Happy Birthday, My Little Blog

Waiting for Little Feet is officially one year old today.

I don't know if I can accurately articulate the feelings I have about the last year of my life, and how important the blog has become. When I went back to re-read the first post I was trembling, remembering how I felt at that point. By the time I started blogging, we'd been TTC for a year and a half. We had already lost a baby, and I hadn't ovulated in months. My bathroom was filled with ovulation tests. I was ready to throw the stupid basal thermometer out the window, as I figured out how useless it was with PCOS. There were tears, tears, and more tears. I felt lost, worried, and mostly scared. I didn't know if I would ever be pregnant again.

Little did I know about what the next 12 months would hold for us. There was the good, (the very good), the bad, and the ugly.

What I really couldn't conceive of  (no pun intended) in August of 2011 was how much joy was ahead of us, to balance the pain. There were so many days when I was ready to give up and move on to living a life without the torment of infertility treatment. In many ways, I was more prepared for that outcome than our current successful pregnancy. All of that makes me so intensely grateful for this baby and every day I can still call myself pregnant.

Reading blogs provided constant comfort for me then, and still does. I finally got the nerve (with a lot of encouragement from the best husband on earth) to start my own blog, as an outlet and a way to reach out for support. That's exactly what blogging gives to me - way to process all I think about and feel without losing my mind. Every time I post, the wave of relief I feel after pouring my heart out, and the subsequent smiles I get from comments, makes it all better. 

I'm indebted to those of you who continue to stick with me and read my little blog, in the sea of other blogs that are out there. I have been lucky enough to meet some of you, email with many of you, and have received an overwhelming amount of support from you.

Thanks so much for making my blogging life so rich.

Happy Birthday, my little blog.

Anatomy Scan

Gender reveal drum roll please....

The Nugget's 18 week profile shot!

The 12 week gender prediction at the NT Scan (and my acupuncturist's reading of my pulse) was right!

It's a boy!

The anatomy scan went perfectly today. The Nugget is looking 100% healthy and was wiggling for us the whole time. He (oh my God, I said HE!) even cooperated so we could look at his junk. Thanks Son!

The only thing we are keeping an eye on is my placenta. Apparently it's a tad low. Not previa, but low. Upside? I get another ultrasound at 28 weeks to make sure it moves up, which they think it will. Score for another peek at MY SON! (Ok, I'll stop now).

Today's appointment with the OB went better than the last too. Yes, she took me an hour late (she had to deliver a baby that morning) but she was more direct and I left feeling good. Having KG there was a good idea too - keeping me calm as the wait started to make me more and more annoyed.

In other news, life is busy. I'm tutoring 3 days a week, working on 2 curriculum projects, and preparing for my sister to arrive for a visit this weekend. We also managed to finish the registry and have started to think about starting to clear out our junk from the room that will become the nursery.

All in all, chugging along.

I can't believe I'll be back in my classroom in 3 weeks. Where did the summer go?

Fear of Falling

I spent the last few days with a close friend and her parents at their home, on Cape Cod. We got a mani pedi. We went to a beautiful private beach. I read an entire book. There was even some shopping. Serious girl time and serious relaxation. It was heavenly.

Sandwich, MA and pretty toes

I also took the opportunity of getting away this weekend to take a short vacation from worry about the baby. I took a big step and left my doppler at home. KG panicked when I told him my plan. He warned that there was no way he was going to follow me to the Cape with it if I regretted my decision. But it really felt right. This was a chance to put a little distance between me and my obsession with checking for a heartbeat for a couple of days, and I'm glad I did. Instead I focused on relaxing and being happy. I did a good job.

I have always had a fear of heights. Even climbing ladders or standing on high terraces is a problem. I get that sinking pit feeling in my stomach and unavoidably picture myself falling. The feeling of insecurity and imbalance takes hold and I lose my shit. Without someone or something to hold me steady at that height, I just feel lost. My feelings about this pregnancy have felt very similar until recently. I have been so afraid of loving with this baby because what if it was all taken from me in a heartbeat. What if I fell, and then got hurt? The doppler was holding me to the ground, making me feel safe and in control.

Taking a break from the doppler gave me a chance to explore how I feel without my safety net. I was pleasantly surprised at how relaxed and happy I felt. Feel. Honestly, I haven't felt this good since our pre-TTC days. Something could go wrong at any time. But, maybe it won't. Maybe it won't.

Waiting Room

Apparently, I'm going to be spending a lot of time in my OB's waiting room.

First, the good news: Overall, I liked the doctor. She was warm and friendly. We got to hear the heartbeat on a doppler at 10 weeks 3 days. 155 bpm. She warned us it might take a while to find it, but then it was there right away. Music to our ears. Now of course I want to get a doppler for home use. I'm still debating about that. KG is convinced I'll use it every day if we get one. But, I think I could agree to only do it with him once or twice per week. Thoughts on home doppler use anyone?

We also scheduled the early and second semester integrated screening (NT Scan and the 18w scan). I see the doctor again in a month.We went over a lot of my records, talked about some vaccines His Royal Fabulousness and I need, got a breast exam and a vaginal culture, checked my cervix and uterus, tested protein and sugar in my urine, and discussed some additional genetic testing for Ashkenazi Jewish background that I haven't had. I only had the basic 4 tests for that, and now there are like 20. I need to call my medical insurance to see if those tests are covered. We also talked about my risk for PPD (higher because of my history of depression and anxiety). She supported the rec to stay on my medications for that and said overall everything looked perfect.

The bad news: It was quite the ordeal in the OB's office yesterday. We had a 3:00 appointment and she didn't walk in the room until 3:45. She also quickly saw another patient (one who had come late because she got her appt. time wrong) in the middle of our appointment. She seemed a bit scattered, but I think that might have been because she was running so, so late. I didn't end up getting out of there until 5. I was a little pissed off and even more so when she failed to call me last night with instructions about stopping my progesterone and Metformin. She said she wanted a bit of time to review my chart more before giving me instructions and that she would call after office hours. No call. Sigh. I guess I'll call Monday morning. Do you think this is a bad sign about her reliability, or just a bad day? She comes SO HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

So, I guess this baby is deciding to stick. KG said I looked genuinely shocked when we heard the heartbeat. That's both amusing and sad to me. I'm still working on my promise to think positively, but I'm making headway. My mom and I have been discussing timing for a baby shower in Los Angeles, which makes me happy. I've started to allow myself to look ahead, make plans, and get a little excited. Bit by bit.

This week was a good one: I turned 32, went to a Red Sox game on free tickets, said goodbye to my students for the summer, and heard the sweet sound of my baby's ticker. All in all, not bad.

Enjoy listening to Fugazi's "Waiting Room." Bonus points to anyone who can sing along.

The Demise of Rock and Roll and Thoughts on Belly Shots

I'm in the mood for bullets.

• Those of you who have been reading the blog for a while know about my love of music. It's a part of my identity that I cling to. But, I am grieving for a death in the music community this week, hardcore.

My favorite Boston radio station is going under this week, after being sold to Clear Channel. I have been depressed about it all week, probably disproportionately so. WFNX (started in 1983) was one of the last independent, alternative rock stations. It comes on the heels of another major rock station's demise (WBCN) in 2009.

Both of these stations were a major part of Boston's local rock scene. WFNX had entire blocks dedicated to showcasing local bands and sponsored live shows nearly every week. It was where I heard bands like The Raconteurs, The Black Keys, and Alabama Shakes for the first time. They had bands like The Pixies, The Smiths, and The Cure in heavy rotation with newer bands like Bombay Bicycle Club. It kept me in the loop. It kept me current. It kept me from feeling like a total dinosaur. Howard Stern warned me about the evils of Clear Channel years ago when he made the switch to satellite radio. I should have listened to him. Now, where will I hear about tiny bands, about to make it big?

• I saw The Avengers last week. It is AMAZING. Go see it.


• My thoughts on belly shots:

I hate my stomach. I have struggled with body image issues my entire life. I have posted before (I think) about how much I struggled with my weight for most of my life. Then in 2008 I went through a significant weight loss (although it wasn't enough to reach my goal weight), which improved my comfort in my own skin. I was at the gym consistently taking spin classes and I got a trainer for a while. I weighed my food and made pretty good choices. Then, since starting injectables (IUIs, then IVFs) my exercise routine went by the wayside. I just couldn't handle the emotional and physical fatigue. But, I've been okay with the softening of my thighs, butt, and belly. I haven't really gained any actual poundage, I am just...mushier. I am also 100% okay with gaining baby weight. I'll deal with the aftermath post-partum. BUT....then there is the idea of belly shots. My intention is to avoid belly shots until later on, perhaps 12, 14, or 16 weeks. I wouldn't show until then anyway right? No need to make people gross out at the site of my stomach.

But then, I was in a dressing room yesterday in yoga pants, and I noticed it. The beginnings of a bump. I'm 10 weeks tomorrow, so it makes sense. Honestly, I got a little excited at the sight. Then I realized, I was sucking in. I suck in every second I am standing. I always have. When I let go of the breath that was holding my tummy in, I realized the belly was WAY rounder and larger. The perfectionist in me wondered: when women take belly shots, are they sucking in? Or are they letting it all hang out? For those who are or have been pregnant, what do you do?

• Some folks have been asking about my symptoms. In general, I have gotten off very easy so far. I don't have many, and the ones I do have are very subtle. I've been very tired (naps and such) and had some passing queasiness. Also, I suddenly can't eat fish or beef, and want iced drinks instead of my normal room temperature preference. For the first few weeks, I couldn't regulate my temperature very well - I would swing from freezing to sweating a lot. I hadn't heard of that as a symptom before, but what can I say? I'm an original. But all of that seems to be settling down, which my RE says is normal between weeks 9-12.

• My intake appointment with the new OB's nurse is Wednesday. We meet with the actual OB on Friday afternoon. Not sure if that will be too early for a listen to the heartbeat with a doppler, but here's hoping.

• I also turn 32 on Wednesday. I almost forgot I have a birthday coming up, until KG asked what I wanted to do. I'm thinking this will be a quiet one, but the best birthday I've had since my 29th, before we started TTC.


In honor of the demise of WFNX, REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It"

 

Graduation Day

Well despite being buried in progress reports this weekend, I managed to maintain a decent level of panic about our ultrasound this morning. Old habits die hard.

The day didn't start out so well. I had to run and errand before the appointment, so KG and I left at slightly different times. I quickly realized I had cut it close on time with rush hour traffic, and pulled into the lot at the hospital with about 2 minutes to spare. KG didn't have as much luck with lights and shortcuts and was still stuck on the pike at that point. So, we decided I would go in without him, praying he would make it by the time they called me back. Cue additional panic. All I could picture was getting bad news, alone, on an examining table.

Luckily, it took a bit of time to get checked in, changed, and settled in the ultrasound room. Oh, and guess who had a student in the room with the ultrasound tech? I figured, so many medical professionals have seen my hoo-ha, what's one more?

I heard my phone ding with a text message as soon as I laid down. KG made it just as we were starting. This time, the ultrasound was in the main imaging center, instead of my RE's office. Biggest benefit? A screen facing the examining table, so we could watch the whole time. Score.

The tech took pity on me and showed us the heartbeat right away, so I would actually breathe. By the way, apparently it's my job to cry during ultrasounds these days. So yeah. She then did a bunch of measurements, took pix of all my female organs, and spent a generous amount of time showing us The Nugget's feet, hands, spine, and such. It just boggles my mind how teeny the baby is, and yet how much has developed in just a couple of weeks.

After, we went upstairs to meet with the RE one last time. There were many hugs and lots of congratulations. We went over all the testing, talked about my medications, and prepped for my OB visit next week. Then, we talked a bit about our frozen embryos and what to do when we were ready to use them. Before I knew it, we were wrapping up, saying goodbye, and leaving her office. On the way out, her nurse (whom I love) said, "Happy Graduation Day!"

After so many months of treatment and monitoring, it feels truly bizarre to be leaving her care. Honestly, sometimes I didn't believe that we would ever leave that office pregnant. But, it's time to fly the coop. I need to begin to see this pregnancy as a success, and not as a disaster waiting to happen. A big way to start is by seeing the regular OB, and not by being in the office that reminds me of infertility. I want to begin to assume the best, instead of bracing for the worst.

It's time to keep my promise to myself and create a shift in my thinking.

New pics are up on "The Nugget" page, for your viewing pleasure.

Thumping

That's what the baby's heart was going this morning, thumping away at 185bpm. Measuring right on track. The Nugget even wiggled and waved a little bit.

Will post more later, including details from my graduation ceremony from the RE and u/s pix.

Can this actually be happening?

One more sleep

...until the ultrasound tomorrow.

Please, keep sending the good vibes that all is well with The Nugget.

Keeping Promises

Mel called me out. She said, now that I promised to not waste my entire pregnancy being petrified, I have to follow through and keep my promise. I'm doing my best. I truly am.

At work, I had to teach a series of lessons to my students about child abuse prevention. The lessons cover the normal stuff: strangers, good touch/bad touch, assertiveness...you get the idea. We teach it every year. We asked them during the lessons, "What can you do to keep yourself safe?" They suggested ideas like not talking to strangers, saying "No!" if someone made them feel uncomfortable, and never telling someone you are home alone. Yes, you still have to explicitly teach this stuff.

But, when I think about that question and what my own answer would be, the response is quite different. I think I have a handle on physical safety. I lived in major urban areas my entire life: first Los Angeles, and now Boston. I know about eye contact, staying alert, and looking like you know exactly where you are going at all times. I'm not so worried about keeping my body safe. It's the brain that's really vulnerable.

Emotional safety and protection is a really tricky issue. There is no feeling quite like that of being vulnerable. You could be vulnerable to another person (in a relationship for instance) or you can be vulnerable to life circumstances (as in infertility and other life crises). Everyone tries to protect themselves from heartache at one point or another, and we all have different methods of doing this. What can I do to keep myself safe? For me, it feels safer to constantly imagine the worst case scenario - to visualize the most frightening thing I can imagine. Somehow, I have convinced myself that if I can imagine a truly awful outcome to a situation in which I feel completely exposed and vulnerable, it won't hurt as badly if it comes to fruition. I've prepared myself for it, see?

This pattern sounds really depressing and cynical. KG kids me about it all the time. But I don't know how to change it. This is a long-time habit, that has been perfected over the course of my life.

I think perhaps my goal shouldn't be to stop it, but to balance it with also focusing on the flip side. Along with picturing tears and heartache, I should picture a round belly and kicks in my ribs. If I can get to a 50/50 ratio, that's major progress.

Like I said before, it is ridiculous to waste this time, purely based on the possibility it might end tomorrow. The fact is that I have no idea what's going to happen. I have no control. I have to accept that. So, I might as well reap as much joy as I can.

Since seeing the heartbeat on Monday (was that really only a few days ago? Longest. Week. Ever.), I feel better. I won't say I don't have moments of heart stopping, stomach dropping fear that there won't be a heartbeat at the next ultrasound. I do have my fair share of those moments. But, I also have a lot of moments where this is starting to feel a little more real. Where I relax a little. Where I smile knowingly. Hell, I even took a major step and unpacked some pregnancy books I had hidden in the closet since my miscarriage. This was a big thing for me, and I'm praying I didn't jinx myself.

Another accomplishment: I made an appointment with a regular OB for the week after my last ultrasound at the RE's office. It took me a few days to psych myself up to do it, but it's done. Of course, I keep picturing myself having to cancel the appointment because I've miscarried, but you can't expect me to have a complete emotional overhaul in one week, right?

The only slightly longer version

To say we were nervous this morning doesn't even begin to describe how much adrenaline we had pumping. Thank goodness we had an 8:15 appointment this morning. Waiting until longer in the day would have been torture.

Once we were there, we didn't have to wait long before my name was called. I know the ultrasound tech well, and the minute she saw me she knew how petrified I was. We went into a teeny little room, without a fantastic spot for KG. So, he made do, at my feet, giving me reassuring rubs on my toes.

Thank goodness this tech is one who tells you every single thing she sees as she goes. She did all the normal checks, and then quickly zoomed in, and pointed out the heartbeat, letting us sit and stare at it for a bit.

That's when I lost it. I wept on the table, letting out a lot of the fear I had been holding in my chest for weeks. She then measured the fetus and told us it was measuring right on time. Again, more tears. She compared the size of the baby to a grain of rice. That blew KG's mind.

Before she finished, she zoomed in for the heartbeat one more time, printed us our copy of a picture*, and sent us on our way. Our next appointment is on May 30th, when we'll get released to an OB if all looks good.

At least for today, I feel relieved. It is starting to sink in that maybe, just maybe, I'll be a mom by New Years. 

But, I thought about the tech a lot as I drove to school. Because I have been in treatment at this clinic since January of 2011, I know a lot about her. I know she just had her third IVF result in a BFN after needing to coast for several days before retrieval. I know she has premature ovarian failure. I know about her cute little dog. I know how hard her nephew's birthday parties are. I can't imagine how hard it is for her to see someone else be so happy about a teeny little heartbeat.

I'm also thinking of Belle today. Although her doctor saw a heartbeat at her first ultrasound today, she is feeling nervous because Pip measured a little bit small. Please go send her some love and support.

*I started a separate page for pregnancy updates and pictures. Click on "The Nugget" if you like that kind of thing. If not, feel free to skip.

I can breathe a little

Just a dash through to say all went well this morning. The baby measuring right on track and the heartrate was 130bpm! More later...

Countdown

As Belle would say, I have 2 more sleeps before the ultrasound on Monday.

I'll be 7 weeks then. There won't be any ambiguity - either we will see a heartbeat or we will know it is over.

It isn't any secret I've been in a bad place while we wait for that day. In the past, I've written about my scars and the ridges are definitely showing. We haven't been pregnant since 2010 and we know how that ended. I can tell KG has come to the end of his rope with trying to soothe me or make me feel more positively about the outcome this time. He isn't angry with me, but he's frustrated that he can't fix me right now. He can't make me assume the best.

I keep playing 2 different scenarios in my mind. The one that ends in joyous tears, and the one that ends in the other kind. If it isn't good news, how am I supposed to live through that again? I think back to the pain of those days and it just seems unimaginable that I could be forced to go through it for a second time. But, it happens. Unfortunately, when you are a part of this community, you are constantly reminded that it happens over and over again.

One decision I did make is this: if we do see a heartbeat on Monday, I'm making some changes. Although there is nothing I can do to avoid being scared between every ultrasound and chance to check on the baby, I refuse to waste my entire pregnancy feeling as petrified as I do right now. Somehow, I will force myself to try and enjoy this time, because I worked so damn hard to get here.

I have read several blog posts about the huge wave of BFPs lately in the blogosphere. They have had an undercurrent of pain in almost every one. It's understandable. I lived through several of those waves in the last 2 years, and they hurt me every time. Simultaneously, I was happy for and upset by those pregnancies.

In my logical mind, I knew those women had often been through hell and back with infertility and deserved those healthy pregnancies. But, I could never shake the feeling that it wasn't fair because it wasn't me. Now that I am one of those with a pregnancy announcement, it feels strange. Maybe I am so used to being on the other side, that I can't quite compute what it will mean if I do end up one of those lucky ones.

For tonight and tomorrow night, we sit in the nebulous place of not knowing. Maybe that isn't such a bad place to be. At least for this weekend, we can still believe in the 50/50 shot at a happy ending.

"So Hard" by the Dixie Chicks

Top 10 Things I Wish I Could Make Myself Do

10. Go to the gym
9. Finish the novel I have been reading for 2 months
8. Stop Googling "pregnant no symptoms"
7. Not allow the stress of teaching to permeate every minute of my day
6. Resist the urge to call and move Monday's ultrasound to Friday
5. Cease begging SKB and other friends to talk me down off the ledge every day, when I am convinced this pregnancy will end in miscarriage
4. Eat some other food group besides carbs
3. Thoroughly clean my apartment
2. Absorb some of KG's ability to relax and go to a happy place
1. Start believing that this pregnancy will be a happy, healthy one, ending full term with a take-home baby

Big sigh.

Don't Ignore The Woman Underneath the Label/NIAW

RESOLVE and RESOLVE New England are sponsoring National Infertility Awareness Week between April 22-28th. This week has been on my mind for some time. Infertility has become such an ingrained part of who I am, and there is such misunderstanding, ignorance, and silence around the topic. I really feel like the only way to give infertility the understanding and attention it deserves is for the women affected by it to own it - to publicly say, "This is a disease that affects millions of women - probably your friends, family members, and co-workers included. It affects women like me."

RESOLVE challenged bloggers to write on the topic, "Don't ignore..." as it relates to their infertility journey, for NIAW. For me, this was the first thing that came to mind.

Don't ignore the woman underneath the label of "infertile."

Although I was diagnosed infertile in January of 2011, after a year of trying and a miscarriage, it took me a long time before that word really sank in. As it became more real for me, I became overwhelmed by the word itself. For a while, I obsessively researched my own issue (PCOS) and tried every possible "cure" to escape the weight of the label. It began to define me. It occupied my every thought, feeling, and activity. It took a while before I was able to get through an hour, evening, or day without being consumed by everything related to infertility. How could there be room for anything but charts, thermometers, and ovulation tests? Where was there room for me - my real self that existed before trying to have a baby?

If I could go back in time and tell myself (or any other women going through this experience) one thing, it would be this: don't lose sight of the person you are beyond the label. Underneath the diagnosis, you are a warm, breathing, person with so much at stake. Don't ignore the part of yourself that needs nurturing while in a crisis. Don't isolate, torture, or neglect yourself. Fight against the crushing anxiety, sadness, and feelings of failure that are so common among us. Fight against all of those who believe infertility treatment to be an easy choice. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You must conserve your strength for the obstacles to come.

Instead, seek support. Talk to people. Pursue your hobbies. Spend quality time with your spouse. Seek out a promotion at work. Spark your interest in something new. Read good books. See funny movies.  Do whatever keeps you present in your own life.

It is the hardest thing in the world to do these things, but consider this: 

If you don't care for the woman peeking out from under the label, what will be left when your TTC journey is over?

For more information:
http://www.resolve.org/infertility101
http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html 

Scar Tissue

I have a lot of tattoos. I started young and have accumulated 9 of them, although I wish it was more. Each one of them, for better or for worse, reminds me of a different time in my life. Some of them are beautiful. Some of them I can't believe I actually chose to put on my body. Some I have covered with new ink, and some I want to elaborate on. People who don't love tattoos don't understand why I would subject myself to intense physical pain to put a permanent mark on my body. They don't see the payoff. They have a point - technically, tattoos are scars. Occasionally, when I am in the shower or scratching an itch, I run my fingers over my tattoos, and can often feel tiny ridges of scar tissue. But mostly, when I look at my tattoos, I see the pretty and not the ugly ridges underneath.

KG has had a couple of minor surgeries to remove basal cell and suspected basal cell spots. Some scars are bigger than others, but the one on his face is barely perceptible. This tiny line that marks the spot of something that was harmful that is now gone. But, the one on his belly is considerable. It wasn't as carefully done, so it kept a purple color and rough edges. The scars are different shapes and sizes, all garnered with considerable pain. But, when I look at KG's scars, I am more grateful that they removed the cancerous cells than I am upset about them leaving such a mark.

Unfortunately, KG and I have accumulated a lot of new scars over the last couple of years. These are the kind that don't show on the surface. These scars become visible at specific times. Years of frustration, pain, sadness, and disillusionment caused the ridges to build. They have built up so much that we can't see past them. Over the last week, KG remarked to me that we are more prepared for bad news than good news. Every time the phone rang with excellent news of the retrieval, embryo reports, and the transfer date, our hearts were in our throats. We were certain the news would be bad. We knew we were going to be disappointed again. Scars.

In a few hours, we have our embryo transfer. Once again, I am up before 7am, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scars.

Do scars ever really disappear? Or do they just become less and less noticeable with time?

We are hoping one of these days we can focus on the pretty and stop running our fingers on the ridges.

Anyone interested in an IVF update?

If you aren't into numbers and nitty-gritty, feel free to skip this post. Sometimes I like analyzing numbers, so you'll have to indulge me.

So last cycle, My med protocol looked like this:
BCP for weeks and weeks
Lupron (10iu to start, then 5iu when stims started)
75iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the first 3 days of stimming
150iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the next 7 days
Pregnyl trigger
23 eggs retrieved, 19 mature

That cycle, my estrogen looked like this:
15 (4th day of stims), 187, 404, 1,085, 1,940 (triggered that night) - 11 days of stims

This cycle, the protocol was nearly identical, except for one thing: she started me at 150/150 of Menopur and Gonal-F right off the bat. As a result, my estrogen rose a bit more quickly.

Here have been my estrogen numbers since Monday:
Mon (4th day of stims): 40, 254, 684, today: 1608
Follicle count: 14 on the right, 4 on the left
Largest follicle today: 16mm

The nurse told me to stop Gonal F tonight (but still do 150u of Menopur - fun!). She thinks tonight will be the last night of stims, trigger tomorrow, and retrieval on Tuesday.

We are nearing the finish line.

So, I'm considering taking off both the day of retrieval and the day after. I have 2 reasons:
1. I was in a lot of pain last time. Seriously, I was not prepared to be in that much pain.
2. If our results are similar to last time, I really, really don't want to have to take that call with children all around me. That was so, so awful in January.

Last thought: Please God, let the ICSI work.

I'm curious for the experts to answer this question: With numbers rising this quickly, how worried should I be about OHSS? I mean, they are reducing my stims tonight, but I went from 684 to 1608 in 24 hours.... 
 



Fitting, for the end of a cycle.

3 words

Proud.  Excited. Accomplished. Those are the three words that describe me most today. They don't describe me every day. Some days, the words might be drastically different. But today, those fit.

Why do you ask?

Proud: It's just a little thing, but RESOLVE New England featured my Poker Face post on their newly revamped website. A big high five to their new, awesome Director of Communications and Social Media - Keiko Zoll for giving me the opportunity to reach a wider audience. Nothing makes me happier than writing (and blogging specifically) and seeing myself "published" gives my noggin a nice swell.

I am a member of RESOLVE and am working up the courage to start attending their peer groups. Do any of you go? Do your spouses go? I have a good support system and a private therapist. But, still. It might be good to talk IRL with other IFers. Give me the lowdown, ladies.

Excited: Today was my first session of electroacupuncture in a while. It feels like a solid step toward helping my ovaries to heal and shrink any nasty cysts left over from the IVF of doom. I also got all of my insurance clearance for IVF#2 and ICSI in the mail. That means I should get the call from my RE's office soon, with my Lupron start date. I am SO ready to start over. Let's get this show on the road!

Accomplished: I've had some really good teaching moments the last couple of weeks. As a teacher, I don't always have those days. Sometimes Many times, it is a struggle to get through to kids in a way that really sticks. Other times, you nail it. Lately, whether it is that point in the year when ten year olds start to turn into real students, or that I just happened to design a few good lessons, I see the tide turning with a few of them. That's what makes the stress, frustration, low pay, and long hours of teaching worth it.

So, what 3 words describe you today?

Bouncing back

My blog hit 10,000 hits and it just made my morning. Thanks guys. I am feeling all "Aww, shucks" about it. I love blogging and all of your support keeps me motivated.
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I have been thinking a lot about change lately. Yesterday, on the playground, another teacher and I were chatting about the idea of resiliency in children. As teachers, we see it as one of the most valuable skills a child can have: the ability to recover from some kind of setback (emotional, physical, whatever). It is also a trait that is very difficult to teach. When we see it naturally occur in children, we know that kid will have an advantage over others who get stuck in their frustration or pain.

When I think about it, I actually did not have resiliency as a child. Or, let's face it, until my 30s. I was the kid who would curl up and cry in my bedroom when some social disaster happened. I would refuse to go to school and would rerun the scenario over and over again in my mind, obsessing on it for far too long.

Now, I will not claim that I am cured of this issue. I still tend to overthink, overanalyze, and generally make myself crazy. I'm sure KG would agree. But, as an adult, I have had no choice but to develop resiliency that I lacked as a kid. Besides infertility, there are painful life experiences that forced me to find ways to leave my bed, put my feet on the floor, and keep moving through my life. Illness, relationships, the death of friends and family, financial stress and all the other fun shit that happens, often without warning. What else can you do? You keep moving.

The last few days, I began feel like myself again. Smiles aren't as forced. Tears have abated. KG and I can kid around or watch "Two Broke Girls" and actually laugh. I haven't forgotten what happened. I think I have just processed it and decided to not let my failed IVF cycle rule every second of my day.  Seeing my therapist helped. Working some stuff out with my mom helped. Lots of hugs and support from my friends and KG helped. All in all, I'm feeling pretty proud of myself.

1 week of mourning? Not so bad.

And now, a song about hard times and resiliency.

The best verse from Change by Blind Melon:

When you feel your life ain't worth living
you've got to stand up and
take a look around you then a look way up to the sky.
And when your deepest thoughts are broken,
keep on dreaming boy, cause when you stop dreamin' it's time to die.




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A few random thoughts for this morning
• AF arrived yesterday. Back on the pill tomorrow. Step one of IVF #2 complete.
• I have been drinking this Green Monster smoothie (as blogged by Cornfed Feminist and Sunny at Cease and Decyst) and it is life changing! I have been eating like crap lately and this gives me a fast yummy way to get in a bunch of greens first thing in the morning. I swear to you, I can't taste the spinach.
• I slept 11 hours last night. A.MAZ.ING.
• Anyone have cats? We have 2 (for the last 9 years) and they drive us insane because they always hiss and growl at each other. Anyone know any kitty psychiatry?

Happy New Year and all that jazz

I have read a lot of posts about the new year to come this week. Some were heartbreaking, some were reflective, and some were hopeful. This one is somewhere in between.

2011 was a mixed bag for us.

While I think of 2010 as worse year because of our miscarriage, 2011 had its own set of sorrows. We lost His Royal Fabulousness's mom too young in July. We had 2 failed IUIs. We hit our two-year TTC mark, without a take-home baby to show for it.

But, 2011 did have some highlights. DH started a new job after being laid off. I started this blog. Mel at Stirrup Queens hired me for my first BlogHer article. Best of all, we wrapped up the year with a plan for IVF and a trip to Aruba. All in all, I think we are ending on a high note.

But, when it comes to 2012, I have tempered expectations. I am not going to say, "This will be our year!" Of course I hope that is true, but I have learned during this process that there just aren't any guarantees. So, instead, I am going to hope for improvements. These may be small improvements, like getting another freelance writing gig, or they may be large, like finally having a healthy, full term pregnancy. But whatever they are, I hope that we experience some events that push us in a positive direction.

For now, I have a whole bottle of champagne, with my name on it.

Are you excited?

I have been getting asked this question a lot about our upcoming IVF cycle. As the Lupron start day nears, I am trying really hard to get some kind of positive, happy excited feeling going. But, if I am going to be honest with myself and with you, I have to say I am not. All I am is petrified.

I am feeling brief today, so I'll summarize in a Top Ten list of the things making me so scared, and making it so impossible to say, "Yay! I get to start IVF!"
10. Needle phobia anyone?
9. Cyst heaven is surely in my future after all the stimulation
8. Oh, the mood swings to come. Hide now.
7. My ass is about to look like a boxer's face after a prizefight
6.What I am going to want to do most during this cycle is drink. What am I NOT allowed to do? Drink.
5. Sure, I'll make time, at the crack of dawn, for blood draws and ultrasounds nearly every other day!
4. OHSS sounds like a hoot.
3. If it does work, I have PIO injections until my 10th week to look forward to.
2. This may not work.
1. If it doesn't, what if I can't get up enough guts to do it all over again?

Am I glad I have the opportunity? Yes.
Does it give us much better odds? Enormously improved!
Do many, many women wish they lived in my state with mandatory infertility coverage? Yes.
Can I change my overwhelming feelings of fear? No.

No amount of telling me I need to be positive seems to help either. So, this is where I am taking my therapist's advice and asking for help from those around me:

I am asking all of you to hold positive thoughts for me, until I can do it myself. A Quaker friend calls this, "Holding you in the light." So, as a personal favor, please hold me in the light until I can find the strength inside myself.

As a rule, I don't make resolutions for the new year. I feel like if we have goals, we should work towards them regardless of when they fall on the calendar. But since my cycle is coinciding with the new year, this is definitely what I should be working towards.

Well, this and getting massages more often. :)