Friday, June 29, 2007

How are you?

This is a question asked all the time. Most people don't mean it. I'm lucky enough to have a few friends who truly want to know.

Lately, I don't even want to answer it. Not because I don't appreciate the concern, but the simple truth is that I don't know.

One moment I'm fine. Not "Fine and you?" but actually fine. Now, of course, fine is relative. I'm fine. I can think of never having a baby and not crumple into a pile on the floor. I can think about sleeping in and eating out and vacations in Europe instead of Disney World. Coping. Other times it's all I can do to form words. And the time between those two extremes isn't days or even minutes. Sometimes it's seconds.

Only a few minutes ago I was surfing the web, looking at pictures of pregnant women, smiling at their cute bellies. Then all of a sudden I was overwhelmed. I saw someone who is 33 weeks pregnant - what I should be right now if our baby had lived. Suddenly the tears poured out. I shut the browser immediately. Then I ate infertility cake. Now I'm back to not-quite-fine again.

I'm at 8dpo. For shits and grins, I peed on a stick tonight. Not to see if I'm pregnant, we all know it's too soon for that. I just wanted to see what stage I was at processing the ovidrel trigger I got. And you know, I haven't peed on anything in a week, I was starting to get the shakes. Completely negative. It's been 10 days since the shot, so that's reasonable. Chalk up another negative pregnancy test. I'm glad it was. Had their been a very faint line, I'd have wondered if it was leftover trigger shot or the start of something new.

Yes, in spite of my completely negative attitude & piss-poor mood this last week, hope still lingers. I guess I'm a die-hard.

I'm starting to think that us getting pregnant on our first IUI was just a fluke. I want to go back and tell all the people who, after the miscarriage, "consoled" me with "At least you know you can GET pregnant..." and punch them in the throat. Well, apparently I can't.

I'm not sure what to do. I'm already looking towards next cycle and I just don't know what to do. The original plan was 2 more rounds of Clomid (one being the one I'm still in) and then move on to injectibles. This is my 3rd (likely) unsuccessful round of Clomid/IUI since the we resumed officially TTC after the miscarriage. I know conventional wisdom is to try something for 3 months, then try something else. The first we only had 4 million sperm, so it almost doesn't count. So, not sure what to think. I'm sure my R.E. would encourage another round of Clomid. I respond well.

It's not that I think she's wrong or not aggressive enough. It's more of an emotional feeling than anything. I feel like we're at a stand still. And if I'm not moving forward, I feel like I'm falling down. I'm more than just a type A personality. I'm like a type AAA personality. I don't do a holding pattern well.

I don't know. I'm just feeling lost. I just want to have a fucking baby. Is that so much to ask?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Great Cake Day take 2

A big thank you to my fabulous husband for getting the fully fat-laden cream cheese in spite of the fact that he can't eat any.

Please note the slightly pomegranite colored icing.

I know, you're saying "um, Trish, that's sort of coral colored." To you, I say "Fuck you." I have been a slacker barren bitch and havent gone to get the proper thread so I didn't have it handy for a color comparison. And too much food coloring tastes funny. It's in the color family. Deal with it.

It's obviously not to scale. However, please note the accuracy in the double headed & double tailed sperm. Just like my husband makes.

Oh. And I also apologize for the darkness of the photos. My less-than-year-old camera suddenly will not take pictures with the flash on. If I try, it flashes at me to check the battery. (Which is fine & fully charged.) I'll send it in to be replaced one of these days.

Apologies over. Here's my take on an infertility cake.

*added shortly after submitting the previous entry*
You know. Going back and looking at the pomegranate thread, it looks far more burgundy than orangy which is how I remembered it in my brain. So then I went to look at an actual pomegranate (which I've never eaten) and realize that indeed, closer to burgundy. Color me stupid. But burgundy would have required mucho red food coloring, so even if I had realized that, I wouldn't have made it that dark. Cause red food coloring tastes like ass. So. Um. Just pretend. Thanks.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Great Cake Day

Well, in addition to feeling hopeless, I've decided to add a dose of anger today.
I'm feeling angry. Which is odd cause I've been not-quite-as-angry lately, but it's back tonight.
How dare I have to have infertility AND miscarriage? It's not right. I struggle, struggle, struggle to get pregnant and then my baby dies? WTF is that about? How awful of a person was I in a past life that I got saddled with this one this time?

I've mentioned my crappy upbringing. So I get a shitty childhood. And a naturally slow metabolism and a penchant for laziness so I'm a big fat fatty. I'm clumsy and unlucky. Okay. I can handle all of that. Infertility? Wow. That sucks. Oh... and my husband's swimmers suck, too. Wow. That's really shitty. And then.. AND THEN.. I lose my baby, too. This fucking sucks. And of course, now I can't seem to get pregnant again. Yay me.

Now, what would help my bitterness would be some chocolate cake with cream cheese icing. That's my favorite, BTW.

Because of that and because of the Great Cake Day I decided I would make one tonight.

And my life being what it is lately, it didn't work out.

See, my husband's cholesterol is something like 10 thousand. Okay, it was actually 280. But his triglycerides were so high that the nurse called to give us the results and sounded like she expected him to drop dead of a heart attack at any moment. Like maybe I should wake him up to make sure he still had a pulse. So he's on this low cholesterol thing. Which is hard for him. He's a southern boy with the worst sweet tooth I've ever seen. So, because I'm a wonderful, loving, supportive wife, so I have been dieting, too. Sort of.

I haven't been as strict. I require more than Cheerios for 2 meals a day. I like to throw some vegetables in there occasionally. But damn it. I wanted a cake. And it's infertility cake day. So, being the wonderful, loving, supportive wife that I am, I bought a chocolate cake mix and the makings for cream cheese icing. The way I eased my guilt about making something decadent was by buying fat free cream cheese. I use the term "cream cheese" loosely.

When I opened the cream cheese, the first thing I noticed was that it was blue. Wait... BLUE? Oh. It's a piece of blue plastic. Why is there blue plastic? I'll soon discover. The 2nd thing is that it's not really creamy. It looks like an odd mix of bacon grease and clear gelatin. The blue plastic appears to be in place to keep the not-quite-firm mixture from oozing out of the package. Hmm. I'm skeptical, but I'll give it a shot.

I dumped it into my mix with some butter, and started adding powdered sugar. What must've been 4 cups of powdered sugar later, it was liquid. LIQUID. How the hell does cream cheese & butter & sugar become liquid? I'm convinced the gelatin released and the bacon grease melted. Cause there was nothing creamy or cheesy about it.

I gave up and dumped it all down the drain. So I now have chocolate cakes with no icing. David says he'll get me some packs of fat-laden cream cheese tomorrow. Thank God I have a great husband. The one area I didn't get the shaft, eh?

Anyway, my entry into the Great Cake Day will be late. Lord knows I don't do anything on schedule. But since I'm never getting out of the infertility cycle, I've got plenty of time to eat infertility cake, right?

Oh. And P.S. SCORE!!

Online Dating

Mingle2 - Online Dating

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Left behind

I won't lie. It's been a couple of rough days for me. I felt so good on Wednesday after the IUI. Thursday, Friday & today, I don't even want to hear the word pregnant. Or baby for that matter.

David asked me on Thursday "So, are you pregnant yet?" and it was all I had not to completely lose my temper. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it.

I have no symptoms. Clearly, it's only 3dpo. But I couldn't possibly feel more not-pregnant. I've had a few twinges from my ovaries. Probably corpus luteums pumping out progesterone. But that's it.

Now, I felt completely unpregnant the last time I was pregnant. I did notice some very mild breast tenderness & some increased CM before my last postive test. And it's too early for those. So then I get a very small twinge of hope and then feel completely stupid. Why even think positive. It never is.

I have been trying to stay busy. Redecorated my bedroom this week. Shopped most of the week for comforters & curtains etc. Actually put it together today. Saw a Chippendale's show with some girlfriends tonight. Having a Father's Day do-over with my dad tomorrow. Trying not to think about it. Trying to distract myself. Life goes on.

But of course, there are babies and pregnant women and moms everywhere. And all I can feel is that I'll never be one. Tonight on the shuttle back to the car (show was at a Casino) I heard someone say to their friend "Weren't you pregnant then?" and it went through me like a knife. I just kept going as though I didn't hear it. As I said. Life goes on.

It truly feels unending. That's all I can say. Last night I lay in bed and thought about how we might never be parents. Maybe we should just give this up. Would being without children be the worst thing in the world? And for once, it seemed a reality. Like we might actually have to face it. Never having children. Never being parents. Never telling a story that starts "right before I had our son/daughter..." The battle to achieve it seems inachievable.

I know we've only been at this a year and a half or so. And so many others have gone on longer. But it just seems interminable. I have so many friends who started trying for babies after we did. Who got pregnant after we did. Some are watching their babies learn to walk now. And here I am.

Left behind.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

IUI #4 complete

What a long ass day this was.

Before I get into the day, I want to update on the OPK status. PURELY in the interest of science again (*ahem*) I peed on three sticks Tuesday morning. Remember that I gave myself the Ovidrel (hcg) shot on Monday night. An Answer Brand OPK, A Clear Blue Easy Easy Read, and an internet cheaper HPT. All were negative. Apparently it takes more than 12 hours to show up in my pee. I wish I'd have done another Tuesday night but didn't. I did use a CBE Easy Read tonight and it was almost positive. Pretty close to positive. As close to positive as I ever see. So it takes somewhere between 12 & 48 hours to show up in my pee. Not exactly news, I know. (As a side note, I left tonight's OPK on the bathroom sink to develop. David wandered in and held it up, looking at me quizzicly. I explained it was an OPK not a HPT. He said "I thought, Damn, you're pregnant already?" We could only be so lucky.)

Anyway, back to my day.
Started early. I work 2nd shift, so I don't actually have to be out of bed til about noon most days. We had to be at the clinic at 7:30, so I had to be up at 6:30. David opted to skip a shower and throw on a hat. I figured since my hoo-ha was going to be probed, it'd be nice if I washed up.
We fought through rush hour traffic and made it to the clinic about 7:32. Traffic was REALLY heavy, so I was relieved to get there. Went in and sat til about 7:45 when they called David back to produce his specimen. This was the first time he'd had to produce at the office. The old RE and my GYN both had us collect at home and bring it in. He did once have to do his business in a hospital bathroom for a SA. He said he'd do okay cause nothing could be worse than that.

We get to the room. It contained a small sofa and a cabinet of porn. Now, I'm not expert, but they could really expand their selection. There was one hustler and a shit-ton of playboys. Playboy is really the vanilla of porn. David is all about the boobs and big girl. Help a couple out.

Anyway, without getting into way TMI let's just say he had some stage fright. Just couldn't get there. I was freaking out and honestly about to cry. It was so noisy in there. We could hear people walking up and down the hallway and other people ringing the bells that indicate the specimen are ready. So romantic. I did my best to help but after nearly 45 minutes I asked if maybe I was doing more harm than good and should step out. He said maybe we should try it. So I went out to the waiting room to be a nervous wreck by myself. He was done less than 10 minutes later. Poor guy. As stressed out as I was, I can't imagine being able to get myself to orgasm in that room, so I felt bad for him.

I nearly cried when he walked out to the waiting room to join me looking smug. So proud. Maybe 25 or 30 minutes later, we were called back and I donned the oh-so-familiar blue sheet. At least it's fabric. A step up from the paper blankets of my past. The nurse, Crystal, came in.

I wish I could convey to you how wonderful she was. So sweet, just enough humor to diffuse the situation and embarrass my husband. And she didn't hurt me at all.

The count was great. 24.5 million. (This won David a high five from Crystal. He blushed.) Another compliment on my cervical mucous. I didn't even feel her put the catheter in. I didn't know it was in until she asked David if he'd like to push the plunger. When he pushed, I had 2 very small cramps, but nothing major. Layed on the table a few and then was ready to go.

Mostly felt bloated today.

Now we wait. I have a progesterone in a week. I can POAS on the 4th of July.

I had some panic this morning. David seemed so happy as we drove home. All I could say was "I hope you're not disappointed if it fails." He said "well, I will be, but we'll move on and try again next month." He's such a great husband. Just think what a great dad he'd be.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007


One of my favorite IF blogs is Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace jesters.
Anyone looking for a good read and usually a good laugh should check it out.

I mention this, not because I'm a suck up, but because tonight I was thinking about their videos and how a great one would be a Clomid PSA. It really is the ultimate gateway drug.

A year ago we were merrily trying to make a baby by (gasp!) having sex. I had hit the point where I was starting to realize things weren't quite right, but weren't quite wrong yet. Temps didn't spike, ovulation strips didn't darken, but you know, maybe I'm just doing it wrong. Of course, I'm a worrier by nature, so the thought of infertility had crossed my mind. I am a former Depo user, and I know the horror stories. I also have a few friends who needed Clomid to get pregnant. I thought a little ovulation boost would be alright. But definitely not IVF. All those hormones? All that money? Giving myself shots? Nah. I'd rather adopt.

Of course, that all changed a few short months later when I heard words like "low progesterone", "poor ovulation," "low sperm count," and a big one, "mandatory infertility coverage." (Thank you, state of Illinois!)

But it started slowly. First was Clomid. What's the big deal about 5 little pills? I mean, what the hell?

Then came IUI. That sucks. But you know, not much worse than a Pap Smear. Right?

Then more pills. Well, I'm already taking Clomid. What's 4000mg of folic acid, a baby aspirin, a multivitamin, 4 metformin and an occasional mucinex going to hurt?

Today was the next thing. A shot. To myself. In the stomach. What's one little shot, right? I mean, I'm fat. What good is all this cushioning if not to have a nice soft spot for a needle.

Clomid. The Gateway drug.

Now. What's all this about needles you're asking?
Here's the deal. It's CD13. (For the record, it's 2:37 Monday night. I'm still counting this as Monday.) Time for my first official follicle scan. I was fairly excited about it because I like to think I know my body so well, and I'm always intrigued to see if I'm right.

My left ovary has been hurting like hell. A few little twinges on the right, but mainly, the left. Well, I'm not crazy. Well, I might be crazy, but this isn't an example. The ultrasounds first words when getting a good look at ol' leftie was "Wow! You've got a HUGE one on the left side." Turns out I had 2 good ones there. A 22mm and a 29mm. Three small ones (less than 10mm) on the right.

The original plan was to have a follicle scan, a trigger shot and IUI. It's a long story, but after a great deal of confusion, a small episode of "bitchy Trish," a drive across the city and several phone calls later, I had an Ovidrel shot and an ice pack. And a plan for a shot.

A side note - the pharmacy was awesome. Not cause of the pharmacy itself but because it's a pharmacy specifically for IF drugs. The only one in the city, apparently. The cool thing is that it's in an office building and very small. The lobby was just a small room with 3 chairs. All of which were filled with infertiles. While we were waiting for our script, the other 3 women started discussing who was doing what. IUI? Clomid? Follistim? Yep. A random conversation that was music to my ears. My peeps! No idle small talk about babies and due dates and potty training. Shots in the belly all the way! David actually laughed at me because I was positively giddy when we walked out. And I wasn't even in the conversation.

So tonight at 8:30 (well, maybe closer to 9 cause I had to work up some nerve) I officially gave myself a shot in the tummy. In the bathroom at work, no less. It only occurred to me after I'd worked up the nerve to try to do the thing and walk to the bathroom that I had no alcohol to sterilize my injection site. A quick trip back to the office netted me a coworker's bottle of Purell hand sanitizer. Desperate times and all that.

It didn't hurt that bad, really. I mean, it wasn't great, but about the time I thought "OUCH" it was over.

In the interest of science (and not remotely because of a small stick peeing obsession. Really. I swear.) I peed on an OPK when I got home. Gave myself the injection a few minutes before 9. Peed on the OPK a little after 10:30. Still negative. So it takes more than an hour and a half to make its way to my pee. I'll try again when I get up tomorrow and see what happens.

We IUI Wednesday morning. Arrive at 7:30 for the hubby to provide his specimen, with the insemination expected about 8:30. You can start praying any time now.


Friday, June 15, 2007

Impulse control

David told me I have poor impulse control.
No, we weren't fighting and no, he wasn't being mean.
We were actually discussing the lingering affects of my crappy childhood.

I told him he should watch it cause my poor impulse control might lead me to punch him in the head.

Then we both laughed heartily.

Of course, after I thought about it a minute I told him that he had no idea what he was talking about. Not that he's wrong, just that he doesn't know the half of it.

My struggles with infertility are a great example. I do get mouthy. Though a good 90% of the time, it's a conscious decision to do so. Now, I do have a very Irish temper, so believe me, there is that 10% of the time that I'm just blurting shit out. But most of the time, I've been thinking about it and decided I'm making a stand.

When it comes to discussion my struggles, I'm quite certain that people think I'm socially retarded and just don't know when to shut the hell up. No. I realize it's not socially acceptable to talk about such personal issues. I just don't care.

That's why when someone asks when we're going to get around to having babies, I answer honestly. "We've been trying for quite some time. I had a miscarriage in January. So, really, anytime now would be great." (Or something like that.) Of course, people usually gape and then mutter something like "oh, umm, well, umm, I didn't know.. .. oh look, I think someone over there needs me....." and they scurry off. I'm perfectly aware that I've made them uncomfortable. I just don't care. And depending on my mood, I'm sometimes even quite pleased with myself. They've asked a too-personal question, so I give them a too-personal answer.

Now, the thing about impulse control is that people (ahem, my husband) might think that's an example of it. It's not. That's a very controlled response. Poor impulse control would be if I started sobbing the moment they ask. That's my gut instinct. Or if I were to start screaming at them about what incredibly insensitive fucking morons they are and they should never, ever say the word baby in my presence again as long as they live. That's an impulse. It is controlled.

However, sometimes it does get out of control. I had - not quite "words" - but an "uncomfortable moment," let's call it, with a coworker this week.

It started out controlled but then I got mad and a little mean and that poor impulse control thing reared its ugly head.

GFHSFM is a woman who sits right next to me at work. We are seperated by a small cubicle wall so she hears everything. She knows my whole story. She's 2 years older than me and has 7 children at home. She's actually usually very sensitive about all of my bullshit and is ordinarily someone I would consider a good-fertile. (As opposed to the smug-fertiles as a good-fertile friend once dubbed them.)

Our conversation went as follows:

GFHSFM (good-fertile having smug-fertile moment): I saw the BEST. MOVIE. EVER. last weekend!

Me: Yeah?

GFHSFM: Yes! "Knocked Up!"

Me: (impulse control kicks in, I stifled the urge to say "Are you fucking dumb?" and "Jesus, must everyone tell me about this fucking movie!?") Oh. Um.. Yeah.. I heard that was pretty good. Just not the sort of thing I'm rushing out to see currently.


Me: (Impulse control still okay, I don't say "I don't have to do shit, and if I ever thought I might see it, you saying I *HAVE* to just killed it.") Yeah.. my whole life is about trying to have a baby. Going to see a movie about a woman who gets pregnant accidently by a one night stand isn't exactly my cup of tea.

GFHSFM: *waves hand dismissively* Oh.. well, after all that, you simply MUST go see it.

Me: (Impulse control caught in the draft of her hand wave, feels face flush and mouth open) Yeah. Baby recently died.. thanks but no..

GFHSFM: What? Did something else happen recently?

Me: (all reason has ceased) Oh, I'm sorry, it was 6 months ago, I guess I SHOULD be over it by now.

GFHSFM: Oh Trish, don't be like that.

Me: (impulse control kicks back in. I don't throw a stapler at her. Instead, I put my head down and go back to my job while taking a few deep breaths.

Now, I know she meant no harm. I think it was the hand wave that sent me over the edge. And there was a split second of thought that was "I'm not backing down. I've essentially told her to drop it. She's got to understand soon that this isn't cool." that if I'd have ignored, we probably would have never gotten to that point.

My comment about the dead baby thing was over the line. I know that. Ten percent took over and I was totally at the "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FERTILE BITCH" stage. But seriously, when I start with a polite response indicating that I'm just not in an emotional place to handle this, please just SHUT THE FUCK UP.

So. Yeah. I might have an impulse control problem. Score one for the husband.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Next cycle

So, we're moving on to yet another cycle. I'm not even sure what cycle it is. My ovusoft says 12, but there were a few cycles before I started actively keeping track of my cycles and such. Plus the months of just not preventing before that. Plus ovusoft views my 9w pregnancy as 1 long cycle.

Anyway, AF arrived early yesterday. I'm convinced I tricked her into coming early by taking a pregnancy test in the morning. It was, of course, negative. Less than 3 hours later I had cramps. I couldn't decide at first if they were period cramps or metformin cramps but when I checked.. sure enough... AF.

So, I called the RE's office and set up my follicle scan. The plan was for CD12, but that falls on a Sunday, so it'll be Monday CD13 for the scan. I will be using OPKs, but if I don't have a surge by then (or, more accurately, if I haven't detected a surge by then) I'll do a trigger shot as well. I usually O on CD14 on Clomid. We'll see.

I've had a couple of low days, mood wise. Maybe PMS, maybe just exhaustion, maybe a combo, who knows? It's not the low of months past, but I do feel sad. I look at what my life has become and can't help but feel a little cheated. It took so long to get pregnant to start with. And I should be 30w pregnant this week. People around me decide to have a baby and a month or two later, they're pregnant. Nine months after that, they have a baby.

And then there is me.

I look at some friends who started trying to conceive after we did and I smile through tears at their babies. Yet, here I am. More fertility drugs, more stick peeing. I wake up at 7 and have to pee but can't get up and go because I need to take my temperature at 8 and I don't want to screw it up. I just roll over on my side convinced that if I can take some of the pressure of my gut off my bladder I can make it another hour.

Sometimes I feel angry. It's not fair. But neither is life. I know that. I don't deserve infertility, but then, who does? Maybe that mother who recently hanged her children and then herself. But then, who am I to decide that?

Mostly I just feel tired. Tired of being sad, tired of being left behind, tired of thinking about everything all the time.

When I started my period yesterday about mid-morning I sat trying to decide if that was truly CD1 or not. And how maybe it was late enough in the day that I wouldn't ovulate until CD15, depending how you count. And then I thought about how most women get a period, stick a tampon in and go on about their business. They don't have to decide if this is really a period day or not. They don't instantly start doing math in their head (and on their fingers) trying to decide what the means for scheduling the next 4 weeks. I sort of chuckled to myself because I realize how odd my life is.

I can't help but wonder what life will be like once we manage to have a baby. (Notice I assumed we will.. I'm faking it. Go with it.) Will I feel lost not temping and stick peeing? Will I randomly check my cervical mucous and feel a rush of excitment if it stretches?

Even when I was briefly pregnant, I still temped occasionally (the high number reassured me) and even once or twice peed on a cheapie OPK just to admire the gorgeous, dark 2nd line. I would assume I'll be so busy caring for an infant that maybe I won't think about it. But for now, it seems like some sort of unattainable fantasy.

I feel like I'm not really goal oriented. I'm going through all these tests and procedures, but the idea that we might actually be parents, might actually hold a baby in our arms one day is sort of fuzzy in my head. The two things seem so disconnected - all these tests and a real, live baby. The tests are just part of my life now. Just part of my routine. The way most people think of making coffee and taking a shower in the morning, I take my temperature and pee in a cup.

I don't know. Again, maybe I'm just tired. I'm working days this week which isn't normal for me. I'm getting even less sleep than normal and no real end in sight. We're traveling this weekend and expecting company the weekend after. More reminders that life keeps going I suppose.


Monday, June 4, 2007

Monday update

I called the doctor. I'm very proud of myself. It even took me over 2 hours to get through (busy!)and I still did it.

I made the appointment for 9am, ran around work making arrangements to get off tomorrow morning and then at 5:30 tonight, the doctor's office called to reschedule for tomorrow afternoon.

(Sort of) Fortunately, I was having a rather annoying day and Bitch-Trish was in full mood and I just flat out said no. Not "oh no, I'm sorry, maybe we can reschedule." but just "No. That's not possible." Funny, they managed to find me an appointment at 10:45. This bitch stuff is fun. It worked out even better that way.

1) I don't have to be up as early.
2) I now get to see the doctor I wanted to see anyway.

I told them I didn't want to see "my" PCP. They told me I had to have permission from the old doc and the new doc to change but that I could see the PA. I was fine with the PA. All I really need is a referral, but you know how that goes. Having to have double permission to change seems dumb, but whatever. But since they had to reschedule, I get to see the "new" doc I wanted anyway.

Anyway, in other news. I spotted yesterday. For about an hour. A little heavier than "spotting" but not heavy. Bright red. CD23, it was. Anyone care to figure my body out? I would love to think it was implantation spotting, but then I recognize the foreign invader (hope!) and I laugh heartily. No spotting today, though. Who knows?

In other other news, a friend had a pregnancy scare. Not in the traditional sense but in the we-thought-we-might-want-one-but-now-that-we-did-the-deed-we're-panicking way. And I was okay. I didn't cry. I was fine. And supportive. I texted her as she was peeing on a stick. How's that for healthy? Yeah. Go me! Anyway, it turned out to be okay. Negative. I then informed her that her period would start within an hour. I was close. Less than 2. I've been known to pee on a stick, wipe from said peeing, and boom.. there's AF. She's a sneaky bitch, I tell ya.

That's really it for me. CD24. I'm somewhere between 9 and 11dpo. Not really sure. My temps and CM are at odds this month. And Ovusoft is completely perplexed. It finally told me today that even though it can't detect my O, based on previous cycles, it's fairly certain I'm infertile. (Ha.. little does it know..)

Oh, and I'm officially up to two metformin/day and I haven't died yet. Though that 2nd pill makes me sort of wish I would. It'll even out eventually, RIGHT? I'll continue to repeat the it's-all-worth-it-in-the-end matra. It's a good way to kill time until the next cycle. It's a little like meditation and I hear if I'd just relax, I'd get pregnant.

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Aches and pains

Note to self:

When trying to downplay the amount of pain you're in to the husband, don't make a marathon trip to Lowes and a landscape company.

Yeah. After about 2 hours at Lowe's yesterday, I was almost in tears.
I promise I'm calling the doctor tomorrow. It hurts.

My boobs also hurt. I don't know what the deal is. I keep hearing that the breast pain is a result of progesterone. But last month my progesterone level was 30 and I barely felt a thing. This month I'm totally unmedicated and they're friggin' killing me.

I'm trying to ignore the usual breast tenderness cause. The chances of us being pregnant without fertility drugs and an IUI (and the accompanying sperm wash) are extremely, extremely, extremely slim. I'm not even really sure when I ovulated.

My chart keeping has been a little sloppy this month because I knew it was pointless. I'm guessing sometime between last Thursday and last Saturday. So I think I'm either 7dpo or 9dpo. Who knows.

Anyway, that's about it for me today. Not a lot floating around in my head. I think I'm using all my mind energy to concentrate on how everything hurts. At least it's physical these days, instead of the last year's emotional pain. There's an end in sight for this pain.


Saturday, June 2, 2007

It's all about the cycles

Well, I think I've fucked up my knee again.
I had knee surgery last April after almost 10 years of problems with it. Turned out that I had some torn cartilage, a cyst (apparently caused by the torn cartilage) and some bone damage on the back of my knee cap.

It still hurt a bit over the last year, but in a much milder way. It would throb a bit after I walked a good distance, but after I settled down, it stopped.

Last week I walked on lunch and it ached a bit afterward. No biggie. Except it didn't stop.

By Friday it hurt so bad I could cry. Saturday I was taking handfuls of ibuprofen to keep from yelling out when I moved.

Sunday I went to Chicago to get together with some Internet friends and took lots more ibuprofen.

It kept me from running away with a friend's son. Here we are:

It's a familiar pain. Like before the surgery. Trish not happy.

You may be wondering what this has to do with infertility.

Well, then you're not infertile.

We infertiles know that EVERYTHING is about infertility.

How will this affect my cycles? I could probably go to the doctor and get an MRI during the first half of my next cycle, so that would be okay. But surgery? I can't schedule surgery during the 2ww. No way in hell. So then what?

And if I get pregnant before I have surgery, that means waiting through the entire pregnancy til I can have it fixed.

My solution is to stay very still and pretend it's fine. I admit to maybe slightly minimizing the the pain to my husband. "No honey.. it's fine. A little stiff, but not too bad."

It's calmed down a good bit now. So long as I only lay on my left side at night, I don't even wake up groaning.

I know some of you are saying TRISH! GO TO THE DAMNED DOCTOR. But me, I think.. well, I'm just going to wait cause I'm going to have to wait 9 months anyway. (Don't look at me like that!)

The other factor is that my last primary care doctor appointment did NOT go well. It was my first visit with her (Everyone changed with my insurance at the beginning of the year) and I was less than impressed. She actually got so mad at me she stormed out and didn't come back. All because I told her that the chiropractor made my neck feel better. She didn't seem offended by the notion of a chiropractor, even agreeing that of course an adjustment would help - "ANYONE can give you an adjustment"- but more that I wanted to see one. "You can't just go any time you want." She was very angry. She finally said "let's just see if the doctor is even covered" and stormed out. She never came back. The nurse came back in a few minutes later and handed me a referral. I'm still scratching my head. Even my overly calm husband was perplexed.

I won't be seeing her again. However because of my crappy HMO, I don't have a lot of options for doctors. She shares an office with 5 other doctors. I'll just ask to see another one of them. But I'm sure they're going to ask WHY and I haven't decided how honest to be just then. And I dread it.

Especially for something that I don't want to do anyway.

I wish my GYN could just do everything for me. All of this would affect my cycles and such, so I should be able to use that, right?

After all, it's all about the cycles!

-- Trish