I'm Back...

Sorry for the absence folks... things have been a little hard to take these days.  It is not what you think though.  We actually got good news a little over two weeks ago from the blood tests.  For those of you familiar with the IVF process, you get to completely by-pass the whole pee on a stick thing (yea) and go straight to the blood test.

Our beta came back at a solid 300.  For a reference point, 25 is considered pregnant.  Then in two days we were to go back for more bloodwork.  That number (300) must double.  And double it did, actually it more than tripled and that was exactly what my RE wanted.

This week we go for pictures.  Sounds easy doesn't it?

But please let me assure you these last two weeks have been no cake-walk.... by no means. 

For months I've been focused on just getting a positive test.  Just a little pink line or a "congratulations, Emily!  It's positive" phone call.  That's it.  And now that we've got it, I'm at a total loss as to what to do next.

This past summer I became a walking-talking encyclopedia of reproductive information, studying nothing about pregnancy and what to expect after the pink line.

I didn't even have a plan of action for what to do once you get the pink line.  Because we did IVF, we didn't really get the luxury of keeping the news to ourselves for the first couple of weeks like other non-IVF couples.  My family knew what was going on.  His family, for the most part, knew what was going on.  Getting pregnant takes a village... and several doctors, nurses, gynecological tools, shots, microscopes, embryologists, scary procedures, and even scarier phone calls about cell division...

And after the news came out then I suddenly felt at odds-- like someone who had geared up for battle and unexpectedly won, knowing very little about what was to come next.  And angry!  It was nobodies business and I made it clear that this was not to be something we make a big deal about. Ever heard the word Miscarriage?  Ever heard the word Ectopic Pregnancy?  Blighted Ovum?  Molar Pregnancy?  So many things could go wrong and so many things are never a guarantee.  I'm an honest-to-goodness example of how things don't always turn out the way they are supposed to.  Wasn't the Clomid supposed to do the trick back last winter?  Wasn't the shots and perfectly timed interactions with the Husband supposed be just the ticket?

So I've learned to just be paranoid like my friend who is convinced that there are three black cars that follow his every move cautious. 

Husband's family didn't get the memo.  When they got the news they obviously never heard the part about "we aren't telling anyone" line.  And the rational side of me totally gets it.  It is a big deal.  Just five short years ago I was in their shoes when my favorite IVF'er finally got her Big Fat Positive.  I was ready to shout it from every roof-top.  But I also remember her reining us all back in... because it is a scary world out there.

However I have this irrational side of me.  The passive-aggressive side of me that should never be crossed.  The irrational, hormonal side that can't even sit through a Designing Women's re-run without tearing up feels robbed... a little bit violated... ignored.  How dare someone just go around spreading information that isn't supposed to be told!  I swear I really now understand how those silly 4th graders feel...

But I also think I now understand why people do unexpected things after stressful life-altering events or why they retreat from the world for a bit.  You've got to re-center.  Re-focus...

Infertility doesn't run in the Husband's family as far as I know.  They don't know about how the whole process really messes with your head.  That's why they talk so damned much.  But the odds are not in their favor-- 1 in 5 couples experiences infertility to some degree... and there are a lot of grandchildren over there....  I'm not saying, but I'm just saying it may not just be us!

So on this week we go for pictures and to verify that there is something going on in there...  this is my update.  Oh, and Zofran is my new best friend.  Nausea is a bitch and it making me really reevaluate why I tried so hard to get in this condition in the first place.

And just as a disclaimer:  we are still not telling anyone.... not that that matters to some people.  But if you are reading this you probably understand where I'm coming from.

Thanks for all the good wishes, prayers and positive thoughts!

Radio Silence

Stay tuned for updates...  I have not forgotten about my blog but I am taking some much needed time to just. be. normal.

I miss normal so much.

Have a great weekend!

It Feels Good to Feel Good...

I can't say that I've been real proud of myself the last few days.   I'm sure that the embryos in my uterus are pretty disappointed in me too.  I've been a little bit of a wreck-- an emotional wreck-- these days and all because I feel good.

I'm officially crazy.

I woke up Tuesday morning feeling great.  Rested.  Relaxed.  And I should have been because for the last few days all I did was sleep, lay around, lounge... but you know me.  Feeling good is a bad thing.

So I obsessed over how my pants were fitting a little loose and how I could walk around without feeling my ovaries sliding around on my insides.  I felt like such a fertility failure.  And then, even after a very relaxing acupuncture treatment, I still broke down and cried like a little girl.... all because I felt good.  You can't see me right now as I type but I'm shaking my own head at me.

But then I pulled myself together.  Today I called the doctor.  They told me that feeling good was okay.  It is good to feel good!

It really is too early to start this mess.

Continue to send happy thoughts our way.

Rolling on the Rolling Coaster...

If you were a fly on our wall, you'd think I'm sick.  I've done nothing but lay around the house for the sake of the two embryos that were implanted Sunday morning.  Doctor's orders... two days of rest.

Yesterday also marked my entry into the emotional roller coaster that is IVF.  The embryologist that performed the transfer had a heavy Asian accent and neither me nor the Husband could hardly understand her.  She told us, I think, that we had two really nice embryos to transfer, one being very good... and possibly one to freeze tomorrow.

One?  What happened to Friday's report that everything was going great?  My heart sunk... and then I started to obsess and worry that these two little guys that were being left under by supervision were not going to make it... because let's be honest, I have no idea how to be a normal person and just relax and go with the flow.

Regardless, I had to suck it up and before I knew it, the little guys were safely in my uterus.  I think the Husband has a whole new respect for what women go through with gynecological tools...

Then today, while I was laying in the bed feeling sorry for myself, worried that we'd have to go through all the medication and surgery again... the lab called.  The embryologist that I had been working with all last week called and said that they were going to freeze 5 embryos today!

Suddenly much of the pressure I had been putting on myself was lifted.... relief.  Not that this changes anything really, but for whatever reason, it makes me feel less stressed-- a little less crazy and a lot less overwhelmed.

Continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers...  we definitely need them!

We are a Go...

We are a go for Sunday's Egg Transfer.  The lab called this morning.  The egg babies are developing safely in their little incubator.  Our numbers have fallen from 19 to 18 and there are a few that are a little behind in their development, but that doesn't mean that they can't catch up.  And because things are looking positive, we are get to go forward with the more favorable 5 day transfer.

Please keep us in your prayers and thoughts.... we sure could use them!

Egg Round Up (Surviving the Egg Retrival)...

Tuesday was a really tough morning for me.  As cool as I had been about having my eggs sucked out of my lady parts, Tuesday morning I lost all my nerve.  The last thing I wanted to have done to me Tuesday morning was to have this procedure.  I was even more less than thrilled when the cute little nurses' aid pulled me into the surgical suite bathroom so I could change into a hospital gown, booties and a hair net.

It was bad enough that I was about to be violated, but on top of it all it was going to happen in an ill fitting gown and ridiculous hat!  It was just too much...

The last time I had any sort of procedure done, my oral surgeon had been kind enough to put me on nerve pills.  But nerve pills are probably not good for ovaries or the follicles that live in them so I didn't dare ask.  But suddenly I couldn't stop my legs from shaking.  I could not speak in a normal sounding voice because I was surely going to burst out into tears at any second.  The lady on the other side of the curtain was recovering from some sort of surgery and was moaning... loudly.  I kept thinking, in a little bit, that is going to be me... miserable and in pain.

Then it was time.  They had the Husband go back to the waiting room.  The nurse had me by the hand and we were heading to the cold room where all the action was going to happen.

They had me lie down.  They hung the IV bag and started injecting the medicine that would make me sleep.  At that moment I looked down and saw the white medicine being injected and my mind went right to Michael Jackson and I started to laugh.  The nurse said, "Oh, don't cry" and I replied, "I'm not cryinging, I'm laughing." 

And then I was back in the recovery area.  The Husband was there and the nurse was asking me to drink apple juice and I felt so reliefed that it was over.  I felt surprisingly good... like I had slept for days and all of a sudden I was talking about Michael Jackson.  I completely understand why he had Dr. Murray hook him up with all those IV medications.  They are good stuff.

Sure I was a little crampy and my mouth was completely dry... but things were looking up.  I no longer had the ridiculous hair net on and I was finished with the procedure.  Woo Hoo!

According to the husband I did a lot of talking... I remember talking about Michael Jackson and possibly Whitney Houston.  But I defiantely remember asking about how many eggs we harvested.  No one could tell me at first.  The nurse I came back and told me 18.  Somewhere along the way they must have miscounted because when the lab called the number grew to 20.

But 18 or 20 I was thrilled.  Thrilled that it was over... thrilled that I lived... thrilled that I wasn't laying in a bed moaning and groaning like that other lady.

On Wednesday, when the lab called and confirmed that it was 20 eggs, not 18, they also confirmed that all 20 were mature and all but one fertilized.  In my shock, I didn't ask how they fertilized them.  I didn't ask why I was told 18 and not 20 and I certainly didn't ask what all this meant.  Of course, now I'm full of questions and of course, we are back to our waiting game.  Tomorrow is a tentative transfer.  Because things were looking positive, we may be pushed to a Sunday transfer and that is fine with me.

I'm a little overstimulated from all the medication and the super-ovulation... so I'd like a couple more days to deflate, drink the Gatorade and rest...  sounds like a plan.

And I sure to do love a good plan.

Take it easy Y'all...

Pre-Egg Retrival Pitty Party...

So maybe being hepped up on hormone shots, watching Entertainment Tonight's in-depth coverage of Whitney Houston's funneral coming home ceremony is not such a good idea the night before an egg retrival surgery.

I'm a little bit in a egg retrival funk.  I'm going to blame it on nerves... and sleep depreviation...and my friend, Stress.  Where is the at-home acupuncture kit when you really need it?  My daddy use to tell me to never marry a farmer.  Who knew he was right-- I should have married an acupuncturist.  Then I could be sitting here on the couch with tiny needles sticking out of my forehead, hepped up on hormone shots watching Whitney Houston's funneral coverage and feeling more calm about being violated tomorrow morning and not as sad that Kevin Costner isn't a close, personal friend.  He seems like the nicest guy, doesn't he?

But the Husband is much funnier than any acpuncturist I've ever met and a sense of humor is really important when you are going through all this infertility junk. 

All I know is that I'm having a little pre-egg retrival pitty party. Poor Whitney.  Poor Me.  And for good measure, poor Michael Jackson. 

I know, I'm being a little dramatic... of course having the potential to create a baby is much better than being dead... but tomorrow I'm going to have a needle injected into a very sensative area to suck out a bunch of eggs that I worked very hard to create and I don't think Whitney is... nor MJ for that matter.

The sensible side of me knows that this will all be over before I know it.  So suck it up Emily!  Soon I'll be home resting in my super comfy bed and watching re-runs of Designing Women and the Gilmore Girls.

Send some good thoughts and prayers my way this week.  I'm going to be needing them...