Square one

I won't keep you in suspense. I got my period yesterday. Yes, it sucked. I guess it was a good thing that is happened at school, while I was busy and forced to be social. There was no emotional breakdown this time, which I have to admit was surprising.

Anyway, back to square one. I head to the doctor's office on Friday for a blood draw and an ultrasound. As long as I don't have a cyst, I start all over again. I guess that 20% success rate was just not in my favor this time around.

Onward and upward.

Glutton for punishment

I just fell into a classic TTC trap and I just thought I would share the insanity with you all. So, as you know, the TTW is total torture. The patience involved is totally beyond me and it pushes me to my limit. A friend suggested that the second week is worse than the first, and I must agree. It is during the second week that my resolve always falters, and I end up wasting expensive pregnancy tests, because I am so desperate to catch sight of the elusive double line ASAP.

The strategy behind choosing your testing day is pretty simple: choose a day that is far enough out from your ovulation date to have some possibility of showing a positive result, but early enough that you aren't going insane waiting for it to be TESTING DAY. Some bionic women with super embryos have shown a +HPT as early as 7DPO (days past ovulation) or 8 DPO with first morning urine. When I was pregnant last summer, I showed a +HPT at 10DPO (faint, but visible). Many women don't get a positive result until 13-14DPO. It is very individual.

But, even with this in mind, I have been known to test on 6DPO. 6... I haven't done that for a long time, but still. Somewhere in my brain, it made sense to do that.

This cycle, because I did a trigger shot, I had to wait for that medication to clear out of my system, because it will give a false positive test. It is concentrated hCG (pregnancy hormone) and that is the hormone that home tests pick up. So, using super cheapie tests, I used those for several days watching the line get fainter and fainter. 2 days ago the test was finally stark white, so I know now that if I do get a BFP, it is for real. So, I chose 10DPO (this coming Thursday) to be my first testing day. This sounds reasonable to me because that is when I got a +HPT last July. Good. Done. Decision made.

Then WHY did I decide, in my infinite wisdom, to use an expensive First Response test this morning (8DPO) at 8am when I had already peed at like 5:30am?! Wrong day AND wrong time. Of course the result was negative. Now I am just left embarrassed and disappointed with myself.

There is a compulsion there that is difficult to understand. Imagine you have chocolate in your cupboard and you are trying to lose weight. You have told yourself, "I am saving that chocolate for Thursday. It will taste so much better if I work out for a few days to earn it. I won't touch it until then." But, you can HEAR the chocolate calling to you. You can't think of much else. You are powerless against it, and you sneak it before you can even really taste it.

I need someone to come to my house and remove all HPTs. I am a danger to myself and others. Please, call Candy Finnigan.

Taking bets

Because I still have several days to kill until I will know if this IUI was successful (sometime between Friday and Tuesday), I have been sitting around wondering how many people will announce pregnancies when I return to school tomorrow afternoon. In recent years, there has been an influx of women under 40, and with that...well you know.

One colleague's news has already leaked thorough the grapevine. I always appreciate a little advanced warning of this kind of news, so I can react privately. A year ago, that meant crying, cursing, and feeling sorry for myself. Now, it is basically limited to extreme jealousy. The kind where I bemoan how it is MY TURN and selfishly wish for myself what others seem to get with a night of drunken lust.

So, I am a betting woman. I have spent my fair share of time at blackjack tables in Las Vegas and Atlantic City. In my own humble opinion, I am going to bet on at LEAST one other preggo, probably two. This is a hedged bet because I am privy to information about the infertility and loss struggles of both people I have in mind. I'm laying my $5 on the line.

In the meantime, I am just watching the days tick by. Maybe you can help me with this: I have been debating about how I will feel about posting the results of the IUI here. If it is a BFN, it is going to sting and I might avoid talking about it until it sinks in a bit. If it is a BFP, my superstitious nature might take over. I mean, writing it down might make me miscarry, right? I might also avoid walking under ladders and black cats for a while.

Like all things TTC related, I think this is going to be a wait and see.

Hurry up and wait

Although I savor summer vacation, I am thinking it is a good thing that I head back to work next week. There are several reasons for this (namely, my recent extreme laziness), but mostly it is because the dreaded two week wait (TWW) is upon me. It is that magical period of time between ovulation and the beginning of your next cycle when all you can do is constantly scrutinize every twinge inside of your pelvic region, in hopes that it is an egg fertilizing. This is a period of time that moves by so agonizingly slowly, that if you are TTC, you feel like you will lose your mind.

Because I ovulate so infrequently, I often forget the neurotic tendencies that kick in during the TWW. I go back and forth between hopeful and cynical. I have heated inner dialogues that sometimes make me laugh hysterically, which then, in turn, also make me look like a lunatic to the people in cars next to me. Picture a sort of angel/devil scenario. They typically go something like this:

"This might by the cycle you get pregnant!" vs. "Don't get too excited. The IUI only gives you a 20% chance of success."

"But, that means there is a chance! You haven't had many chances at all in the last year!" vs. "But even if I got pregnant, I would probably lose it. That's what happened last time."

"So many infertile friends have gotten pregnant lately. That means it might be your turn!" vs. "You want it too much. That means something bad is going to happen."

Get the idea? These are the fun times happening in my head all the time. Sometimes they are also followed by an evil laugh.

The hubby constantly shakes his head at me when I go to the dark side of any situation. The endless optimism that he is able to produce is the glue of our relationship, I am convinced. I mean, what the hell would we do if BOTH of us were Debbie Downers all the time? Instead, he chooses to kiss my head, put a hand on my belly, and think good thoughts. The song "Imagination" from Willy Wonka has a great quote about optimism. Willy says, "Hold your breath. Make a wish. Count to three." I keep thinking of those words over and over again. It's like throwing a coin into a fountain. It is just pure, blind hope. I wish I could bottle it and hold it in my pocket.

So, my challenge for the next two weeks is to keep busy, keep some hope, and not pee on hundreds of HPTs in the hopes of that elusive double pink line.

"Trust Me"

Those words are so tricky. Sometimes it seems like every time I put control in someone else’s hands, something goes wrong. I don’t mean this is a crazy control freak kind of way. Just more of a “I live in Murphy’s Law” kind of way. Well, maybe it is more anger at myself when I don’t listen to my instincts (or inner voice, a la Oprah) often enough.

This came up recently with my fertility treatment. I don’t want to give all the gory details, but something treatment related sent up red flags in my brain. I said so to one of the nurses. She assured me the information was correct. Well, needless to say, I was right in my original assumption and it impacted my results.

The good news is that it looks like we can proceed. I did finally show response to the injections. So, on Sunday, I have a date with a turkey baster. I suppose it will be a little more clinical than that, but you get the idea. Can I be honest? Between you and I, it’s a little scary. With PCOS and the medication, there are some risks.

But, life is risk, right?

"Your ovaries have great potential"

While in the stirrups yesterday, dildocam in use, this is what the technician said to me. She was peering at the screen looking at "tons" of follicles. Yup, lots of eggs. They are just developmentally challenged. After about 7 days on the shots, there weren't any measurable follicles (we need them to grow to about 15-20mm).  So, they more than doubled my dose of Gonal-F (went from 75iu per day to 112.5iu two times per day). That's right: double the shots, double the fun!

I almost giggled when she said it though. It reminded me of when I was a little kid in elementary school. I used to get comments on my report cards that said, "Not working to potential" or "Needs to give more effort." By the time I hit high school, I swung to the other side of the pendulum, and started to drive myself crazy trying to get all my assignments as perfect as possible. That's kind of the way I approach TTC too. Always preoccupied with what I could do better.

It's nice to know that my egg bags are promising, if they give more effort. 

Needles

I am no fan of needles. Never have been. This began when I was 8 and had my tonsils out. I was scared to begin with, and the sadomasochistic nurse put the IV in my hand without numbing it first.

In adulthood, although I always get blood work when I need it, I always have intense fear. I have to look away, breathe deeply, and avoid the humiliation of passing out. Sweating and crying are common.  To make matters worse I have had several inept nurses try to draw blood and leave me with bruises. They tend to blame me for this problem. Occasionally, I have a gifted phlebotomist or other medical professional who has no trouble at all.

Then, when I went for my first D&C after the miscarriage, I had a horrific IV experience. The nurse who was assigned to me tried to get the IV placed TWICE without success. Each attempt included an injection of numbing agent first. That means 4 needles later, and the IV was not placed. Finally, another nurse is able to place the IV. That means it took a total of 6 pokes. 6. 

So, needless to say, I have needle fear. This wasn't helped by the fact that my last blood draw at the RE's office did not go smoothly.

But, after months of setbacks, we finally got the go ahead to start injectable medications, leading to an IUI. This is good news. There is a much higher chance of the treatment being successful than anything we have tried yet. But, then there is the needle.

The first night, after watching the YouTube videos reminding us about how to give the shots, I sat with the syringe in my hand shaking. I tried over and over again to give myself the shot. The inner dialogue went something like this:
"Real women don't need a man to give them the shots."
"I should be able to do this! This will help get us a baby!"
"That needle is huge." (It isn't.)
"How the hell do diabetics do this?"
"Would my stomach or my leg hurt less?"
Etc. Etc. Etc.

Deciding I couldn't do it myself, I handed the needle over to Kev. We started a count to 3 several times. I couldn't seem to get to 3. After 2 venue changes, and much whining, he said, "This is going to happen one way or another tonight." So, after 30 minutes, while hiding my face, we counted "1.....2......3!"

Then....nothing. It didn't hurt. I barely felt it. But what I did feel is like I am an idiot.

But, somehow, the anxiety ramped up even more the next day. In my head, I knew it wouldn't hurt. But, that irrational fear just took over my brain. I started to really wonder if I could ever do IVF if I need to. From many infertile friends, I know THOSE shots are horrific. However, that night, although I shake and fuss, I allow Kev to get the shot done in half the time. Progress.

The third night, I make a major breakthrough. After prepping the shot, I looked at hubs and said, "I'm counting to 3. Just do it."

2 minutes. Done.The ensuing nights are similar.

I might still be lame for not doing it myself, but I'll take bravery in little bits and pieces.