unknown

After yesterday's normal beta, I was pretty much walking on air for the rest of the day.

What an odd sensation to have a good phone call about a pregnancy. There were no "buts" at all. She actually said "Congratulations!" at the end of the call. Surreal.

If I wasn't as graceful as a drunk rhino, I think I'd have been spinning in pirouettes yesterday. I was smiling- happy, even.

Today, the anxiety is creeping in. I keep playing possibilities in my head. I repeat the beta next Friday. What if it's bad? Then I correct myself - it will be good, damn it. But what if it's not? Can I handle this again?

Tonight, I had a bit of a break down.

David and I went to see Charlie Wilson's War (very good, btw) and on the way home, he was being sweet and cute and said "How's the embryo?" I snapped back out of nowhere, "I don't know, and I won't know for a long time. Can we just not talk about it?"

He was obviously stunned, "Why not?"

I told him that I'm trying not to think about it as much as possible. I don't have any answers, I'm not going to have any answers for a long time.

He was hurt and snapped back "So when I don't talk about it, I'm wrong, but when I do, I'm still wrong?"

I just started sobbing. I explained that him asking me how the baby was makes me feel like I should KNOW if the baby is okay. And I don't. I can't. No matter what I do, I can't. That what I really think is "Well, I'm not bleeding yet." and that's an ugly answer.

I told him I was sorry, but I am just scared to death.

He softened then, "I know." He said that all I had to say was that the numbers are good. I told him he already knew that and nothing had changed. If anything happens, I'll let him know. But that for now, I don't freaking know. I'm not in control, and I don't know anything. I started blabbering about how he gets to check in once a day, but I'm the one whose heart races every time I go to the bathroom because I'm so scared there is going to be blood.

He didn't talk for a long time. I was on a roll. I told him that I didn't know if my body was killing our baby as we speak.

By then, we were home and coming in the house. I went to the bedroom to change right away and he just followed me, sort of gaping. I'm not sure he was fully prepared for the depths of my emotions.

As I started talking about how I'm scared to let him down again, he looked shocked and said "I've never blamed you for the miscarriages." I just cried and said "I know. I've done plenty of that for both of us."

He gave me a lecture then about how I've done everything I could and it's not in our hands. That getting pregnant is a risk, no matter what. There's no way around it.

I finally stopped crying and apologized for snapping at him. He asked if I was okay. All I could say was "I guess." Talk to me in 36 weeks. I might be okay then.

--Trish

breathing

I only have a minute. Swamped at work but wanted to update everyone.

15dpo hcg: 119

They didn't test my p4, which I thought was weird, but the doc agreed to supps anyway, which are called into the mail order pharmacy.


Will write a real post later.

Thanks to everyone!

--Trish

On hold 'til Friday

My RE's office won't do a beta until Friday. Thursday is my "official" test date, so they wouldn't do it early. That is beyond frustrating to me. She said she didn't want it to be low and worry needlessly. Apparently they don't have charts earlier than 15dpo? Perhaps I could send them the link to www.betabase.info.

As for me, I'm pretty much a nervous wreck. I think I'm cycling from calm to panicked and back again.

Logically, I know there is nothing I can do that I haven't already done. I just fear a 3rd miscarriage so much. I want so much for this to be "the one."

My boobs are still only very, very mildly sore. I've had a few twinges/cramps here and there, but that could frankly be uterine expansion or my period coming. As I normally have a 13 day LP, as of tonight I'm officially late, so that's something, I suppose.

Thanks to everyone for the congrats & excitement. I hope it's warranted.


--Trish

Merry Christmas. 12dpo.

I'm in shock. Since I just can't wrap my brain around being pregnant from 4 million sperm, my theory is that the sex we had the night of the IUI was the mother lode.

I'm still sort of numb.

David's excited, of course.

I actually tested yesterday morning and had a sort of confusing result. There was what looked like perhaps MAYBE an evap line, but it wasn't pink, and it was right where the plastic strip is on the back of the FRER. After staring at it for what must have been a full hour in every light possible, I decided it was definitely negative and tossed it in the trash.

The test you're looking at is from this evening about 8:00. I'm taking the fact that I have ANYTHING at 12dpo as a good sign, since both previous pregnancies were completely negative at 12dpo. But I'm not quite preparing for either course yet.

We've discussed that either way, we'll be okay. It's funny, I said to David "I'm not sure I"m ready for all of this again." And he went on to assure me that we'll be great parents. I told him that it working out wasn't the "this" I wasn't prepared for. He said we've handled that before. We'll be okay. All I could say was that yes, we sure are good at handling the bad stuff.

So, here we go again. Third pregnancy this year. Not bad for 2 people who aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant, huh?

--Trish

Merry Christmas

Shall we have a Mind Fetus symptom check?

Sore boobs.

That about sums it up for the month. We all know by now that sore boobs mean nothing, so there we go. Though I do find their soreness sort of comforting. I was a little disoriented last month when they didn't hurt.

My temp has been down around coverline the last 2 days so I'm pretty much at the point of just wishing AF would come on already.

I'll be testing Christmas night as that is 12dpo and on the off chance that I am pregnant, I want that as a reference. I've actually had the urge to pee on something for a couple of days now. The POAS addiction is a strong one, I suppose. I wish I had faith in the cheapies. The urge hasn't been strong enough to make me waste a 10 dollar stick.


Oh, speaking of my boobs- the plan for lumpy lefty is to have another exam after my next cycle. I have an appointment to be felt up by the gyny on the 9th. I'm guessing that if she can still feel it, they'll want to do a biopsy. It seems like it's getting softer to me. But that might be wishful thinking on my part. Who knows? I just dread the idea of having to punch a hole on my boob.

Honestly, I'm getting rather sick of being poked at, period. I'm way, way beyond the point of modesty. I'm just tired of being probed. I think that might explain part of my lack of sex drive as well. Keep that shit away from me. My poor husband.

Anyway, we're gearing up to visit my MIL tomorrow. I've gotten over most of my pouting. I am a little annoyed because David said he was going to smoke half a half & bake half a ham. That turned into smoking half a ham and buying a ham steak at the store. Hmmph. Not exactly the same as baking one up. Perhaps I should cover it in pineapple & brown sugar anyway. But you know, I'll live.

I'm not sure what the plan is for all the trimmings, but I've already made up my mind that if there is nothing for me to eat, I'm going to McDonald's. Not in an effort to be bitchy (that's just a perk) but I refuse to be starving on Christmas again. That seems fair enough, right? I'm pretty sure I could sneak off to do it so as not to insult my MIL. We'll see, though. Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised at the food options.

I will be eating well for Christmas Eve dinner. They have a tradition of eating something non-traditional on Christmas Eve. I volunteered to cook. It makes me feel a little bit more useful since on a holiday, I tend to feel more in the way than anything. Tacos & burritos are the menu for the eve. It's one of my favorite meals, so I'm looking forward to that.

Oh, and tonight, I made a wonderful meal if I do say so myself. The recipe actually is from the friend who coined the "Mind Fetus" term. It's a stuffed tenderloin and man was it good. I was a little intimidated but it turned out great. Cooking gives me quite a sense of accomplishment. It's one of the few things these days that really does please me.

Overall, I think I've been feeling better. I feel a bit like some of the depression is lifting. I don't have confidence in it just yet, but it's been a better few days. I'm still sad & pissed at the turns my life has taken, but in a more reasonable way than it has been. I've even been able to ponder the fact that this is my another Christmas w/o a baby in my arms w/o welling up with tears. I hope it persists.

I don't dare mention doing better to my husband because any time I mention any improvement he says "That's good!" in such a way that I feel like he's saying "I'm glad you finally got around to that." It's annoying. Just because he doesn't have the good sense to be pissed off doesn't mean I shouldn't. Right. RIGHT?

With that, I'm going to bed. Insomnia is at its peak. It's after 5am. This is the third at least 5am morning in a row. I'm in big trouble at my MIL's where the day begins not much later than that. I better sleep fast.


Merry Christmas everyone.

--Trish

Plans

I'm so freaking sad tonight.

I spent most of the day angry.

There is no specific reason for these emotions, it's just one of those days.

I started out feeling angry. Angry at my life, my crappy luck, my crappy circumstances, my crappy body, the crappy snow, the crappy parking lot snow-scraper guy at the post office, the crappy traffic... you get the idea.

I read that Jaime Lynn Spears is pregnant and I'm enraged. Seriously? I mean, SERIOUSLY? Sometimes I feel like we're players in some Shakespearean comedy. The infertile girl can't get pregnant, can't stay pregnant, but JAIME FREAKIN' LYNN SPEARS is pregnant? Fuck her. Fuck all of it. ANGRY.

Then as the anger wanes a bit, I'm overwhelmed with sadness. I'm dreading Christmas. I mean, just absolutely dreading it. I told David earlier tonight that I wish I could just skip to February first.

By then we'll know the outcome of this cycle, and have a plan for whatever the next step is. Christmas will be over. Maybe I'll have lost a few more pounds. Who knows?

I can't help getting bogged down in could-have-beens. This was supposed to be our first Christmas with the baby. This time last year I was pregnant. We talked about how "next Christmas we'll host everyone, because everyone is going to want to see their grandbaby." And not only is that not the case, but we've lost another baby on the way and don't appear to be anywhere near making another.

Truth be told, I'm also dreading spending the holiday at my in-laws. Not that I don't like them. I do. But as much as my family drives me batty- they're my family. I want my grandma's ham & my aunt's homemade beef & noodles. I want my dad to wake me up too early & be obnoxious with his cheer.

When we got engaged, we agreed to switch off holidays. The first year (3 years ago) we spent T-day at my family's and Christmas at his. Last year, it was the opposite. It's totally fair. I have no right to complain. But his mom's just doesn't feel like home to me.

That first Christmas w/o my family was awful. I felt like a stranger in a strange land. Their traditions are different. The food is different. The food served was not to my liking much at all. I had mashed potatoes & deviled eggs for Christmas dinner. Everything else was really not my cup o' tea. David smoked a ham. Everyone but me loves that. I absolutely loathe it. It's not a matter of "it's not as good as my grandma's" it's more like "If I get it in my mouth on accident, I want to throw up." I hate smokey flavors. Perhaps I'm high maintenance, but damn it, I want my grandma's ham.

David promises me this year that he's going to halve a ham and smoke half and bake the other. So that's something. But I'm still whiny. Not that I've complained to David- I haven't. It wouldn't be fair. He gives up his family to be with mine. I'm sure it sucks for him, too. (Even if I do not-so-secretly believe that my family's food is superior.)

I'm just being whiny. I know I am. But I'm sad, damn it. This is not the life I planned.


--Trish

IUI #6 complete

Lots of catching up to do. I wanted to post last night about the events of yesterday but my laptop has suddenly decided that I don't need to surf the web. AS IF.


Okay, after my lumpy boob episode, I called the hospital and was able to get an appointment on the 20th for an ultrasound.

At the encouraging of a friend, I made another couple of calls and found a place that could see me yesterday. So, yesterday I went for my ultrasound.

The ultrasound tech was less-than-pleasant. She had me point out the lump, marked it with a marker, then squirted u/s lube all over my boob. As she rubbed the wand over my boob she looked as though she'd just bitten into a lemon. I asked if she was having trouble. She sort of dismissed me and asked me to find the lump again. Then she rubbed some more. She still looked perplexed. I asked if she was not seeing anything. She replied, "Well, I'm scanning where you SAY you feel the lump."

Umm.. WTF bitch? I'm making up a lump? Because my idea of a good time is to plop my boob out for a surly chick with a bad hair cut and let her poke at it? I explained that I was not the one that found it- my doctor was. That yes, I can feel it now that it's been pointed out to me, so yes, I DO feel a lump.

She threw a towel over my boobs and told me not to wipe anything off, she'd be back.

She came back in and told me I was having a mammogram. Yes, music to a big boobed girl's ears. I just love my life. She had me get cleaned up and lead me down to the mammography area.

Fortunately, the mammogram tech had a FAR better personality. She had me find the lump (the original mark being gone from washing the 10 gallons of KY off my tit) and immediately said she could feel it. Good to know I'm not alone in my delusions.

Then the smooshing began. Honestly, the smashing wasn't the worst of it. That part really wasn't too bad. Only one of those actually hurt. It's the positioning that sucks. They have to get ALL of your tissue on the plate. So the plate is jammed into your ribs and they pull on the skin under your arm, above & below your boob and smash it in the machine. Oh, and of course, being large breasted, I had to hold the other one out of the line of sight of the machine. Sometimes I really wish these things were detachable.

Once that was done, she had me cover myself and then went to get the radiologist.

Essentially- they see nothing. Neither test revealed any anomalies. Per the radiologist, that usually means it's just normal breast tissue. But in some circumstances it could be something. I'm to follow up with my doctor. They may opt to biopsy it, they may opt to watch it. Who knows.

I feel 95% better about my boob.


In addition to my hectic day yesterday, I got a positive OPK. (Yeah, I was surprised! It worked AND was positive?) I was surging on my own a day earlier than they expected.


So, IUI #6 was today.

It went......okay.

There was little pain, which was nice. But we only had 4 million sperm. Obviously better than the 500,000 we had last month, but still firmly in "shitty" territory.

My nurse asked me if we were ready to talk about other options. She mentioned injectables/IUI and IVF. I told her my insurance is changing Jan 1 and I wasn't sure what sorts of hoops we would have to jump through so yes, we realize we're going to have to explore other options, but we don't know what all is involved yet. She recommended that if we get a negative this month that we set up a talk appointment with my doc & discuss where to go from here.

Honestly, if my insurance will let us move to IVF, I think we will just go for it. I dread it. My ovaries have hurt like HELL the last 2 days and that's with 7 follies. I can't imagine what 15 or 20 would feel like. But I also realize that we're probably just delaying the inevitable here.

So, I guess we wait and see. Of course, everyone is hopeful that this will work, but realistically, I have to look ahead.

The good part is that I had emotionally prepared myself for the low # so there were no tears today. 10 or 20 million would have been great, but I knew what we were getting into. So I'm okay.


All in all, it's been one heck of a week. Four trips to the doctor in four days. You'd think I was 81 instead of 31.


Thank you to everyone who responded about my boob crisis. I really, really appreciate the love & support I get from the community.


--Trish

Pouring

When it rains, it pours.

I have a lump in my left breast.

I have an ultrasound scheduled for 12/20 to get a better look at it.

Per the order:

Left Breast ultrasound. Palpable mass @ 4:00. 1x2cm on left breast, firm but mobile. And then there is a drawing of my boob. (That part made me laugh.)


I don't know how I didn't know it was there. Honestly, though, even when she felt it, when I tried to feel, I couldn't tell. When standing and poking, I can definitely feel it, though.


I'm a little freaked out. I know I'm only 31 and on hormones. She thinks it's "just a cyst" based on the feel of it. But I'm still freaked out.


I hate my body. It just seems like it's one thing after another. I hate my body.


Trish

Cycle 8 billion, Day 12.

In my charts, this is listed at cycle 18. There were a couple of months of charts before I bought ovusoft that were lost in a computer crash, so it's probably my 20th or 21st charted cycle. There were 6 months of "not-preventing" before that. The two pregnancies added time as well.

So we're at 26 months now, I think.

It seems more like 260. Or 8 billion.

Had my CD12 monitoring today.

Left ovary:
18mm
13mm
(2) 10mm

Right ovary:
18mm
(2) ~10mm
Possibly a 4th small one, but she was having trouble getting a good angle on it.

Lining: 5.8mm

They've decided to give me another 2 days to surge on my own and if nothing by Wednesday, I'll trigger Wednesday night & IUI on Friday.

I feel pretty okay with that. I usually ovulate around CD15 on Clomid. Friday morning would be pretty much CD15 1/2.

I just hope we have some sperm this month.

On the emotional front, I'm doing better.

David has gone out of his way to check in with me. He's made sure to take his vitamins, and he even managed to hit the gym one day w/o me. It helps a lot to feel like he's in this with me.

Tomorrow I have my pap smear with my GYN. It's funny that I dread it. I think it's mostly the sitting in the waiting room with 20 pregnant women. Wish me luck.


--Trish

Dam breaking

Today was a rough day.

I finally worked up the courage to discuss the brewing anger I've had lately. I swear, on my life, I was calm. I was rational. I was sensitive.

He was defensive.

It started out fairly well. I asked if he thought maybe I was depressed. That lead into me talking about how angry I've been. I really tried to make it about me. So much for that.

When he started yelling, I told him I was sorry and I shouldn't have mentioned it. That didn't dissuade him.

He rarely yells. I don't handle it well when he does. I left. Maybe not the best thing but I just had to get out. He seemed surprised when I emerged fully dressed & grabbed my keys.

I went and sat in the park for a while and sobbed. I don't know how much I was crying about our argument, really. I couldn't stop. I cried over his words. I cried over my words. I cried about my anger. I cried for our babies. I cried about our lack of sperm. I cried about the unfairness of it all.

I honestly don't think I've cried that hard since my first miscarriage. The weird thing was that I could hear myself wailing. I was thinking how I almost sound like I'm laughing when I cry that hard. You'd think that would make the crying stop. Nope.

I think it was a healthy cry. I needed to get it out. I've been so emotionally pent up. That's probably a big part of my anger.

After I talked to an infertile friend for a while, I felt strong enough to go home.

He met me at the door. We talked a long time.

I think the words that hurt me the most were "All you do is complain." I finally said to him that I have a lot to complain about. He agreed. It was funny how much him agreeing helped me.

I told him that when he tells me to be happy or tells me not to be negative it doesn't remotely make me feel better. It actually makes me feel worse. He was actually surprised. Apparently he truly thought that saying "You can't think about the bad stuff." would ACTUALLY make me NOT think about the bad stuff.

Men are weird. That's all I can say.

He apologized for not helping. He kept saying he wishes he could make me happier. I told him he makes me happy. And that he frustrates the living shit out of me.


He's promised to do better. We picked up his new vitamins this weekend. We've been to the gym and are going again tomorrow.

We talked about what happens if this doesn't work. What if we can't have a baby? Maybe we can get pregnant again, maybe we can't. If we do get pregnant again, there are no guarantees. Maybe I lose another baby... and another.. and another. Neither of us know what our stopping point is.

I talked about some of my fears about adoption. He's convinced we'll be parents one way or another.

All in all, it was a conversation that needed to be had. I stop short of saying it was good. I still feel too much sadness to call it good. We've made up. I feel less angry.

But there are so many questions left unanswered. I don't think I know what good feels like anymore.


--Trish