What I Want

Infertility continues to beat the entire shit out of me. She is the worse abuser. Not only are her kicks and punches indescribably painful, but they’re well placed. I know they’re there. I feel the impact, but none of it is visible to the naked eye.

I just wish I had one friend, one family member who could or would hold my hand and let me cry. I don’t want to hear I’m sorry. I just want someone to say, “Fuck this shit. Fuck infertility. Let’s go drink and pout.” I want them to be angry with me and okay with my anger. I know that’s a lot to ask of people. We always want to make others feel better. I’m guilty of it too.

It looks as if we have finally diagnosed my infertility: fibroids, endometriosis and bad tubes. Perhaps I would have become a mother, if I had caught the tube thing earlier. It doesn’t matter now because to top it off, my eggs aged prematurely.

I thought I didn’t have anymore tears to give this, but here I sit. Crying. It’s ugly. It’s a tear-stained, puffy, snot-falling cry. I know this is not a punishment from God, but it certainly feels like it. This certainly feels like more than I was ever meant to bear. How does one find authentic joy when their body has betrayed them so?

The answer to that question doesn't matter anymore. This long, dramatic, ridiculous chapter of my life is over. I'd like to say that I finally have the strength to walk away, but that's not the truth. I'm just out of weapons. I'm defeated. It's not the way I wanted it to end, but at least I can say I fought - no matter how un-valiantly - I definitely fought...to a fault and likely to my detriment.

What Will They Take Next?

I’m pretty sure there’s a doctor out there with jars of my lady parts on his trophy shelf. Picture pickled fibroids, fallopian tubes and cysts. I figure he’s like a hunter always looking to add to the display.

I had my latest surgery just about a week ago. I went in with the most negative and nasty state of mind you can imagine. It’s the worst I’ve ever felt mentally before a surgery (this was my fourth, so I am a surgery veteran). Here’s the crazy thing: when I woke up after the surgery, I felt the best I’d ever felt post-op. Maybe the drugs were better?

This was indeed my least invasive surgery. My uterus is a normal size, there were no massive fibroids complicating the situation, and I truly believe my increased water intake helped make this particular operation easier on my body than the others.

So what did they take, you ask? The Doc and his gang of understudies removed my right fallopian tube, which was dilated, and the endometrioma blocking my left ovary.

What’s next? My surgeon and RE agreed I should take Lupron to put my body in a medically induced state of menopause. The goal is to keep the fibroids and endometriosis at bay, until we can figure out if we want to try to use this bionic uterus to grow some donor-egg-assisted embryos someday.

Money is definitely an issue. I’m still paying off the loan from my first IVF. I’d give anything to have those healthy embryos back. I should have waited to transfer them after removing fibroids, but I didn’t want to have another surgery. My stubbornness cost me big time. Oh well. All I can do is march forward now.

I’m really grateful that I came out of this surgery all right. I attribute the outcome to prayer. I asked people to pray for me and they did. I’m thankful, so I won’t complain.

I am often wondering what the surgeon will try to take out of my body next.  He’s totally obsessed with me. Totally. (I’m just kidding by the way).

He Rebuilt My Uterus

I am back with a quick update.  I am three weeks post my second fibroid removal surgery.  This one was more intense, and required a longer recovery.

The surgeon claims he rebuilt my uterus.  After reading the surgery report, my RE said it's like I got a uterine transplant, except it's still my uterus.

I don't know what to think.  The last time I had one of these surgeries, I was sure the miracle of pregnancy would follow fast.  Well...it didn't.  Anyways, I have to wait 8-10 months to try out this marvelous, bionic baby sack.  I'm just hoping that I'll have a flat tummy when this is all said and done.  I feel bad for you if you catch me at the beach.  I'll have this surgery-scarred belly on display for all to see.  Yessss!

My RE will run hormone tests upon the arrival of my next period.  From there, we may go fishing for eggs or give up completely to focus on the last two options: donor eggs (which simultaneously excites me and freaks me out) or adoption.

I last attempted to create embryos in November.  We only got one viable five-day embryo, which promptly failed genetic testing.  Of course, we also had a bit of an issue/accident.  The Hubs and I also made a rogue embryo (surprise!).  It decided to settle into my left Fallopian tube.  I had to have surgery to get that sucker removed, along with my beloved tube.

After I read both surgery reports (fibroid and ectopic), I gathered that I had lots of scar tissue.  It had wrapped itself around my tubes and ovaries binding them together.  Yikes!  When we found the ectopic pregnancy, I was about 6 weeks pregnant, but my uterus was 18-19 weeks gestation size.  While the embryo was in my tube, my fibroids were growing like they were on steroids inside my uterus.  HOLY MOLY!

I'm just hoping I don't have scar tissue again.  I find it so interesting that I've had three surgeries in four years, especially since after the first one, I swore I wasn't doing it again. Lesson?  I have stopped creating hard and fast rules for my bizarre little life.  My mantra isn't YES TO EVERYTHING.  However, It doesn't include HARD NEVERS.

I'm still paying off that first IVF loan, plus I have bills coming in from this last surgery, but I'm not angry.  I'm thankful to have a job to pay them.  I go back to work next week, and when I get discouraged about treatment etc., I will remind myself that it could be A LOT worse.

With all of that said, I'm just letting the process happen.  After all, I can't use my remodeled uterus for 8-10 months.  I guess I'll be on birth control pills (even though it seems pointless) because when it shouldn't happen, we make accidental embryos a la November.  Plus, I'm not paying for 10 months of condoms...that's expensive.

Left Tube? Gone!

Sooooo I planned to have a fibroid removal surgery this week.  I felt physically awful after my October retrieval, which netted absolutely no usable embryos.  A lump in my abdomen was growing.  I was sure my fibroids were doing a dirty dance and needed to be removed pronto.  I even moved the surgery up by two weeks.  Well, during the pre-op appointment I tested positive for pregnancy.  Say what?

Here's how the conversation went.

Doctor:  When was your last period?
Me:  I don't know.  It was for my last retrieval. (I looked at my phone and learned my last period was September 25th. It was November 3rd. )
Doctor:  Well, you tested positive for pregnancy.  We tested it twice. I don't think this could be a trigger shot.
Me:  That doesn't make any sense.  I'll call my RE.  Don't worry about it.  This is stupid.  Continue on because I'm having surgery next week.

Well, the RE wanted me to come to her office on that day, which I thought was odd.  I couldn't go because the surgeon's office is more than an hour away from her office and I had to go to work.  I went in the next day.  Of course, there was nothing in my uterus because we all know I can't get pregnant. The RE thought she saw something on the far left.  When she checked my beta it was at 4,000+.  That thing on the far left was my fallopian tube being stretched by a damn embryo.  I had surgery the next day.  They couldn't save my tube.  They also couldn't tackle the fibroids because they said the pregnancy hormone causes too much blood flow in the uterus.  Great!  Now I have to go back to get knifed up again in 3 to 4 months.

Guys, my left tube was allegedly my good one.  The doctor had concerns about the right one that were never confirmed.  Now we know something in the left wasn't letting that embryo pass, but that's okay.  I'm pretty sure the pregnancy would have ended badly because that batch of eggs was terrible.

I'm hurt.  The RE says an egg obviously slipped out before the retrieval and the Hubs left some sperm that were ready to go.  I didn't get to feel any joy of a pregnancy, yet I'd achieved something I couldn't do in 8 years.  That's fine.  I didn't experience heartbreak because there was no attachment.  For me, that embryo was never a baby, but a problem that needed to be removed because everyone feared it would rupture my tube and kill me.  Whatever.

It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on me.  I have used up my insurance.  I am in deep debt.  I no longer have confidence in any of this.  I don't think I can continue with Assisted Reproductive Technology any more.  I can't afford it, and I'm no longer willing to gamble on it.  However, I'll take supplements and go to the acupuncture dude in case there's a miracle out there for me.

I will get the fibroid surgery in four months because this surgeon was top notch.  My incisions look fantastic and I didn't wake up in pain.  As I mentioned before, once I'm done with that, it's just me and acupuncture dude.  I'm 34.  This set back would mean I couldn't do anything for nearly a year anyway.
I told the Hubs it's time to look at adoption.

I go back to work today, after two weeks of recovery.  I've got to say, I'm happy to go.  It sucks being off because someone popped open your belly button.  Ugh!  It also sucks having to file for temporary disability for two freaking weeks.  ugh!  It's going to be really annoying when I have to file for a month with the fibroid surgery.

10 Days Post IUI

I am ten days post IUI.  I'm 99.9% sure I'm NOT pregnant, but there's still that little bit of hope.  Damn!

Anyway, I kind of want to stop taking my progesterone because I'll have two complete boxes left, instead of opening one up for the last three days of this situation.

Of course I'm thinking about testing early, but I don't have a test at home.  I'm too chicken to go buy one from the store because I just feel stupid.  I'd rather buy pads and tampons.  In fact, I need to pick up some of those.  I think I'll pay for the sanitary napkins and make Hubby pick up a home test for me.  It's the least he can do:-)

I am going to a baby shower on Saturday for a friend having twins.  I am afraid to go, but I know it will be so fancy that I want to see it.  I know that's dumb.  The truth is, I feel like this is my test and I feel like I can make it.  Men are invited, so it's kind of like a regular party.  I plan to stick to my husband like glue and hang out in the men circles.  I can feign love of all things sports.

With that said, I've completely stopped talking to my pregnant best friend.  I guess we weren't really best friends?  She's totally consumed with pregnancy. It's all she talks about and I just can't handle it.  I'm working on my fourth ART failure here.  It's hard to listen to someone who has pregnancy brain.  My mother says maybe if I told my pal that at the start of her pregnancy, my second FET failed, and my fibroids are growing, and my recent IVF failed and had to be converted to an IUI, maybe she would get it.  However, I don't want to kill her joy.  I just decided to pull back and because we live so far away, I just pulled all the way out of the relationship.  It hurts, but life must go on and so it is.

I have found a primary care doctor and I'm going for a physical next Monday.  It's my first one as an adult.  I know. I'm not exactly a walking example of how to take care of yourself.  Hopefully, I 'm not too traumatized when it's over.
 

IUI #2 -- DONE!

Do I get a badge?  I should get a badge because I just finished IUI #2 like a champ.  That torture device they put in my nether region tried to break me down, but I was strong and endured.  Of course I cried in the 15 minutes Witch Doctor makes you wait after the procedure.  It was a short burst of sadness for the state of my reproductive life.  Hubby sang to me and well, I couldn't be sad after that. There's something about a man whispering, yet singing an r-n-b song as hard as he can, that just melts all the troubles away-- temporarily.

When it was all over, I came home to my sweet pups and resumed my role as Dog Park Mom.  So life goes on....

I Should Be Pissed

I should be pissed.  This IVF is a failure and is being converted into an IUI, but at the moment I don't care.  What?  The Hubs and I triggered last night and we go in for the "catheter dance" tomorrow morning.  I've got about four or five follicles, but only one really big one.  Witch Doc, thought she could get one blast out of that, but understood it wouldn't be worth risking our IVF insurance on it.  So, IUI it is.

Now the surgeon...Whew!  My appointment was at 11:30am.  His office is an hour drive from my home, without traffic.  We got there at 11am, fill out papers, get comfy and then....DUDE IS NOT IN THE OFFICE.  His staff claimed he was in emergency surgery.  (uh huh Sure!)  They asked us to return at about 12:30, but at 12ish, I got a call saying it will be closer to 1pm.  I got UPSET and cancelled the damn appointment, but my level-headed husband made me call them back and reverse that decision.  UGH! However, I let them know that it was totally unprofessional for them not to call us ahead of time.  I understand emergency surgeries, but that is why surgeons hire a staff.  It is the staff's duty to make sure all meetings are cancelled and all impacted parties are notified.  They apologized, but it didn't change the fact that this mess turned into a 6 hour doctor visit.

The Surgeon never touched me.  His niece, who is a doctor, examined me.  She explained how they would do the procedure very thoroughly and she was actually quite nice and contrite about being late.  We didn't see the Surgeon, until about 4!  He was also apologetic, but here's the thing:  I wanted to see him, so I could hate him and NOT have to worry about this surgery anymore.  I did NOT hate him.  He was very pleasant, confident and appeared honest.

I left confused and cried in the car.  It wasn't the "woe-is-me" cry.  It was more like the "what-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-do" cry.  *sigh*

Anyway, I'm glad I took the day off work for those shenanigans because I was a mess.  I thought I would get really sad, and there were moments when I almost did, but my husband kept working with me.  In the end, I was ok.  All in all, it was a good day.

Now back to the IUI.  WHAT IN THE HELL?  What am I supposed to do with a damn IUI?  It is like a really bad joke, right?  I can't wait until Saturday.  I am going to drink so many mojitoes that I may just sleep at the bar.

Lame!

This cycle is looking quite lame.  It's so lame that Doc told me there is a chance we may have to convert to IUI, so that I don't waste any of my insurance money.  Yikes!  I've got about four follicles popping at the moment.  That's a far cry from the 11 that were doing back flips during the last cycle.  So what have we learned?  Maybe acupuncture really does work.

Of course Witch Doctor delivers this news with the most positive spin, so I didn't immediately freak out.  I should also add that it was really early in the morning for me (I work the equivalent of a second shift, so I prefer to be a late riser.  However, Wally has taken that away from me).  I started to cry a little in the car, and Hubby consoled me.  I really don't have time to feel sorry for myself at the moment because I just went through the dogs' morning routine.  This is my first chance to sit down.  It's 11am.  I got home from the doctor's office at 8:30am.

Doc says these are the results she expected from me during the last IVF.  This is more in line with my DOR (bad eggs).  *sigh*  Anyway, I go see the surgeon on Wednesday, so I better get off of here and go fill out my new patient forms.

If you pray, and you want to pray for me, don't pray for my IVF or the quality of eggs.  Please  ask that I'm strong enough to accept whatever the outcome is.  Thanks.

Now, off to fill out forms that ask way more questions than I care to answer:-)

I'm A Fool

Happy April Fool's Day!  Want to know a secret?  I start stemming tonight for an egg retrieval.  I don't know who is paying for this mess.  My insurance changed.  Yes. Changed.  That means it no longer offers the three tries.  It only offers ONE.  AND, I need some pre-authorization.  I may truly be screwed, but I figured I'd pay the little pre fees and if I can't come up with the rest, oh well....PAYMENT PLAN.


That makes me a what?  A DAMN FOOL (that's worse than being a sucker).  *bows and waives to the crowd*

In case you're wondering what's in my medicine bag this time around, I'll drop a few expensive names. I have menopur, follistim, ganirelix and HGH.  Woot Woot!  The insurance covered 85% up to $5,000.   I apparently went over because I got hit with a $1300 bill.  I wondered how that happened, since last time I paid out of pocket and I don't remember topping 5 grand.  Well, last time I had bravelle.  That stuff is cheaper because it comes in powder form and doesn't need a fancy pen and needles like follistim.  I wish Witch Doctor and the gang would have let a Player know.  I would have gladly gone for the powder.  Truthfully, I don't think bravelle was on my insurance list.

We are just hoping for a few good eggs.  If our pockets allow, we'd also like to genetically test them, but that's definitely counting the chickens before they hatch. (I just rolled my eyes at myself)

Next Wednesday, I have an appointment to see the man who will likely chop up my uterus.  Wednesday night, I'll probably drink margaritas and cry.  Ain't life grand?

By the way, I probably spelled all of those medications wrong.  I paid enough for them to disrespect the spelling any way I like.

I Was Right

I went to Witch Doctor for the ol' ultrasound and guess what?  My fibroids have doubled in size since my first visit with her in December of 2012.  One is beginning to obstruct her view of my right ovary.
Her recommendation?  Retrieve some eggs, try to make some embryos, freeze them and get my largest fibroids removed.

I have made an appointment with some specialist at Stanford.  He's supposed to be some world renowned expert on Fibroids and Endrometriosis.  What does that mean to me?  Jack shit!  My last surgeon was all special with multiple titles.

Once again, I'm angry, heartbroken and confused.  I feel like I have no one to talk to about this.  My husband is the eternal optimist, and it feels like he's ignoring my concerns.  My mother and I really just can't talk about this subject in a meaningful way.  My soon-to-be-ex-bestie is pregnant and I don't want to bog her down my tragic tale.  The shrink is pretty much useless.  That leaves me feeling very alone.

I'm treading water over here.  I'm barely keeping my head afloat.  No matter what, I have to get some type of surgery AGAIN.  I didn't want another one.  I didn't like the first one.  I don't like surgeries.  Everyone pretends like they're no big deal, except they are.  People are cutting you open, exposing your insides, while you're passed out on the table.  You have to hope and pray that the surgeon is having a good day and doesn't fuck you up.  And even if he stitches you back up with flying colors, you have to pray the nurses in recovery actually know what they're doing.  My last post-op experience wasn't great.

Anyway, I wish there was a reset button I could press for this life, but that's not possible.  So, I'll just keep treading.

Well on a happier note, Wally, my pup, passed his training class.  Now, we're going to basic manners two.  AND I'm back in the jeans I wore when I first met Witch Doctor.  WooHoo!  I looked at some of the pictures after my first failure, and I was a whale.  People pretended they didn't see me carrying 10 to 15 pounds of pain.  Ridiculous.

Joy In The Journey?

Find the joy in the journey?

Who came up with that shit?

Before you ever say that crap to me, please think about this scenario:

You're happily driving in your car, when suddenly a car t-bones you.  The impact of the crash rattles through your body and when it it's over, you can't move.  Your arm is broken, your leg is broken and you can't feel your toes.  You open your mouth and words don't come out.  Emergency responders get there as fast as they can.  They extricate you from the car.  Now, you have to fight your way back to life.  You have to learn to walk, to talk, and to live.  As you're holding on to parallel bars trying to take your first desperate step since the crash, someone walks up to you and says, "enjoy the journey."

Wouldn't you want to slap the entire shit out of that person?

Well, that's what I feel like when that damn phrase pops up, as I deal with this infertility crap.  There is NOTHING about this journey to enjoy. NOTHING!

If you are lucky enough to get pregnant and have a child or adopt or find a surrogate, enjoy the journey THAT brings, BUT this shit? There is not a single drop of joy.  Not when it's a decade strong. If you've found some joy, get on your knees and thank God, but don't bring that shit to me.  DON'T!


*sigh*  I just really needed to get that out.  Now, let me find some joy in this day.  Anyone have any Girl Scout cookies?

Who Needs a Title?

My period finally came on her own.  My cycle was 51 days.  If I hadn't had a missed period, this one actually would have been on time (does that make sense?).  However, it did come with some concerns.  I did not have extremely painful cramps, but I did have ridiculously uncomfortable pressure which is quite reminiscent of the days before my fibroid removal surgery.  At the risk of sounding more and more like a hypochondriac, I sent Witch Doctor a note and told her I probably needed an ultrasound.  She told me to come on in.  So, I set an appointment.  Oh!  but let me back up.  Before that, Witch Doctor sent me in for more blood work.  I got my estrogen and FSH checked on cycle day 2.  I'm waiting for results.

Anyway, I went backwards and forwards over whether to contact her.  But then I remembered the fact that my body had been telling me something was off for years.  Instead of thoroughly checking it out, I hoped that it was implantation or this or that.  Well, it wasn't any of that.  It was my DAMN fibroids eating well, growing, and destroying my uterus.

I came across the story of MSNBC host Melissa Harris-Perry.  I don't really watch her show.  I only really know her name because she popped up in a book a read.  Well, she just had a baby.  Ok, not really.  Her surrogate just had her baby.  Melissa's fibroids were so bad that she had her uterus removed.  She already had one child and didn't think she'd want another.  But she fell in love....and I'm sure you know how the story goes.  Anyway she did IVF.   She still had her ovaries.  She and her husband made some embryos, and a surrogate baked them.  You can read a better version of her story here.

Her tale kind of got my hopes up.  I started thinking that maybe Hubs and I could make some more embryos and do the same.  Then I remembered that I also have poor egg quality.  I also remembered that I'd already flushed 4 good embryos down the toilet and there's no guaranteeing I'd get as many good ones this time around.  Then I remembered I don't have the money for the lawyers and fees that come along with surrogacy.  So, I was kind of reduced to crying at the end of the entire thought process.

I'm a ball of sunshine, right?

Questions Answered

In my mind, someone is interviewing me about this ridiculous cycle.  So below are my answers.

This is day 41.  What the (insert desired curse word here)?  My period still has not come home.  She is missing!!!!

Witch Doctor told me to take progesterone for the next seven nights.  Thank goodness I still had some progesterone capsules from December 2012.  Those bastards were $200 bucks because my insurance did not cover them.  So, I guess it's good that they'll get some use?

My thyroid medication has been making me feel unsettled.  As I told Witch Doctor it's just short of nauseous.  Out of an abundance of precaution, I am taking a blood test tomorrow.  We will check HCG and T-whatever levels (all the stuff connected to my beloved, but under active thyroid).

Side note: Maybe my stomach has been unsettled because I'm hungry?

I asked Witch Doctor if she wanted to take bets on the HCG results.  She said no.  She is so not fun.  I would have only bet a dollar, since I know from the FIVE home tests I've taken that I am as far from pregnant as one can get.  I know she can spare a dollar, I've given her about $35,000 so far.

Now I wonder if I should just let this lack of a period linger until I 'm ready for stemming.  I didn't ask Witch Doctor because I felt that I'd reached my email quota for the day with her.  There's only so much she and I can take of each other.  I guess I'll ask tomorrow.

Hey Period, I'm Over Here!

I am on Cycle Day 37.  Don't get excited.  I am still NOT pregnant.  I know this because I've taken FOUR pregnancy tests.  Yes, they were all negative.  Normally, when I take a test my period finds me quickly.  This time around, the B*tch is still missing or lost or something.

I'm ready to order a lighted billboard to show Mrs. Period where to find me.  She's obviously confused somewhere.  WTF?

Let's all entertain ourselves with my latest exchange with Witch Doctor (WD).

Me:  "In case you're wondering, my period still has not found me.  I blame the weather."

WD:  "Could very much be the weather.  Or still a late ovulation and pregnancy (sorry to be so annoying about that)  omg, I must be so annoying!"

WELLLLLL..... No words have ever been more true:-) At least she knows she's annoying.  I can't get too mad because I'm sure I'm annoying the hell out of her too.  This is one of the reasons I keep giving her my money.  When I'm panicked, she finds time to personally respond to even the most ridiculous of my emails. 

So here's the thing.  I think Mrs. Period will find her way home by Monday.  I went from being consistently crampy to the point where I thought she was coming, to feeling pretty calm in the uterus.  That's the normal sign that she's on the way.  As I've mentioned in my last two posts, this is the longest time she's ever stayed away during a natural cycle.  Again, I've never had a cycle longer than 29/30 days in the last three years for sure.

I am still hoping for some sort of March egg retrieval.

Wanted: My Damn Period

This is officially the longest non-medication-assisted cycle of my life, or at least since I've been keeping record of it.  I really don't think I've ever had one more than 29/30 days.  Today, I am on cycle day 34.  I took a pregnancy test Saturday and Sunday.  As expected, they were negative.

I have been researching to see why this is happening.  The best that I can come up with is late ovulation, which I've had before, but never THIS late.  I think it was so late because I had a nasty cold the week I was supposed to ovulate.  I was so sick that I had to take off two days of work.  I really should have taken off three days.  I hadn't been that sick since 2005.   Dr. Google says flu and or a bad colds can throw off your cycle.  Since I have some period symptoms like very, very mild cramps, I know that my period is coming.  I just hate this waiting.  Normally, she pops up between days 24 and 27.  Before my last transfer, she was consistently a 27-day type chick for three months.

I am so nervous because I fear this late cycle could be a signal of a change or something.  Although, I never get pregnant my body seems to always do what it's supposed to do, except get pregnant.  So I'm afraid something is off.  Paranoid?  Why yes I am.

Soooo sidenote:  While doing laundry yesterday, I found out where my husband has been hiding all of the expensive pregnancy tests (the ones that you don't have to pee in a cup, then dip the stick int he cup).  I thought I had some left, but when I searched for them during my last transfer, I couldn't find them.  LOL!  Homeboy was hiding them in his bottom drawer.  He is so cute.  LOL!

The Suckers Are Back!

"I'll become an expert at butt massages by the end of the day."

That is the quote of the day from my beloved husband.  We went back to the Witch Doctor today.  I know. I know.  To borrow part of an expression from "Brokeback Mountain", I just can't quit her.

We have decided to go for a fresh IVF in the fantastic month of March.  At the moment, my period is one day late.  I was kind of mad about that, until I spoke with Witch Doctor.  The timing could work out so that I don't have to take Birth Control pills this time.  Hooray!

We didn't really want to talk about the previous cycle because I'm pretty sure we both believe my failure to take my thyroid meds torpedoed that situation.  Anyways, I've been popping those pills since the big fat negative.  Witch Doctor drew my blood to test the TSH levels again.  We are hoping that they are in the 2 range so I don't have to change medication.

It's been weeks since my last progesterone shot and I still have some surface butt soreness.  I asked Witch Doctor about it and she told me that I may need to go to a masseuse to request a butt massage.  Hubby was more than happy to volunteer his free services.  He later dropped that gem of a quote above on me: "I'll become an expert at butt massages by the end of the day."  But I digress...

Even though I still think PGS/PGD is a waste of thousands of dollars since chromosomally normal embryos laugh at my uterus and vanish, we will pay for it again.  However, Witch Doctor didn't press for it because she said I've proven that I can make normal blastocysts.  What she didn't mention was I've also proven that really doesn't matter because my four beautiful "blastos" didn't stand a chance.

The Hubs and I are excited.  We didn't get into the details of the protocol because we are waiting for my period to start, but I think I'll probably have the same cocktail: a little Menopaur and Bravelle, mixed with a shot of Human Growth Hormone.

Don't let my excitement fool you though.  I'm still very concerned.  If this one doesn't work, we will have only one more shot on this particular insurance.  Lucky for me, I'm not married to this job, although I am thankful for it.  Soooo, maybe I'll find another place with a new round of IVF coverage waiting for me?  I guess I shouldn't get too far ahead of myself.

It's so funny that after my last retrieval, I told my husband to think about us donating our remaining embryos to help someone else. LOL!  I needed every one of those damn things.  This time I'm just hoping to get a good number of healthy eggs that fertilize.  Here's to hoping one of them will stick and grow, right?


WALLY AND ROXIE UPDATE:

My dogs are absolutely crazy.  Roxie loves Wally:-)  Our puppy is four months old.  He has all of his shots and he'll begin obedience classes this Sunday (thank the Lord).  He is super energetic and curious.  I can't keep up with him, which is a good thing.  I think I've mentioned before that I lost five pounds after getting him.  Roxie is getting skinny too:-)  The Hubby and I enjoy working together to find ways to entertain him.  I think Wally is the reason I didn't gain weight during the last transfer.  Now, if the trend continues for the next retrieval, I'll love that dog forever.

I would include a new picture of my pack, but I don't really have one that I like.  They are always moving fast and my camera moves slow:-(

Is This Normal?

I woke up on the first day of the New Year excited.  My cycle started.  I felt normal.  To me, it was a new beginning.  I was feeling so good that I even wished the Witch Doctor happy New Year, as I notified her via email that my period had finally come.  Yesss!!

The Hubs and I went to breakfast, chatted, laughed, then BOOM!  I got the mother of all cramps.  OMG.  I have had some bad ones in the past, but these were pretty strong.  And guess what?  We only had one freaking advil pill in the house.  OMG.  I was pacing back and forth.  My uterus was angry and she spread her disgust to my digestive system.  Let's just say I had stuff coming out from both ends.  This was NO BUENO.  Hubby rushed to store to get more advil, pick up a heating pad and get me some real pads.  The body was not happy with my choice of tampons.

And speaking of feminine products, there are so many options.  My Husband called me frantically trying to figure out which package would be best.  He's such an awesome man.  My Dad refused to buy pads for me, as a teen when he went grocery shopping.  So this beautiful man of mine having the guts to pick them up in my time of crisis, is just wonderful.

Once again I digress.

I emailed Witch Doctor to update her on my situation.  I was like, "Is this normal?"  She said, "Yes!"  What?  She said since there was a "pregnancy" things would be rough. Ugh! Then she called and wanted me to describe the pain.  I won't lie.  I am not good at that at all.  I said something like, "It hurts straight across the middle and down to my feet."

She told me to keep her posted because she wanted to make sure that she didn't miss the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy.  I was thinking.....NO WAY! She is obviously crazy.  Anyway, she told me to get day three blood work, along with another beta.

Two days later, I got the job done, which probably surprised her since I'd been rebelling lately.  Get this: my beta was a 10.  Yes. A TEN!  Just like before.  So now I have to go back again on Monday to test and make sure this particular ten is the result of the numbers going down.

Strangely, I am not upset or nervous.  I was for a second and threatened to spend my weekend on Google, but Witch Doctor says she is Dr. Google and has all of my answers.  I was thinking--- oh no she didn't!  I'm the real Dr. Google.

Anyway, I really don't think anything is wrong.  I think the numbers are going down.  The Husband and I are just trying to understand our insurance a little better.  We think it counts an FET as a full IVF, so we won't be wasting insurance on an FET for that solo embryo, as we are only covered for three cycles.  (Did I mention my butt is still sore from those progesterone shots?  That stuff is the devil!)

I know everyday my plan for the future changes, but at the moment we're pretty content with the idea of stemming for eggs in March.  I'm back on thyroid medicine.  Ugh!  Apparently, a TSH of 5 isn't a good sign whether you're seeking infertility treatment or not.  It's on the cusp of high.

I feel good better now, but I really think the meds did a number on me this time.  I mean, I'm still not entirely excited about my job, but I can HANDLE the frustration the way I'm used to dealing with stuff.  Last month while I was pumped full of estrogen and progesterone, I was ready to quit and move to a homeless shelter.  I had no fight left.  Ridiculous!

I'm dumping the shrink too.  I went through all of this and didn't need or want to talk to her.  I'm tired of talking to her about it.  I definitely needed her when I started, but I don't think it's necessary now.  Plus, she's a really strong defender of the Witch Doctor.  It's hard to vent my frustrations to someone who is apparently her friend.  I knew they were colleagues, as Witch Doctor gave me her name, but I didn't know they were Besties.  Ugh!  But I don't know.  Next week, I might lose my little mind again.  So, we'll see.

Is It Over Yet?

Is 2013 over yet?  No?  Dang.

Anyway, I spent the weekend going from sad, to angry, to FURIOUS.  My poor husband was sick with a cold, and I took it all out on his ailing behind.  *sigh*  I am a sorry excuse for a wife, right?

I feel awful for the way I treated him.  I'll do better next time.  I promise.

My period still hasn't started yet.  It only took three days to start, after the last failure.  It looks like this time, it will take at least five days.  Witch Doctor told me to come back for another HCG to make sure the numbers are dropping, but I decided to be MATURE and IGNORE her (I hope you felt the sarcasm in that statement).  I'll go if my cycle doesn't start by day six.  If there's one thing my body is really good at, it's NOT being pregnant.  I don't want to start doubting its abilities now.

Some people may question that decision and my decision not to take drugs an extra day.  I feel like I should kind of explain why.  There's a story in the Bay Area.  A 13-year-old girl went in for tonsil surgery, and later died from complications.  She's brain dead.  Her parents won't accept it.  They have forced the hospital to keep her on a breathing tub.  My heart breaks for them.  I feel so passionately about them that when people say mean things about them, I defend them like they're my family.  I can't imagine their pain.  So when Witch Doctor told me my numbers weren't meeting standards, I knew that for my own mental health, I had to immediately let go.  I won't even write chemical pregnancy on my timeline.  It was never a pregnancy.  It's a failed attempt.

So back to me and the wait for my period: I figure since my butt is still lumpy from those progesterone shots, and (TMI WARNING) I still leak small globs of the progesterone gel, my body is still coming down off the hormones.  I took considerably more drugs for this FET than the last one.

I can honestly say the emotional pain is not nearly as bad this time, which scares me a little.  It hurt.  There's no denying that.  But the day isn't colored black like before.  The day sucks, but it's not black.  I will call that a small victory.  I'm still bitter, but I think that's normal (?).

That's all from me.  Happy New Year to all.

Oh Wait, don't pay for PGS.  It's not worth it.  I've flushed four chromosomally normal embryos down the toilet.  #awesome.

10

Today my Beta was a 10.  Hooray for failure...again.  Guys, this hurt so bad.  I balled my eyes out in a parking lot next to my job.  I really wish Witch Doctor would have just called it a failure on Monday.  At least I would have had two days off to recover.  Instead, I spent Christmas angry.  Now, I'm at work ashy-faced because I can't stop crying.

I told Witch Doctor that we didn't want to transfer the last embryo.  I told her we'd go straight for the next egg retrieval.   It's mainly because I hate those progesterone shots.  But I'm pretty sure it's not the right move.  I don't know.  I really need a new doctor or something.

Anyway she said my TSH levels were a 5.5.  I guess I should have stayed on those meds, huh?  I'm still not sure about that situation.

She tried to give me that false hope again saying I could stay on the meds another night and maybe something miraculous would happen.  While I still believe in God, I'm not in the business of believing in petty miracles.  A miracle to save my Mom?  Yes.  I'm all game.  A miracle to save a weak "pregnancy?" No thank you.

So I guess I get to add the ol' Chemical to my timeline.  Never had that before.  The funny part is that I've still never seen a real positive home test, except for the time after my IUI.  I thought maybe home tests just didn't work for me, so I peed on one when I knew I still had HCG from the trigger in my system.  It was amazing to see that positive.  But I digress....

My poor husband isn't taking this so well, and I'm of absolutely no help to him. I'm too angry to offer any comfort.

You chicks who keep doing this...I don't know if anyone has told you, but you're amazing. AMAZING.  People don't even know.

So...anyone want to take bets on when my period will start.  I'd appreciate anything past a week from now and preferably on a Saturday.

Thanks, Google

I spent a little time today googling what a Beta of 5 means.  Uhm...it's a negative.  I'm not pregnant.  It's not even a maybe.  I think it was a little unfair of Witch Doctor to leave me with that little string of hope.  Perhaps she didn't want to ruin Christmas for me.  But I was okay with a negative, until she carefully crafted that lie over the phone of a positive.

Something about the way she said it made me ask for the actual number.  I could tell she was hiding something.  I really think she is hoping a miracle will happen by Thursday, but it won't.  It's not right to do this to people, especially when I was open to acceptance.  I took that negative home test in stride.  I was going to be ok.  Now, I just want to cry, but I can't.  I have house guests.  I have to pretend I'm ok, which never works out well for me.  Anyways...

These progesterone shots hurt and I really don't want to take them, if there's no need. Plus, that's wasting precious, expensive medicine.  I'll need those meds for FET #3.

I really really hate 2013.