Yeah, even the shit things. The awful, devastating, destructive things. In the moment, I don't want to think for one second about His purpose or His plan. I want to think about what I need. And that's natural. I think that's ok. I mean, we're only human! But in this moment, I'm seeing what I think He wanted me to see. I'm feeling where I need to feel... I don't ever want to be here again, but I know my plan can't ever be as good as what's He's got cooking for me. For us.
For those who aren't there, that's perfectly normal. Honestly. I know so many good women who have felt disturbing loss over and over again. I'm sitting here after one horrible circumstance and we're in different places. You need to feel how YOU feel. You need to be where you are. I'm hoping for each of us that we are made whole again, if that's possible. Or at least that we smile again. That is possible. (For those who don't know, I've been following several women go through IVF or IUI's or just the TTC journey right along with me in this little blog world. And so many have missed their chance this time. And it hurts like hell. And doesn't seem fair. And makes me want to vomit/hit things. But I think we'll smile again ... one day.)
I'm glad I'm where I am today. I'll be in a different place tomorrow or two hours from now. But I think it will be a place of understanding and peace. I think it'll be a step closer to moving forward, one way or another. And I know it will be a place full of support, with your wonderful words of wisdom, with my family there to understand, and with my B walking right beside me, waiting to catch me when I can't make it on my own. Thank you. With everything that I am.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Wrong Place, Wrong Time
So I'm sitting at my desk feeling illogically optimistic (especially for me) and knowing that by 12:00 I should hear back from the doctor about my awesomely high beta result. Also knowing that at 1:00 I have a meeting that's been on the books for weeks to discuss a rather awful employee situation with HR and both of my bosses. We have to have a serious discussion on next steps for said employee...not good. Well, 12:00 comes and goes, phone in hand, ready to attack at any vibration. And then 1:00 magically appears. I head into the room for our meeting, and BAM- vibration. Right as my boss walks into the room I look up and tell her I need to take this call. And then, of course, I miss the call...
So, in my stellar state of optimism I say that I'm going to step out for just 2 minutes to get the results and then come back in. Not a thought of the alternative result which could seriously impact my mental state during this meeting. Nope. So I step out, make the call, wait on hold, wait some more, then the nurse comes on. Just as I start to notice the pity sound in her voice my boss walks out and says "We're ready for you when you are..." (ie, please get your ass in here this is awkward). I throw up the "Absolutely, I'm so on top of this, it'll be 12 more seconds" hand gesture and listen to the nurse as she's telling me to stop taking all of my medication, this is over, there's no hope for it any longer.
In my fog, I sort of hang up on the nurse when she's trying to say "I'm so sorry to give you this bad news..." and walk back into the meeting. Luckily HR and one of my bosses is on tele-conference so the next 45 minutes that I'm about to explain are not seen by anyone else but one of my bosses, simply heard.
I start talking about the employee situation and actually sort of forget what just happened outside of that room. I'm talking about how I think we should move forward, then disagreeing with my boss about one approach, agreeing with HR on another, etc etc. I'm rocking this. I'm jotting down a few notes. All is well. Then someone says something about how they're here for me if the conversation turns in an unexpected direction with said employee. And I pause. At that moment I'm looking down at my notepad and somehow just remember the news I just got. Without even a couple of seconds to compose myself or any sort of warning, two tears stream down my face. I say something along the lines of "I'm sure it will be ok, but I also think we need to consider the possibility of this turning into a legal matter..." and more tears stream. The boss who's sitting right next to me notices and gives me this awkward face like "holy hell, are you ok? I mean, I can talk to this employee if you can't handle it..." and I turn my chair away from her and start sobbing silently. Those sobs that hurt your throat because they really need to be loud and uncontrollable but you're controlling them cuz you have shit to do...blah blah blah. I shake my head at her and mouth an apology and continue with the meeting...constant tears rolling down my cheeks.
About 25 minutes later, we all hang up. I actually sat there for another 25 minutes answering questions, asking questions, chatting...crying the ENTIRE time. It was unbelievable. I should get some sort of award for that kind of work. I was brilliant. Of course the boss that was in the room was horrified and utterly concerned. I proceeded to explain and then the loud sobs started coming and any faith I had in myself and my abilities to make it through this went out the door. I had to actually cover my face I was so uncontrollable. She said I was incredibly strong, and all that. It was nice, but there wasn't a thing out there that was going to stop the waterworks at this point.
I called B from the little room I was sitting in but he didn't answer. I finally decided, after my boss had left and I'd been sitting there for way too long alone, crying, that I needed to move locations and find B. Not a good idea. I should have stayed in that room for hours.
So I somehow get the tears to stop and wipe the mascara from my chin, and step outside. I sort of put my notebook over my face as I walked down the hall, down the stairs, to B's desk. Of course, he wasn't there...instead one of our senior managers was standing there handing out ICE CREAM for god's sake. I mean, wtf? My face is bright red and amazingly puffy at this point. He looks at me. I look back at him. He knows this is an awkward moment for me but probably more awkward for him. The moment took probably 14 times longer than it needed to. And then I scurried through a hallway to the other side of the floor so I could get back to my own desk...or a room...safety.
Not in the cards.
I walk back upstairs and see my old boss standing there. She knows what's going on with the IVF. She knew today was a big day. She saw the mascara still left on my cheeks and the blood shot everything all over my face. She gave me a sort of "Oh no, no no no..." face and then I lost it again. Right in the middle of the hallway by the stair well. She starts walking toward me so we can go into a room somewhere and when I turn toward my desk three ladies on my team are staring right at me. All three of them see me make my first uncontrollable loud sob in the middle of a hallway. I turn around and actually face a wall and sob several more times. I'm standing there, facing a wall, crying...my old boss kind of directing me to walk somewhere. We turn toward the stairwell again and two gentlemen are walking toward us. So I turn around again and sort of do a double two-step shuffle type move and she grabs my shoulders and says "bathroom, go".
Good lord.
So we walk into the bathroom and I completely break down. I look in the mirror and I've never seen anything like it. If you try to hold your sobs in, and it's actually unsuccessful, it makes a really horrific looking situation. She stood in the bathroom with me for a good five minutes. Hugged me. Said some very nice things and asked if I wanted to go get some tea, leave the building, whatever. My purse is held hostage at my desk, surrounded by all of my employees...so she offers to go grab it.
We walk out after a woman walks into the bathroom and sees me cowering by the paper towel dispenser. I'm starting to compose myself luckily and feel somewhat ok to be out of the bathroom where other people can see me. I turn a corner and B is standing right there. Seriously the millisecond that I saw him I broke down again. When I was able to lift my head I could see the look on his face and it was heartbreaking. He asks me where we should go and I'm a complete mess again, can't answer anything other than "not by my team" and so we sort of scamper to the other side of the floor to find a room. Now my entire team is perched looking in our direction as we turn to walk away. I caught a glimpse of this scene before we ran across the hallway to the other side. They looked like they'd never seen a sloppy loudly sobbing girl in a skirt suit in the middle of their office. What?
We found a room and sat there for a really long time, talking about the whole situation. B recognized that I didn't want to hear anything about any form of silver lining. He said exactly the right things. He hugged me for a long, long time. I could see the sadness on his face, the disappointment. He had hoped right along with me. And now he was hurting with me, too.
Finally I was able to stop crying long enough to walk back to my desk, shut everything down, and get the hell out of there.
The next day I had multiple people come up to me to ask if I was ok. It was not ok. I mean, I have a strict code of conduct for myself...you can cry at work if you're in the safety of a locked room where no one can see you and it's not written all over your face afterward. It was quite the hot mess. I never thought it would hit me that hard. I mean, I knew it would be awful, but I never thought I could have that much hope that it could crush me so dramatically.
It doesn't help that they're pumping us full of hormones for all of this, no?
So alas, I'm "that girl" now. No one knows what the hell was going down that afternoon...but I'm sure they've got theories. I'm only crying a couple of times a day now...and less every day. I can laugh at some if it too now. That's the most important part. One day I'll think more about the silver lining than the devastation I'm sure. ...it could be worse. I know that.
Until that day I'll just try to let the tears get less and less and let the smiles get bigger and bigger.
AF came last night. With a vengeance. It's truly over now.
I guess that just makes "moving forward" even closer...
So, in my stellar state of optimism I say that I'm going to step out for just 2 minutes to get the results and then come back in. Not a thought of the alternative result which could seriously impact my mental state during this meeting. Nope. So I step out, make the call, wait on hold, wait some more, then the nurse comes on. Just as I start to notice the pity sound in her voice my boss walks out and says "We're ready for you when you are..." (ie, please get your ass in here this is awkward). I throw up the "Absolutely, I'm so on top of this, it'll be 12 more seconds" hand gesture and listen to the nurse as she's telling me to stop taking all of my medication, this is over, there's no hope for it any longer.
In my fog, I sort of hang up on the nurse when she's trying to say "I'm so sorry to give you this bad news..." and walk back into the meeting. Luckily HR and one of my bosses is on tele-conference so the next 45 minutes that I'm about to explain are not seen by anyone else but one of my bosses, simply heard.
I start talking about the employee situation and actually sort of forget what just happened outside of that room. I'm talking about how I think we should move forward, then disagreeing with my boss about one approach, agreeing with HR on another, etc etc. I'm rocking this. I'm jotting down a few notes. All is well. Then someone says something about how they're here for me if the conversation turns in an unexpected direction with said employee. And I pause. At that moment I'm looking down at my notepad and somehow just remember the news I just got. Without even a couple of seconds to compose myself or any sort of warning, two tears stream down my face. I say something along the lines of "I'm sure it will be ok, but I also think we need to consider the possibility of this turning into a legal matter..." and more tears stream. The boss who's sitting right next to me notices and gives me this awkward face like "holy hell, are you ok? I mean, I can talk to this employee if you can't handle it..." and I turn my chair away from her and start sobbing silently. Those sobs that hurt your throat because they really need to be loud and uncontrollable but you're controlling them cuz you have shit to do...blah blah blah. I shake my head at her and mouth an apology and continue with the meeting...constant tears rolling down my cheeks.
About 25 minutes later, we all hang up. I actually sat there for another 25 minutes answering questions, asking questions, chatting...crying the ENTIRE time. It was unbelievable. I should get some sort of award for that kind of work. I was brilliant. Of course the boss that was in the room was horrified and utterly concerned. I proceeded to explain and then the loud sobs started coming and any faith I had in myself and my abilities to make it through this went out the door. I had to actually cover my face I was so uncontrollable. She said I was incredibly strong, and all that. It was nice, but there wasn't a thing out there that was going to stop the waterworks at this point.
I called B from the little room I was sitting in but he didn't answer. I finally decided, after my boss had left and I'd been sitting there for way too long alone, crying, that I needed to move locations and find B. Not a good idea. I should have stayed in that room for hours.
So I somehow get the tears to stop and wipe the mascara from my chin, and step outside. I sort of put my notebook over my face as I walked down the hall, down the stairs, to B's desk. Of course, he wasn't there...instead one of our senior managers was standing there handing out ICE CREAM for god's sake. I mean, wtf? My face is bright red and amazingly puffy at this point. He looks at me. I look back at him. He knows this is an awkward moment for me but probably more awkward for him. The moment took probably 14 times longer than it needed to. And then I scurried through a hallway to the other side of the floor so I could get back to my own desk...or a room...safety.
Not in the cards.
I walk back upstairs and see my old boss standing there. She knows what's going on with the IVF. She knew today was a big day. She saw the mascara still left on my cheeks and the blood shot everything all over my face. She gave me a sort of "Oh no, no no no..." face and then I lost it again. Right in the middle of the hallway by the stair well. She starts walking toward me so we can go into a room somewhere and when I turn toward my desk three ladies on my team are staring right at me. All three of them see me make my first uncontrollable loud sob in the middle of a hallway. I turn around and actually face a wall and sob several more times. I'm standing there, facing a wall, crying...my old boss kind of directing me to walk somewhere. We turn toward the stairwell again and two gentlemen are walking toward us. So I turn around again and sort of do a double two-step shuffle type move and she grabs my shoulders and says "bathroom, go".
Good lord.
So we walk into the bathroom and I completely break down. I look in the mirror and I've never seen anything like it. If you try to hold your sobs in, and it's actually unsuccessful, it makes a really horrific looking situation. She stood in the bathroom with me for a good five minutes. Hugged me. Said some very nice things and asked if I wanted to go get some tea, leave the building, whatever. My purse is held hostage at my desk, surrounded by all of my employees...so she offers to go grab it.
We walk out after a woman walks into the bathroom and sees me cowering by the paper towel dispenser. I'm starting to compose myself luckily and feel somewhat ok to be out of the bathroom where other people can see me. I turn a corner and B is standing right there. Seriously the millisecond that I saw him I broke down again. When I was able to lift my head I could see the look on his face and it was heartbreaking. He asks me where we should go and I'm a complete mess again, can't answer anything other than "not by my team" and so we sort of scamper to the other side of the floor to find a room. Now my entire team is perched looking in our direction as we turn to walk away. I caught a glimpse of this scene before we ran across the hallway to the other side. They looked like they'd never seen a sloppy loudly sobbing girl in a skirt suit in the middle of their office. What?
We found a room and sat there for a really long time, talking about the whole situation. B recognized that I didn't want to hear anything about any form of silver lining. He said exactly the right things. He hugged me for a long, long time. I could see the sadness on his face, the disappointment. He had hoped right along with me. And now he was hurting with me, too.
Finally I was able to stop crying long enough to walk back to my desk, shut everything down, and get the hell out of there.
The next day I had multiple people come up to me to ask if I was ok. It was not ok. I mean, I have a strict code of conduct for myself...you can cry at work if you're in the safety of a locked room where no one can see you and it's not written all over your face afterward. It was quite the hot mess. I never thought it would hit me that hard. I mean, I knew it would be awful, but I never thought I could have that much hope that it could crush me so dramatically.
It doesn't help that they're pumping us full of hormones for all of this, no?
So alas, I'm "that girl" now. No one knows what the hell was going down that afternoon...but I'm sure they've got theories. I'm only crying a couple of times a day now...and less every day. I can laugh at some if it too now. That's the most important part. One day I'll think more about the silver lining than the devastation I'm sure. ...it could be worse. I know that.
Until that day I'll just try to let the tears get less and less and let the smiles get bigger and bigger.
AF came last night. With a vengeance. It's truly over now.
I guess that just makes "moving forward" even closer...
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Dry Eyes
I don't think I've cried that much ... well... ever. I mean, my eyes literally felt like they were bugging out of my head. I was squeezing tears out so quickly they just dried up and were ready to vacate. I woke up this morning to a malformed puff staring back at me in the mirror. I could hardly open my eyes they were so puffy. IVF has some additional side effects they don't talk about in all the books. Dry, tired, puffy, post-crying eyes; wasn't expecting that. At least not that much.
It was a rough night, that's for sure. I think the hardest part was not taking the medication. I have a secret...I still haven't taken my estrogen patches off. I know, I'm sick. Maybe I should in fact drive over hope with my car repeatedly. Hope makes me stupid.
But honestly, I'm not actually hoping on this one anymore. I just don't want to stop the medicine, it's like giving up on it in an unnatural way. I tried to talk B into letting me go ahead and just do the suppositories one more day. He's a smart man and said no...no, that's probably not ok. I promptly cried for the 43rd time and he still held me. Like I said, he's a smart man. The best, most understanding one in the whole world.
I called Dr. Z's office this morning to make sure that they really wanted me to stop EVERYTHING. I mean, maybe they just meant cut back. Or stop a little. Right? No, wrong. They confirmed, I'm a nut job.
So it's back to do another beta tomorrow morning. I'm sure I'll cry when I get there. Maybe in the chair. That blood draw lady knows me too well, she'll probably say something like "You're still here! Congrats!" And I'll start crying and it'll be phenomenally awkward.
Oh, did I tell you that I got the call from the doctor while I was at work? Oh man, I'll have to tell you about it tomorrow. It was epic. I'm going to be a legend in my office.
It was a rough night, that's for sure. I think the hardest part was not taking the medication. I have a secret...I still haven't taken my estrogen patches off. I know, I'm sick. Maybe I should in fact drive over hope with my car repeatedly. Hope makes me stupid.
But honestly, I'm not actually hoping on this one anymore. I just don't want to stop the medicine, it's like giving up on it in an unnatural way. I tried to talk B into letting me go ahead and just do the suppositories one more day. He's a smart man and said no...no, that's probably not ok. I promptly cried for the 43rd time and he still held me. Like I said, he's a smart man. The best, most understanding one in the whole world.
I called Dr. Z's office this morning to make sure that they really wanted me to stop EVERYTHING. I mean, maybe they just meant cut back. Or stop a little. Right? No, wrong. They confirmed, I'm a nut job.
So it's back to do another beta tomorrow morning. I'm sure I'll cry when I get there. Maybe in the chair. That blood draw lady knows me too well, she'll probably say something like "You're still here! Congrats!" And I'll start crying and it'll be phenomenally awkward.
Oh, did I tell you that I got the call from the doctor while I was at work? Oh man, I'll have to tell you about it tomorrow. It was epic. I'm going to be a legend in my office.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
A short, beautiful ride
It's over. The doctor is taking me off all progesterone and estrogen. My number today was 115, and the last little speck of hope blew out the window when the nurse said no more progesterone. I can't believe it, I even thought for a second after I heard that number that maybe it was just slow. After all of this, I still wanted to hold on.
So let's talk. Frankly. I was very close to writing a cynical and dark post about the failure I'm feeling or the bastard that is "hope". But then I read through my last post's comments (those amazing comments...thank you), and I realized that there are so many reasons to not run over hope with my car, several times, no matter what this disgusting feeling I have makes me want to do. Let's examine that a little further.
Hope makes me angry, it makes me want to stomp around and hold my breath and throw a glorious little toddler tantrum like you all know I'm way too good at. It makes me want to vomit. But it also gave me an amazing few days of feeling
*pregnant.
I got to have it for a little while, whether it was way too short or way too small. And it may have been pathetic to hope, with the way those nurses looked at me every time I came into the office- that pity look. The one that says "aw hun, you're cute for believing...we feel for you, and this is gonna be a hard crash you feel later. But maybe...maybe..." But I got to feel it. And it was beautiful. That's the only word I can think of to really describe it.
This hurts like hell. I don't want to think about how we have to start all over. Or how we only have a couple more chances, if that. Or the genetic testing Dr. Z wants to try. After a good solid cry at my office (absolutely in front of more than three people- totally against my code of conduct) I decided I was done for the day. My splotchy face and bright red eyes weren't going to cut it at work today. So I'll hug my husband, I'll let my cat entertain me, I'll talk to all of you...and I'll sulk. And then tomorrow, maybe, I'll remind myself that there is a silver lining. That we got pregnant, no matter how doomed it was from the beginning. And I'll remind myself that we can be a success story later. That we WILL be a success story later. In the right time.
So let's talk. Frankly. I was very close to writing a cynical and dark post about the failure I'm feeling or the bastard that is "hope". But then I read through my last post's comments (those amazing comments...thank you), and I realized that there are so many reasons to not run over hope with my car, several times, no matter what this disgusting feeling I have makes me want to do. Let's examine that a little further.
Hope makes me angry, it makes me want to stomp around and hold my breath and throw a glorious little toddler tantrum like you all know I'm way too good at. It makes me want to vomit. But it also gave me an amazing few days of feeling
*pregnant.
I got to have it for a little while, whether it was way too short or way too small. And it may have been pathetic to hope, with the way those nurses looked at me every time I came into the office- that pity look. The one that says "aw hun, you're cute for believing...we feel for you, and this is gonna be a hard crash you feel later. But maybe...maybe..." But I got to feel it. And it was beautiful. That's the only word I can think of to really describe it.
This hurts like hell. I don't want to think about how we have to start all over. Or how we only have a couple more chances, if that. Or the genetic testing Dr. Z wants to try. After a good solid cry at my office (absolutely in front of more than three people- totally against my code of conduct) I decided I was done for the day. My splotchy face and bright red eyes weren't going to cut it at work today. So I'll hug my husband, I'll let my cat entertain me, I'll talk to all of you...and I'll sulk. And then tomorrow, maybe, I'll remind myself that there is a silver lining. That we got pregnant, no matter how doomed it was from the beginning. And I'll remind myself that we can be a success story later. That we WILL be a success story later. In the right time.
Monday, August 9, 2010
"Cautiously Optimistic"...what does that even mean???
I mean, I'm either optimistic or pessimistic it seems. Cautious doesn't really come into play. But right now, I'm feeling optimistic! We got an 84!!!! 84!!! You blew 12 out of the water P & D! I'm so proud :)
The nurse said that we need to be "cautiously optimistic" because that number is still ridiculously too low. It appropriately doubled, and actually more than doubled. Almost tripled. But they don't feel good about an 84 at 18dpo. I mean, do you feel good about an 84 at 18dpo? Let's be honest. Not so much. But c'mon, I'm still pregnant, y'all!
I feel it too. I went out for yogurt today with some coworkers and had to sit outside because there weren't any tables left. It was blazingly hot and I felt like I was going to pass out! Then the nausea set in and I was done for. I just got up and went inside. Momma needs her Air Conditioning! Everytime I feel nauseous I get so excited. Although it could be from the progesterone, at this point with an 84 HCG level, I'm pregnant. SO I'm blaming it on that! :)
I have to go back in on Wednesday to see what happens. I really want to see a tripled number, so we can start to feel like this may happen instead of just hearing the pity in our nurses' voices. If it goes up high enough, will they start having hope for us? Will they maybe consider this a real possibility? I asked her if she'd ever seen this actually happen, with numbers so low. She said she couldn't say...it was too hard to tell. That doesn't even make sense! Basically, "no honey, but keep on truckin". Eh, there are some things that doctors don't know; can't know. I've always been good at that- let's shock the doctors again. C'mon little ones, let's make them wonder! Let's be the success story that I've been looking for. We don't need anyone else to do it, just us.
Pray for over 200...but I'll take anything over 168 :)
The nurse said that we need to be "cautiously optimistic" because that number is still ridiculously too low. It appropriately doubled, and actually more than doubled. Almost tripled. But they don't feel good about an 84 at 18dpo. I mean, do you feel good about an 84 at 18dpo? Let's be honest. Not so much. But c'mon, I'm still pregnant, y'all!
I feel it too. I went out for yogurt today with some coworkers and had to sit outside because there weren't any tables left. It was blazingly hot and I felt like I was going to pass out! Then the nausea set in and I was done for. I just got up and went inside. Momma needs her Air Conditioning! Everytime I feel nauseous I get so excited. Although it could be from the progesterone, at this point with an 84 HCG level, I'm pregnant. SO I'm blaming it on that! :)
I have to go back in on Wednesday to see what happens. I really want to see a tripled number, so we can start to feel like this may happen instead of just hearing the pity in our nurses' voices. If it goes up high enough, will they start having hope for us? Will they maybe consider this a real possibility? I asked her if she'd ever seen this actually happen, with numbers so low. She said she couldn't say...it was too hard to tell. That doesn't even make sense! Basically, "no honey, but keep on truckin". Eh, there are some things that doctors don't know; can't know. I've always been good at that- let's shock the doctors again. C'mon little ones, let's make them wonder! Let's be the success story that I've been looking for. We don't need anyone else to do it, just us.
Pray for over 200...but I'll take anything over 168 :)
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Last bit of hope
Alright, the weekend is almost over. Tomorrow is another day of hoping and dreading. But let's be honest, there are only two definitive outcomes here, only one that seems to be a real possibility... Either the doctor says it's down to zero and it's over, or by the grace of God the number spikes to 200 or something crazy and I can feel good about this "pregnancy" actually making it. Otherwise, if the number goes up to around 50, we'll still be on the wait and see ride, waiting for either a miscarriage or a miracle. Or the number will go up to 20 or something and then I'm worried about an ectopic. Let's just hope for a definitive tomorrow, this has been really hard. I'm ready for the bus ride to take us somewhere real. Limbo is a lonely and ominous place to be.
Today I feel less optimistic. Probably because we're getting closer to some sort of result and I want to protect myself more. When I had a few days left, it felt good to let that down just a little bit and day dream that this could work, that we would stay "pregnant" for a little while longer at least. Now I don't really want to think that, because I hate that feeling of disappointment. Expect the worst. Hope for...something other than the worst. Anything other than the worst.
I have so much going on at work right now. I wish I could let some of that go, just for a while, so I can focus on avoiding stress and taking care of me. And taking care of B. I feel like every minute at work I have to be on, or I'm going to drop one of the very important balls I'm dropping. And every minute at home I need to be doing something to save this pregnancy...but I have no idea what that could be. Lay down? Eat something different? Sleep? Research?
I need to relax, but that's so stressful. Has that ever happened to you? You stress about relaxing? How moronic. But it's real. I got a pedicure today and was freaking out that I wasn't letting myself relax enough. I turned on the back massager on the chair and when it was jiggling my stomach I freaked out that it would be hurting Petrie and Ducky. I mean, what's wrong with me?! I went to Costco and when I had to lift a big box to get it from my cart into my truck, I almost had a panic attack. This isn't healthy. ...Limbo is a lonely and ominous place to be.
I need an answer...at least a little bit more of an answer than I already have.
We'll see what we get tomorrow. Please hope for B and I, and P&D. They're just little guys, they need all the help they can get! And I need some help in the hope department. It's running out fast, I feel like I'm cashing in my last little bit on a losing hand. Will I have any left? I may really need it later...
Today I feel less optimistic. Probably because we're getting closer to some sort of result and I want to protect myself more. When I had a few days left, it felt good to let that down just a little bit and day dream that this could work, that we would stay "pregnant" for a little while longer at least. Now I don't really want to think that, because I hate that feeling of disappointment. Expect the worst. Hope for...something other than the worst. Anything other than the worst.
I have so much going on at work right now. I wish I could let some of that go, just for a while, so I can focus on avoiding stress and taking care of me. And taking care of B. I feel like every minute at work I have to be on, or I'm going to drop one of the very important balls I'm dropping. And every minute at home I need to be doing something to save this pregnancy...but I have no idea what that could be. Lay down? Eat something different? Sleep? Research?
I need to relax, but that's so stressful. Has that ever happened to you? You stress about relaxing? How moronic. But it's real. I got a pedicure today and was freaking out that I wasn't letting myself relax enough. I turned on the back massager on the chair and when it was jiggling my stomach I freaked out that it would be hurting Petrie and Ducky. I mean, what's wrong with me?! I went to Costco and when I had to lift a big box to get it from my cart into my truck, I almost had a panic attack. This isn't healthy. ...Limbo is a lonely and ominous place to be.
I need an answer...at least a little bit more of an answer than I already have.
We'll see what we get tomorrow. Please hope for B and I, and P&D. They're just little guys, they need all the help they can get! And I need some help in the hope department. It's running out fast, I feel like I'm cashing in my last little bit on a losing hand. Will I have any left? I may really need it later...
Saturday, August 7, 2010
2ww +
I hate that little + on top of the 2ww. Still waiting here.
This is going to be a loooong weekend. Saturday is getting close to winding down, so that's good. Maybe I'll go to sleep super early in hopes that Monday will get here faster. But then Monday, well Monday...Monday I'm sort of dreading.
Being "pregnant" is amazing. I can't wait to one day be Pregnant without the quotes around it. But right now, in this moment, the possibility that I'm still "pregnant" is a beautiful thing. I'm over analyzing EVERYTHING of course, and scaring myself incessantly on google, but it's a possibility still. A little tiny hope that this could still work out.
That could be devastating.
But it could also be wonderful. Just a little tiny piece of it could turn out wonderful. I wish I had some statistics other than "very few and far between", but I'll stick with that as "more than never" and be glad about it. Just a tiny bit.
We're still talking to Petrie and Ducky. Which, by the way, it should be Petri...but Petrie just looks better. We talk to them like there's no chance they're not in there. It feels so so so much better than those first days after the transfer when it felt like there was no way and it was just a big lie. I mean, I literally CAN'T believe we made it this far. We actually got pregnant! Even if it's just a little bit pregnant, just for a minute.
So keep hoping for us, for Monday. I still have quite the guard up just because I can't let that down without reminding myself of the obvious. But there's a little more light within me right now, and that feels amazing.
Oh, for those who care or want to know, here's a little recap of my 2ww +:
I started out horridly discouraged after the transfer. I had some mild cramping and abdominal pain left from the stimming, and a couple days after the transfer I had horrible back pain (mainly from just lying down for too long). When I finally got up and moving, I had a lot of light-headedness and dizzy type spells. I got a little nauseous right off the bat from the progesterone I'm sure. That's been on and off since the transfer. My boobs weren't very sore at all until about 12dpo. I got some weird sore skin type feelings all over my upper body around 9-10dpo. Mostly around my shoulders, and it hurt to the touch. Then I started feeling better. Overall just better. My stomach didn't hurt anymore at all really, starting around 8dpo (3dp5dt). I had indigestion and gas though, but not that stretching sharp pain, or that full feeling.
Then at 13dpo I got some serious AF type cramps. The bloated feeling was definitely coming back. I had lower back pain. I was super irritable, my boobs were getting more sore. 14dpo, test day, I had more of that abdominal pain like the stimming. Pain up in my diaphragm, like things were moving around. 15dpo, day after test day (yesterday) I woke up with hardly any pain and I was pretty sad. My stomach felt better. But around late afternoon I started feeling it again.
Today, 16dpo, I've had some sharp pains in my lower abdomen, a little bit of that stomach pain, some nausea still. Oh, and I'm getting more tired, but having a little trouble sleeping.
So that's that- the overly analyzed symptoms of my 2ww+, which probably mean absolutely NOTHING because I'm swimming in progesterone and estrogen over here. Now if we can just get me swimming in HCG, I'd be happy. C'mon 50!!! Give me 50 little guys, I know you're in there!!! That 12 was cute and all, but I really need some big numbers. Big Numbers, No Whammies!
This is going to be a loooong weekend. Saturday is getting close to winding down, so that's good. Maybe I'll go to sleep super early in hopes that Monday will get here faster. But then Monday, well Monday...Monday I'm sort of dreading.
Being "pregnant" is amazing. I can't wait to one day be Pregnant without the quotes around it. But right now, in this moment, the possibility that I'm still "pregnant" is a beautiful thing. I'm over analyzing EVERYTHING of course, and scaring myself incessantly on google, but it's a possibility still. A little tiny hope that this could still work out.
That could be devastating.
But it could also be wonderful. Just a little tiny piece of it could turn out wonderful. I wish I had some statistics other than "very few and far between", but I'll stick with that as "more than never" and be glad about it. Just a tiny bit.
We're still talking to Petrie and Ducky. Which, by the way, it should be Petri...but Petrie just looks better. We talk to them like there's no chance they're not in there. It feels so so so much better than those first days after the transfer when it felt like there was no way and it was just a big lie. I mean, I literally CAN'T believe we made it this far. We actually got pregnant! Even if it's just a little bit pregnant, just for a minute.
So keep hoping for us, for Monday. I still have quite the guard up just because I can't let that down without reminding myself of the obvious. But there's a little more light within me right now, and that feels amazing.
Oh, for those who care or want to know, here's a little recap of my 2ww +:
I started out horridly discouraged after the transfer. I had some mild cramping and abdominal pain left from the stimming, and a couple days after the transfer I had horrible back pain (mainly from just lying down for too long). When I finally got up and moving, I had a lot of light-headedness and dizzy type spells. I got a little nauseous right off the bat from the progesterone I'm sure. That's been on and off since the transfer. My boobs weren't very sore at all until about 12dpo. I got some weird sore skin type feelings all over my upper body around 9-10dpo. Mostly around my shoulders, and it hurt to the touch. Then I started feeling better. Overall just better. My stomach didn't hurt anymore at all really, starting around 8dpo (3dp5dt). I had indigestion and gas though, but not that stretching sharp pain, or that full feeling.
Then at 13dpo I got some serious AF type cramps. The bloated feeling was definitely coming back. I had lower back pain. I was super irritable, my boobs were getting more sore. 14dpo, test day, I had more of that abdominal pain like the stimming. Pain up in my diaphragm, like things were moving around. 15dpo, day after test day (yesterday) I woke up with hardly any pain and I was pretty sad. My stomach felt better. But around late afternoon I started feeling it again.
Today, 16dpo, I've had some sharp pains in my lower abdomen, a little bit of that stomach pain, some nausea still. Oh, and I'm getting more tired, but having a little trouble sleeping.
So that's that- the overly analyzed symptoms of my 2ww+, which probably mean absolutely NOTHING because I'm swimming in progesterone and estrogen over here. Now if we can just get me swimming in HCG, I'd be happy. C'mon 50!!! Give me 50 little guys, I know you're in there!!! That 12 was cute and all, but I really need some big numbers. Big Numbers, No Whammies!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Just Wreckless
Why? Why does it have to be so friggin difficult?
I was dead set on today being a day of serious let down or ridiculous excitement. But alas, today is a day of plain old panic/confusion/awkardness/confusion/wonder.
Dr. Z called me directly and started off with "I've got good news and I've got bad news." I mean WTF does that mean? You can't say shit like that to me, I'm hormonal!
So he proceeded to tell me that I'm pregnant. Enter collective gasp! ::Faint:: So I say "What?" He says "You're pregnant." I say "What?" He says "You're PREGNANT". I say "Seriously?" He gets slightly irritated.
Then I remember his previous caveat. "I've got good news and I've got bad news."
Enter collective "WTF?" (For Grammy, that means What the Heck?...)
So then he tells me my HCG level is 12.
12.
For those not way-too-knowledgeable-about-pregnancy-and-IVF-for-their-own-good like me, 12 is a bad number.
I asked Dr. Z what he would like to see at 14dpo (even though I know the answer), and he says somewhere around 60-70 would be good, higher would be ideal. Mine is 12.
I'll give you another moment with that number.
12.
He says that he's seen numbers this low end up good, but very few and far between. So, we're on the wait and see bus now. It's a bus ride full of bullshit and splendor. Riding through fear and doubt, covered in hope with a little dread.
We have another Beta test on Monday morning. It has to be up to 50 for Dr. Z to keep me on medicine and let me ride this out.
I so so so wanted to be excited if I even heard the word pregnant. And I promised that I would be! I mean, I made it public on the internet that I would be. That's serious. And then this happens and totally flips my entire plan. I had a PLAN! damn.
So today I'm feeling "cautiously optimistic" as the doctor put it. Definitely not excited. I mean, few and far between is not exactly a mathematical statistic or anything, but if it was it would look something like "YOU SUCK".
I feel pathetic. Like I did something wrong or something. I know, I totally didn't. I rocked this 2ww. I mean, I laid down for like 72 hours, and I'm awful at doing that. I even made sure to take my baby aspirin all but one day. And I totally rocked the progesterone- I'm even what I would like to call "good" at progesterone suppositories. It's possible, I'm living it.
I did eat an awful lot of sugar and maybe a few hundred more grams of carbs than necessary. But I think that's ok in my eyes. Any child of mine would totally love that. Definitely wouldn't be the cause of any low HCG levels. Right?
So here are my super scientific theories on why One Day's HCG presented an ever enthusiastic 12 on test day:
THEORY 1. We're slow. We like to do things slow around here. I mean, we walk fast because we're awkwardly tall and that's just how our legs take us, but really our actual pace is pretty slow on a regular basis. So I think that these little embryos are a little slow too. Let's examine further.
1a. We had 7 eggs fertilize on day 1 (or 2 or whatever). The next time they checked out said eggies, 11 were fertilized. Yes, we had 4 slow fertilizing eggs. Was it the sperm? Were they slow sperm? Was it the eggies? Slow eggies? Was it the lab? Did it all just look different but they had actually fertilized appropriately before? None of that matters! STAY FOCUSED!
1b. We had 9 beautiful looking embryos on Day 3. Rockstars if I don't say so myself. These were champions people, cream of the crop. On day 5, not one of those little champs looked like Day 5. Do you wanna know why? CUZ THEY DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT. They were just taking their time. Ripening is a good way to look at it. They had decided another day would be best before proper "ripening", they were getting there.
1c. Those "not-so-good" embryos don't really have much shot at implanting. BUT, I have HCG. Which means there had to be some sort of implantation, right? Soooooo, the whole point of this theory: They were just slow to implant! Obviously! The 12 was just because little Petrie and Ducky have been lagging the whole time, and they're probably girls and really need to take their time, and implantation was no different. So they just recently implanted and threw out their very first attempt at this HCG business (which really is a tough business to get rolling, I mean, they're babies. They're not rocket scientists...yet). So 12 was like they were just going "Hey there. Nice to meet you. We're here, just getting settled in. We'll see you again on Monday."
THEORY 2. I'm awkward. Everything about me is awkward. I mean, not me as a person- I'm pretty awesome actually. But my body is super awkward. It does things awfully. (Except swimming. That's the one thing it does really, really well. And it was pretty rock star at it. But everything else it does pretty awful.) Like take for instance my tonsils. Those are supposed to sit in your throat and chill. That's they're job, ish. But instead, my tonsils decided to do that awfully and get super gross infected and collect gross bacteria and be labeled "cryptic" and cause me to get an awful fever and a big pussy abscess and then demand to be ripped out at the ever so lovely age of 21. Ew, don't get your tonsils out that old, by the way. It's awful. But then my throat was awesome after that! So those tonsils did their job awfully but look what happened when modern medicine intervened. Well, the same thing goes for my reproductive system, obviously. So instead of getting pregnant normally, like it's supposed to, my reproductive system has decided to do it really, really poorly. Not that it won't happen, and it'll be rock star, but it'll just happen really awfully. Like, I'll get fluid in my uterus when it's supposed to be all nice and clean and pretty for a baby to be implanted in it. Then that will fall out really grossly. Then I'll produce awesome eggs that will fertilize pretty awfully and then fertilize pretty good, and then develop well, and then develop super awfully. And then we'll transfer embryos and then they'll implant super awfully and give a pathetic number of 12 on their HCG test and then we'll probably get all kinds of awful numbers and I'll probably have all kinds of problems, and then we'll have a baby and then it won't have anything to do with my awful body anymore and it will be AWESOME!
So those are my incredibly scientific theories on the number 12.
If you have any sort of success story with such a low low low beta number that looks almost laughable, please let me know. If you know of anyone who had a neighbor with a cousin who's cat has a success story with such a low pathetic beta number, please let me know. Comment away bloggy friends, I need a little help here. The internets aren't doing their job and telling me everything I want to hear. They're telling me things like "My number was 45 and it was so horrible" and then I'm like...12. Yikes.
If you don't have a story, go ahead and lie to me. That's cool, I'm good with that. I won't judge you or berate you later. I promise. ish.
If you have a sad story about a beta of 12, go ahead and tell you're neighbor's cousins cat. Cuz I don't wanna hear it.
;)
I was dead set on today being a day of serious let down or ridiculous excitement. But alas, today is a day of plain old panic/confusion/awkardness/confusion/wonder.
Dr. Z called me directly and started off with "I've got good news and I've got bad news." I mean WTF does that mean? You can't say shit like that to me, I'm hormonal!
So he proceeded to tell me that I'm pregnant. Enter collective gasp! ::Faint:: So I say "What?" He says "You're pregnant." I say "What?" He says "You're PREGNANT". I say "Seriously?" He gets slightly irritated.
Then I remember his previous caveat. "I've got good news and I've got bad news."
Enter collective "WTF?" (For Grammy, that means What the Heck?...)
So then he tells me my HCG level is 12.
12.
For those not way-too-knowledgeable-about-pregnancy-and-IVF-for-their-own-good like me, 12 is a bad number.
I asked Dr. Z what he would like to see at 14dpo (even though I know the answer), and he says somewhere around 60-70 would be good, higher would be ideal. Mine is 12.
I'll give you another moment with that number.
12.
He says that he's seen numbers this low end up good, but very few and far between. So, we're on the wait and see bus now. It's a bus ride full of bullshit and splendor. Riding through fear and doubt, covered in hope with a little dread.
We have another Beta test on Monday morning. It has to be up to 50 for Dr. Z to keep me on medicine and let me ride this out.
I so so so wanted to be excited if I even heard the word pregnant. And I promised that I would be! I mean, I made it public on the internet that I would be. That's serious. And then this happens and totally flips my entire plan. I had a PLAN! damn.
So today I'm feeling "cautiously optimistic" as the doctor put it. Definitely not excited. I mean, few and far between is not exactly a mathematical statistic or anything, but if it was it would look something like "YOU SUCK".
I feel pathetic. Like I did something wrong or something. I know, I totally didn't. I rocked this 2ww. I mean, I laid down for like 72 hours, and I'm awful at doing that. I even made sure to take my baby aspirin all but one day. And I totally rocked the progesterone- I'm even what I would like to call "good" at progesterone suppositories. It's possible, I'm living it.
I did eat an awful lot of sugar and maybe a few hundred more grams of carbs than necessary. But I think that's ok in my eyes. Any child of mine would totally love that. Definitely wouldn't be the cause of any low HCG levels. Right?
So here are my super scientific theories on why One Day's HCG presented an ever enthusiastic 12 on test day:
THEORY 1. We're slow. We like to do things slow around here. I mean, we walk fast because we're awkwardly tall and that's just how our legs take us, but really our actual pace is pretty slow on a regular basis. So I think that these little embryos are a little slow too. Let's examine further.
1a. We had 7 eggs fertilize on day 1 (or 2 or whatever). The next time they checked out said eggies, 11 were fertilized. Yes, we had 4 slow fertilizing eggs. Was it the sperm? Were they slow sperm? Was it the eggies? Slow eggies? Was it the lab? Did it all just look different but they had actually fertilized appropriately before? None of that matters! STAY FOCUSED!
1b. We had 9 beautiful looking embryos on Day 3. Rockstars if I don't say so myself. These were champions people, cream of the crop. On day 5, not one of those little champs looked like Day 5. Do you wanna know why? CUZ THEY DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT. They were just taking their time. Ripening is a good way to look at it. They had decided another day would be best before proper "ripening", they were getting there.
1c. Those "not-so-good" embryos don't really have much shot at implanting. BUT, I have HCG. Which means there had to be some sort of implantation, right? Soooooo, the whole point of this theory: They were just slow to implant! Obviously! The 12 was just because little Petrie and Ducky have been lagging the whole time, and they're probably girls and really need to take their time, and implantation was no different. So they just recently implanted and threw out their very first attempt at this HCG business (which really is a tough business to get rolling, I mean, they're babies. They're not rocket scientists...yet). So 12 was like they were just going "Hey there. Nice to meet you. We're here, just getting settled in. We'll see you again on Monday."
THEORY 2. I'm awkward. Everything about me is awkward. I mean, not me as a person- I'm pretty awesome actually. But my body is super awkward. It does things awfully. (Except swimming. That's the one thing it does really, really well. And it was pretty rock star at it. But everything else it does pretty awful.) Like take for instance my tonsils. Those are supposed to sit in your throat and chill. That's they're job, ish. But instead, my tonsils decided to do that awfully and get super gross infected and collect gross bacteria and be labeled "cryptic" and cause me to get an awful fever and a big pussy abscess and then demand to be ripped out at the ever so lovely age of 21. Ew, don't get your tonsils out that old, by the way. It's awful. But then my throat was awesome after that! So those tonsils did their job awfully but look what happened when modern medicine intervened. Well, the same thing goes for my reproductive system, obviously. So instead of getting pregnant normally, like it's supposed to, my reproductive system has decided to do it really, really poorly. Not that it won't happen, and it'll be rock star, but it'll just happen really awfully. Like, I'll get fluid in my uterus when it's supposed to be all nice and clean and pretty for a baby to be implanted in it. Then that will fall out really grossly. Then I'll produce awesome eggs that will fertilize pretty awfully and then fertilize pretty good, and then develop well, and then develop super awfully. And then we'll transfer embryos and then they'll implant super awfully and give a pathetic number of 12 on their HCG test and then we'll probably get all kinds of awful numbers and I'll probably have all kinds of problems, and then we'll have a baby and then it won't have anything to do with my awful body anymore and it will be AWESOME!
So those are my incredibly scientific theories on the number 12.
If you have any sort of success story with such a low low low beta number that looks almost laughable, please let me know. If you know of anyone who had a neighbor with a cousin who's cat has a success story with such a low pathetic beta number, please let me know. Comment away bloggy friends, I need a little help here. The internets aren't doing their job and telling me everything I want to hear. They're telling me things like "My number was 45 and it was so horrible" and then I'm like...12. Yikes.
If you don't have a story, go ahead and lie to me. That's cool, I'm good with that. I won't judge you or berate you later. I promise. ish.
If you have a sad story about a beta of 12, go ahead and tell you're neighbor's cousins cat. Cuz I don't wanna hear it.
;)
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Last Day
Ok, sorry about that. Yesterday was a rough day. I'm feeling a little better today. Don't know if it's a little more optomistic or just a little less pessimistic (there's totally a difference). But I'm not nearly as depressing, so good news for everyone!
I've been somewhat physically miserable today.. Is it weird that that sort of helps the mental game? My stomach hurts like I'm about to see AF- but I'm on progesterone, so I don't think that happens too often. And I've read that this could be a good sign. Not counting any chickens here, just not killing them either. You're welcome, chickens.
Tomorrow morning I'll let them stick a needle in my arm with the possibility of absolutely crushing my spirit later in the day. And I promise not to hurt the lady who does it. At least not out loud- I'm sure I'll be saying horrible curses at her in my head. But I also promise not to cry in front of any strangers tomorrow, or my co-workers. That's a deal breaker. No crying at work- at least not unless I'm tucked into an awkward conference room (aka Safe Zone).
I will not, however, make any sort of nonsense promises to look on the bright side tomorrow if things don't go our way. I will, eventually. But not tomorrow. That's a free day to be uber sad and maybe even straight full of rage. It's my cycle and I'll cry if I want to (alone or with B).
If things go our way, I promise to be way way way too excited and not get bogged down in the "wait no, this doesn't mean we're out of the woods" thoughts until day 2. Tomorrow is a free day. I will be excited. I will tell everyone who knows that we're going through IVF. Day 2, I will regret this.
Sounds like a good plan.
So don't be expecting any sort of stable post tomorrow. It will be manic. Either wrecklessly happy or excessively suicidal. No, not really. I'm ok on that front- won't be going anywhere. Just uber sad. I think that's a good term for it. I'm feeling that a lot right now, off and on. It will be worse tomorrow. Possibly even for several days, weeks, whatevs. IF it doesn't go our way.
And you know how I told you I'd eat an unimaginable amount of sugar last night. Check! I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies this weekend and finished off the last of the batch...AND most of the extra cookie dough that I saved just for that particular mood. I think I'll have a bit more tonight, but for sure save some for tomorrow. Could come in super handy...
P&D- now is your moment. Go ahead and throw out that HCG surge you've been holding onto. I know, I know. It's greedy, but give it to me! No sense in holding it in. Go ahead and throw it out there. Share the love. Please? <3
I've been somewhat physically miserable today.. Is it weird that that sort of helps the mental game? My stomach hurts like I'm about to see AF- but I'm on progesterone, so I don't think that happens too often. And I've read that this could be a good sign. Not counting any chickens here, just not killing them either. You're welcome, chickens.
Tomorrow morning I'll let them stick a needle in my arm with the possibility of absolutely crushing my spirit later in the day. And I promise not to hurt the lady who does it. At least not out loud- I'm sure I'll be saying horrible curses at her in my head. But I also promise not to cry in front of any strangers tomorrow, or my co-workers. That's a deal breaker. No crying at work- at least not unless I'm tucked into an awkward conference room (aka Safe Zone).
I will not, however, make any sort of nonsense promises to look on the bright side tomorrow if things don't go our way. I will, eventually. But not tomorrow. That's a free day to be uber sad and maybe even straight full of rage. It's my cycle and I'll cry if I want to (alone or with B).
If things go our way, I promise to be way way way too excited and not get bogged down in the "wait no, this doesn't mean we're out of the woods" thoughts until day 2. Tomorrow is a free day. I will be excited. I will tell everyone who knows that we're going through IVF. Day 2, I will regret this.
Sounds like a good plan.
So don't be expecting any sort of stable post tomorrow. It will be manic. Either wrecklessly happy or excessively suicidal. No, not really. I'm ok on that front- won't be going anywhere. Just uber sad. I think that's a good term for it. I'm feeling that a lot right now, off and on. It will be worse tomorrow. Possibly even for several days, weeks, whatevs. IF it doesn't go our way.
And you know how I told you I'd eat an unimaginable amount of sugar last night. Check! I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies this weekend and finished off the last of the batch...AND most of the extra cookie dough that I saved just for that particular mood. I think I'll have a bit more tonight, but for sure save some for tomorrow. Could come in super handy...
P&D- now is your moment. Go ahead and throw out that HCG surge you've been holding onto. I know, I know. It's greedy, but give it to me! No sense in holding it in. Go ahead and throw it out there. Share the love. Please? <3
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The countdown
Today is 12dpo, or 7dp5dt. Today would be the day that I'd POAS with the possibility of seeing a second line, if there would ever be one. Of course, there could still be that chance that it wouldn't be there just yet...but a much smaller chance. Could I see a second line? For real?
I choose to stay away. Maybe my pessimism has taken over too strongly, or maybe just realistically. Or maybe I'm just waiting. Period. But I choose to have two more days of hope. I've decided that I'll stay "pregnant" for two more precious days. At least.
I got the call from Dr. Z's office today confirming our appointment for Thursday morning bloodwork. I sounded obviously broken on the phone. I wish I was stronger and my hope was more enduring. I hope I'm wrong.
But work has been such a great thing for me these last two days. I have an unimaginable amount of stuff going on right now at the office, and it is acting superbly as an IVF take-over block. I don't have time to sit and wonder. Or google.
Then there are those quiet moments in the car, or late at night, or first thing in the morning. Those moments of injections or suppositories. Those hurt a little more than I'd like to admit right now. They let the doubt back in.
I'd like to say that this will make it feel better if the "not-so-good" happens on Thursday afternoon. But I'm not sure that's true. We'll have to see. Am I effectively guarding my heart? Or am I just ruining this entire experience for myself? For those not "lucky" enough to feel this IVF process first-hand, it's a world crusher in so many ways. The roller coaster of hope and doubt are one thing. But the entire process of "who the hell knows" and "wait and see" are so implosive, it's unreal. I wish none of this on you.
For those of you who have felt it, or who are feeling it, my admiration goes out to you. I've seen so many women on these blogs demonstrate an entirely foreign amount of strength, perseverance, and dedication. I pray to be like all of you. You are truly heroes; to me, to your families, and to your children (born or unborn). Thank you for sharing your experiences with me.
Tonight I will try to avoid the quiet moments. I'll watch tv (food network) and eat unexplainable amounts of sugar. Then I'll go to sleep and wake up to one more day of waiting.
7dp5dt. How are you doing in there guys? Are you still there? Are you alive? I can't feel you, in my body or my heart. But maybe that's just my walls. Don't be disappointed, I just want you so badly that it hurts. And hurting like this isn't my forte. I'm still here. Still wondering and waiting for you.
...
Please stay with me. Please don't go.
...
I choose to stay away. Maybe my pessimism has taken over too strongly, or maybe just realistically. Or maybe I'm just waiting. Period. But I choose to have two more days of hope. I've decided that I'll stay "pregnant" for two more precious days. At least.
I got the call from Dr. Z's office today confirming our appointment for Thursday morning bloodwork. I sounded obviously broken on the phone. I wish I was stronger and my hope was more enduring. I hope I'm wrong.
But work has been such a great thing for me these last two days. I have an unimaginable amount of stuff going on right now at the office, and it is acting superbly as an IVF take-over block. I don't have time to sit and wonder. Or google.
Then there are those quiet moments in the car, or late at night, or first thing in the morning. Those moments of injections or suppositories. Those hurt a little more than I'd like to admit right now. They let the doubt back in.
I'd like to say that this will make it feel better if the "not-so-good" happens on Thursday afternoon. But I'm not sure that's true. We'll have to see. Am I effectively guarding my heart? Or am I just ruining this entire experience for myself? For those not "lucky" enough to feel this IVF process first-hand, it's a world crusher in so many ways. The roller coaster of hope and doubt are one thing. But the entire process of "who the hell knows" and "wait and see" are so implosive, it's unreal. I wish none of this on you.
For those of you who have felt it, or who are feeling it, my admiration goes out to you. I've seen so many women on these blogs demonstrate an entirely foreign amount of strength, perseverance, and dedication. I pray to be like all of you. You are truly heroes; to me, to your families, and to your children (born or unborn). Thank you for sharing your experiences with me.
Tonight I will try to avoid the quiet moments. I'll watch tv (food network) and eat unexplainable amounts of sugar. Then I'll go to sleep and wake up to one more day of waiting.
7dp5dt. How are you doing in there guys? Are you still there? Are you alive? I can't feel you, in my body or my heart. But maybe that's just my walls. Don't be disappointed, I just want you so badly that it hurts. And hurting like this isn't my forte. I'm still here. Still wondering and waiting for you.
...
Please stay with me. Please don't go.
...
Sunday, August 1, 2010
5dp5dt
This 2ww is slower than anything. ever. I can't tell you how many times I've looked up early pregnancy symptoms online. I'm a nut job. Honestly, there's something about this process that really makes a person lose a little bit of their mind. I used to consider myself reasonably sane. Possibly even a bit intelligent from time to time. All of that was thrust out the door with my "fertility" and my dignity. Bottoms off and on the table is right. Too many people know too much about my lady business... but this is IVF. Every agonizing minute of it. From the larger than life ovaries to the "chalk full of progesterone".
I need to get my mind off of this. I need to somehow think of something other than "what if". Or "could it be". Or "what the f*$# is that?".
B and I just spent the last hour or so cleaning up the house for the family to come over. Thank God the family is coming over. If I have to sit here and wonder for one more minute I'll lose it.
I have a confession to make. It's a sad little confession. I woke up this morning at 6:10am and POAS. Yes, 10dpo, and I did it. And it was sad. It was negative. The most negative of all negatives. The brightest white blank spot on a pregnancy test you've ever seen. It was taunting me- laughing at me. "You idiot girl. You thought you were that lucky? That you could poas at 10dpo and see a line? Who do you think you are? You're no better than anybody else. You have to wait your turn. So get back in line and shutup...maybe one day...maybe."
This was all going down in my bathroom at 6:13am.
So I promptly jumped back in bed, just to jump back out of bed about 2 minutes later to jump on the faithful internets. Give it to me, internet! Tell me what I want to hear! So I googled it. How many days past ovulation until you saw the bfp? Any success stories of BFN to BFP? What's the earliest and latest you've seen bfp? Tell me. NOW!
Of course I saw just what I wanted to see. 10 days is far too early for most people. 11 days might even be too early. Hell, I could get BFN for two weeks before I see the BFP. I could be down and out, thinking it's all over and then the BFP fairy will pop out and chuckle: "Oh, c'mon. I was just having a little fun. Here. Here you go. Buck up!"
There were, of course, plenty of "I got my BFP at 9dpo" or "I was 7 dpo and the line was darker than the AF you're about to have..."
But I don't want to see those. no. I'll stick with the good ol' "It's too early for a BFP. It could still come. Don't lose hope". That's a much easier pill to swallow. ::gulp::
I'm gonna go bake some cookies and vow up, down, and sideways that I won't pee on any sticks until at least 12dpo. Maybe ever. Maybe I'll never pee on anything ever again.
I need to get my mind off of this. I need to somehow think of something other than "what if". Or "could it be". Or "what the f*$# is that?".
B and I just spent the last hour or so cleaning up the house for the family to come over. Thank God the family is coming over. If I have to sit here and wonder for one more minute I'll lose it.
I have a confession to make. It's a sad little confession. I woke up this morning at 6:10am and POAS. Yes, 10dpo, and I did it. And it was sad. It was negative. The most negative of all negatives. The brightest white blank spot on a pregnancy test you've ever seen. It was taunting me- laughing at me. "You idiot girl. You thought you were that lucky? That you could poas at 10dpo and see a line? Who do you think you are? You're no better than anybody else. You have to wait your turn. So get back in line and shutup...maybe one day...maybe."
This was all going down in my bathroom at 6:13am.
So I promptly jumped back in bed, just to jump back out of bed about 2 minutes later to jump on the faithful internets. Give it to me, internet! Tell me what I want to hear! So I googled it. How many days past ovulation until you saw the bfp? Any success stories of BFN to BFP? What's the earliest and latest you've seen bfp? Tell me. NOW!
Of course I saw just what I wanted to see. 10 days is far too early for most people. 11 days might even be too early. Hell, I could get BFN for two weeks before I see the BFP. I could be down and out, thinking it's all over and then the BFP fairy will pop out and chuckle: "Oh, c'mon. I was just having a little fun. Here. Here you go. Buck up!"
There were, of course, plenty of "I got my BFP at 9dpo" or "I was 7 dpo and the line was darker than the AF you're about to have..."
But I don't want to see those. no. I'll stick with the good ol' "It's too early for a BFP. It could still come. Don't lose hope". That's a much easier pill to swallow. ::gulp::
I'm gonna go bake some cookies and vow up, down, and sideways that I won't pee on any sticks until at least 12dpo. Maybe ever. Maybe I'll never pee on anything ever again.
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