or at least give you ultrasounds.
Back to the obs yesterday, back with cramping and bleeding and all the fun stuff. Bean's heartbeat had slowed down a bit and with the cramping etc, off to emergency ultrasound land. They couldn't find the bleeding, and the heartbeat had picked up again by the time I got there, so they figured everything was fine. It was a beautiful weekend here, and we were out and about most of it, so they figure I just overdid it with the exercise after the mostly bed-rest of the last few months. See, i knew exercise was a bad thing. Bean is measuring a bit small, more than a week behind, so waiting for the obs to ring to let me know that that's ok. Spot the wonder boy and I are both six foot or so, so unlikely that we are having a genetically small person. Spot thinks that I need to stop worrying about percentiles and is already planning on how he can help disguise report cards from me when they come home from pre-school with a C. Currently, the options include paper planes :)
Cleaned out my wardrobe on the weekend to make room for the new fat clothes (still not using the other word). I am surprised that I got fat so early, didn't expect that (even with the obsessive need to eat hot potato every day) but between two full stim cycles this year, plus mild OHSS I don't think I can blame it all on my appalling pregnancy eating habits, the plan was to get appalling morning sickness, now I have to do something that actually involves diet and exercise (once exercise goes off the banned list again). Go figure.
Apart from that - nothing to see here. Which is kind of nice, all in all.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Fathers day ...
Its been Father's day here, which has been a little, well, odd. Let me start by saying I am not the Hallmark celebration type, particularly when it comes to parental days. I am all for honouring my parents, but not for a card with a schmaltzy message. Parental units days come with a whole bunch of iss-ews for me at the best of times and lately they have just been one more reminder that I was barren. You know, the one where the universe slaps you in the face and says "Gee, everyone is out doing family things WHICH YOU WILL NEVER GET TO PARTICIPATE IN - HAhAAAA. Have a nice day".
Like I said, my mother died when I was four, and my father, much as I adore him, is not really a manly man, more a dancing queen. Consequently, when I was little, parental unit days were divided into "look who doesn't have a mother day (its a fun game that all the family can play)" and "why doesn't anyone ever get me a powertool (ummm, cos you would chop your own leg off and why have you decided to suddenly need a chainsaw)". Until the hippy primary school stepped in and made everyone celebrate Primary Carer and Other Parent day. Oh, I kid you not. Everyone had to make a primary carer card and create a non-gender specific present. Hell, weren't the seventies fun, lets not do that again. Don't even talk to me about feminist nursery rhymes, scarred for life, I tells you, scarred for life.
This does have a point, this interesting ramble down memory lane, the point being, that Hallmark card days are never good for the 90% of society that doesn't fit into the nuclear family, the single parents, hell, the single (although they have their own special circle of hell, called Valentines day) the infertile, the families who are separated through distance or choice, those who have lost their children to death or are fighting disease. Generally, its crap.
Until this year, and Spot the Wonder Boy. If anyone ever wonders why I refer to my dear boy as Spot, try seeing him when he is excited. He bounces, he runs circles, he makes lots of noise. It really is apt, and it was hysterically funny on Sunday when he got a couple of messages from friends saying "happy father's day". We had already phoned all our fathers (he has a choice of two - see Hallmark works for that - NOT), and then texts starting coming for him. I'm not sure, but I think it was the first time that he thought of himself as a father in the present tense - that Bean is here now and doesn't seem to show any inclination to leave yet. Much weeping ensued, but the joy was contagious. Excited puppies usually are, and I think that I actually got excited for a brief moment before the impending sense of doom returned to the background. Still, it was nice to be excited. So, Happy Fathers Day to everyone, and enjoy your families.
Like I said, my mother died when I was four, and my father, much as I adore him, is not really a manly man, more a dancing queen. Consequently, when I was little, parental unit days were divided into "look who doesn't have a mother day (its a fun game that all the family can play)" and "why doesn't anyone ever get me a powertool (ummm, cos you would chop your own leg off and why have you decided to suddenly need a chainsaw)". Until the hippy primary school stepped in and made everyone celebrate Primary Carer and Other Parent day. Oh, I kid you not. Everyone had to make a primary carer card and create a non-gender specific present. Hell, weren't the seventies fun, lets not do that again. Don't even talk to me about feminist nursery rhymes, scarred for life, I tells you, scarred for life.
This does have a point, this interesting ramble down memory lane, the point being, that Hallmark card days are never good for the 90% of society that doesn't fit into the nuclear family, the single parents, hell, the single (although they have their own special circle of hell, called Valentines day) the infertile, the families who are separated through distance or choice, those who have lost their children to death or are fighting disease. Generally, its crap.
Until this year, and Spot the Wonder Boy. If anyone ever wonders why I refer to my dear boy as Spot, try seeing him when he is excited. He bounces, he runs circles, he makes lots of noise. It really is apt, and it was hysterically funny on Sunday when he got a couple of messages from friends saying "happy father's day". We had already phoned all our fathers (he has a choice of two - see Hallmark works for that - NOT), and then texts starting coming for him. I'm not sure, but I think it was the first time that he thought of himself as a father in the present tense - that Bean is here now and doesn't seem to show any inclination to leave yet. Much weeping ensued, but the joy was contagious. Excited puppies usually are, and I think that I actually got excited for a brief moment before the impending sense of doom returned to the background. Still, it was nice to be excited. So, Happy Fathers Day to everyone, and enjoy your families.
Friday, September 4, 2009
thank god its friday ...
and I get to go home and stay there, lie on the couch and not move for a couple of days.
I had to tell my boss yesterday, well, I didn't have to but it seemed rude given that he wanted to pay lots of money to send me to a conference in March in Washington. Which would have been fab, but it turns out I have other plans for March. To say that misogyny is alive and well fairly describes his reaction. He is old skewell when it comes to having women in his team at the best of times, and that's cos we all go and get pregnant on him. I pointed out that I didn't just go and get pregnant but it didn't seem to mollify him. Today, he turns out that he is not talking to me. And no, I don't work in a kindergarten, it just feels like it sometimes.
Things are OK on the family front. My SIL seems to be coping remarkably well, and I am trying desperately to maintain an illusion that this means nothing for my bean.
Still - thank god for the couch.
I had to tell my boss yesterday, well, I didn't have to but it seemed rude given that he wanted to pay lots of money to send me to a conference in March in Washington. Which would have been fab, but it turns out I have other plans for March. To say that misogyny is alive and well fairly describes his reaction. He is old skewell when it comes to having women in his team at the best of times, and that's cos we all go and get pregnant on him. I pointed out that I didn't just go and get pregnant but it didn't seem to mollify him. Today, he turns out that he is not talking to me. And no, I don't work in a kindergarten, it just feels like it sometimes.
Things are OK on the family front. My SIL seems to be coping remarkably well, and I am trying desperately to maintain an illusion that this means nothing for my bean.
Still - thank god for the couch.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
This is not a good day ....
This is a day filled with sadness and not a little guilt. My brother and SIL lost their baby today. You know, the one that I spent an entire post bitching about getting pregnant accidentally, oh, yes that one. At 14 weeks. Which is over the magic marker. I am so sorry for her, and fairly guilt ridden. I am fairly sure that I didn't ever wish her to miscarriage, even in my darkest moments, but I know I have made lots of comments about her journey versus mine - you know the ones: "Not for her the pain of miscarriage, nope, she just pees on a stick and wanders around telling people". Yep, those sorts of ones. Rationally I know this is nothing to do with me (hell, I AM the centre of the world round here) but I can't help feeling that my complete lack of caring has somehow caused this.
Then there is survivor guilt. She was due about a week before me - how much fun is March going to be for her. On the brighter side, I live on the other side of the country from them, so she can at least ignore it as much as possible, but even so, that's gotta suck, and I am so sorry for them. Plus, as far as I know, this is the first time that this has happened to them - they have perfect conceptions, followed by perfect pregnancies, followed by perfect births. I know that sounds bitchy and I wish I could rephrase it but even in their grief that's what it feels like on this side of the IF fence. Now they are in my land, without the passport, and I remember so clearly the pain of the first. Not that it ever gets easier, but it does get different, well, at least it did for me. I wish that there was something I could do to make this better for them, but apart from being here, there isn't. God, if there was, then I would have figured it out by now. So, I sit here feeling useless and guilty. Fabulous combination by the way.
On top of that, today is the anniversary of the death of my mother. This is not a big deal for me - it happened 32 years ago, when I was 4 but it is a very big deal for my father. He has never gotten over it, and it's still a day of sadness and pain for him. Losing his grandchild does not make this day a happier one.
The other overwhelming thought here, of course, is please not me, please not me. Magic marker's don't seem to be the magic talisman that I thought they were. If the accidental baby can die, then what does that mean for my bean. Again, rationally, I know absolutely nothing. But we are in pregnancy land here, it has no rationality, just a morass of fear and pain and joy and a rollercoaster of emotional stuff. And that's without the hormones. None of this is helped by the fact that at the obs visit yesterday, he couldn't find the heartbeat on the Doppler machine. He played around for a few minutes, watched my blood pressure explode and then sent me off for an ultrasound where bean tickered away happily and waved. All good in the end, but not in the middle bits.
I have no answers, I just want to crawl into bed and feel sorry. For myself, for my family, for all the horrible things I said in hindsight, for everything.
Then there is survivor guilt. She was due about a week before me - how much fun is March going to be for her. On the brighter side, I live on the other side of the country from them, so she can at least ignore it as much as possible, but even so, that's gotta suck, and I am so sorry for them. Plus, as far as I know, this is the first time that this has happened to them - they have perfect conceptions, followed by perfect pregnancies, followed by perfect births. I know that sounds bitchy and I wish I could rephrase it but even in their grief that's what it feels like on this side of the IF fence. Now they are in my land, without the passport, and I remember so clearly the pain of the first. Not that it ever gets easier, but it does get different, well, at least it did for me. I wish that there was something I could do to make this better for them, but apart from being here, there isn't. God, if there was, then I would have figured it out by now. So, I sit here feeling useless and guilty. Fabulous combination by the way.
On top of that, today is the anniversary of the death of my mother. This is not a big deal for me - it happened 32 years ago, when I was 4 but it is a very big deal for my father. He has never gotten over it, and it's still a day of sadness and pain for him. Losing his grandchild does not make this day a happier one.
The other overwhelming thought here, of course, is please not me, please not me. Magic marker's don't seem to be the magic talisman that I thought they were. If the accidental baby can die, then what does that mean for my bean. Again, rationally, I know absolutely nothing. But we are in pregnancy land here, it has no rationality, just a morass of fear and pain and joy and a rollercoaster of emotional stuff. And that's without the hormones. None of this is helped by the fact that at the obs visit yesterday, he couldn't find the heartbeat on the Doppler machine. He played around for a few minutes, watched my blood pressure explode and then sent me off for an ultrasound where bean tickered away happily and waved. All good in the end, but not in the middle bits.
I have no answers, I just want to crawl into bed and feel sorry. For myself, for my family, for all the horrible things I said in hindsight, for everything.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Going public ...
So we passed - well, Bean passed, and I came along for the ride. Nuchal fold testing this morning, and the radiographer has just rung with the news that bean is 1:3423. Given that my age related risk is 1:270, I think that we can call that a pass.
The radiographer is the same one that has done all my scans over the last 6 weeks and she made me a "going away present"; she had done a montage of all the scan of the last few weeks. Obviously these people don't remember pregnancy hormones when they do these sorts of things - tears ensued. Is it bad form to hug your radiographer _ I can never tell.
I will miss some of these people as this journey continues - the fertility nurses, the radiographer, the receptionists who know I am insane and put me through anyway. Finally something that non-ivfers can envy, I have developed amazing relationships with these people and that is something that normal people who only have a scan a couple of times or poas will never get to know. So pththththtfffftt to them. OK, I'm not sure it's worth it, but they have made an awful journey bearable at times, and I take my hats off to them.
Since Bean has passed the test, and doesn't need huge needles stuck into them for the fun of it, Spot the wonderboy is trying to work out the most ingenious way of telling everyone. That was our deal, he wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone who I knew, outside his family until 12 weeks was up. I am fairly sure that he has already taken up the full page ad option in the local paper and is working out some discrete way to change his facebook status. I, on the other hand, still feel that it is tempting fate to say the words out loud, let alone discuss it publically with anyone. I am hoping that changes before, say, the child is in primary school, otherwise that could get a bit embarrassing. Until then, I am just getting fat.
Which I am, although I am not sure that has much to do with Bean, and more to do with the excessive amounts of cheese on toast that I seem to be consuming. A meal is not a meal unless it involves melted cheese and some form of hot bread. I am blaming the bean - needs calcium and protein etc, but really, I just like cheese on toast a lot.
The radiographer is the same one that has done all my scans over the last 6 weeks and she made me a "going away present"; she had done a montage of all the scan of the last few weeks. Obviously these people don't remember pregnancy hormones when they do these sorts of things - tears ensued. Is it bad form to hug your radiographer _ I can never tell.
I will miss some of these people as this journey continues - the fertility nurses, the radiographer, the receptionists who know I am insane and put me through anyway. Finally something that non-ivfers can envy, I have developed amazing relationships with these people and that is something that normal people who only have a scan a couple of times or poas will never get to know. So pththththtfffftt to them. OK, I'm not sure it's worth it, but they have made an awful journey bearable at times, and I take my hats off to them.
Since Bean has passed the test, and doesn't need huge needles stuck into them for the fun of it, Spot the wonderboy is trying to work out the most ingenious way of telling everyone. That was our deal, he wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone who I knew, outside his family until 12 weeks was up. I am fairly sure that he has already taken up the full page ad option in the local paper and is working out some discrete way to change his facebook status. I, on the other hand, still feel that it is tempting fate to say the words out loud, let alone discuss it publically with anyone. I am hoping that changes before, say, the child is in primary school, otherwise that could get a bit embarrassing. Until then, I am just getting fat.
Which I am, although I am not sure that has much to do with Bean, and more to do with the excessive amounts of cheese on toast that I seem to be consuming. A meal is not a meal unless it involves melted cheese and some form of hot bread. I am blaming the bean - needs calcium and protein etc, but really, I just like cheese on toast a lot.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
days pass ...
All is good - bleeding has settled, cramps have not, but I am living with them.
Ultrasound in a couple of days - not that that's a focus or anything. We are trying to work out acceptable stats, you know, when the amnio becomes necessary as opposed to just life-threatening for the bean. Dr Google comes in handy yet again. Spot the wonder boy barely participates in the conversation - its completely unnecessary from his point of view, as everything is fine, and will be fine. I envy his optimism, and his happiness in the bean.
Over the last couple of days, he has started reading us a story before bedtime - good so bean can learn his voice, good for language development (yes, I know its 12 weeks old - did someone call for a helicopter parent). Not so good for the dislexic who has never read children's stories before. He is horrified, completely appalled. He may even venture into a bookstore to find something with less blood and gore. I pointed out its moralistic blood and gore, and yet the horror remains. Wait until he gets to the Little Goose Girl!!
Apart from that, we wait, magic marker not withstanding, all is good.
Ultrasound in a couple of days - not that that's a focus or anything. We are trying to work out acceptable stats, you know, when the amnio becomes necessary as opposed to just life-threatening for the bean. Dr Google comes in handy yet again. Spot the wonder boy barely participates in the conversation - its completely unnecessary from his point of view, as everything is fine, and will be fine. I envy his optimism, and his happiness in the bean.
Over the last couple of days, he has started reading us a story before bedtime - good so bean can learn his voice, good for language development (yes, I know its 12 weeks old - did someone call for a helicopter parent). Not so good for the dislexic who has never read children's stories before. He is horrified, completely appalled. He may even venture into a bookstore to find something with less blood and gore. I pointed out its moralistic blood and gore, and yet the horror remains. Wait until he gets to the Little Goose Girl!!
Apart from that, we wait, magic marker not withstanding, all is good.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
its getting closer all the time ...
Surprise ultrasound this morning -its such a great start to the day. The clinic realised that they didn't have measurements for the 12w nuchal fold blood test that goes with next weeks u/s so we got a surprise u/s.
Bean is fine - its caught up to where it is supposed to be - 11 weeks today and it measured exactly 11 weeks. It bounced around for a while and waved, and then got bored, rolled over and refused show us anything other than its back. Well, it was 8 in the morning. I, of all people, can understand the urge to rollover and go back to sleep at that time in the morning. I was right, the heartbeat is slower, but on 179bpm so still fine.
Did I mention it waved.
Maybe this is real after all.
Bean is fine - its caught up to where it is supposed to be - 11 weeks today and it measured exactly 11 weeks. It bounced around for a while and waved, and then got bored, rolled over and refused show us anything other than its back. Well, it was 8 in the morning. I, of all people, can understand the urge to rollover and go back to sleep at that time in the morning. I was right, the heartbeat is slower, but on 179bpm so still fine.
Did I mention it waved.
Maybe this is real after all.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
holes in my feet, and my heart
Acupuncture today, more holes in my feet to stop the bleeding. Hopefully, it seems to be working, its definitely getting less, which is a good thing.
Bad news for friends still stuck on this treadmill yesterday has got me thinking and also feeling guilty. Which I know is stoopid, there is not a finite amount of positive pregnancy tests in the world, but it feels like it sometimes. This game is so fucking unfair, horrible things happen to wonderful people, and its such a crapshoot. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, and only hell can tell why.
For all their talk about medical science, medical wishful thinking seems to be more like it. The only difference, from what I can see, from the current fertility medical specialist to the one a 1000 years ago, is that they have replaced sickles with specula. Its still try and try again, until you reach the holy grail or run out of money, or emotional space, or energy. And it is impossible to understand until you are already a hamster on the treadmill just how exhausting this journey actually is. Of course, once you are on, its too late for you. There is always a new protocol, a new regime, a new drug, a new test just around the corner that will make the difference. And so you use up all your hope, again and again, until all you are is tired and bitter.
That doesn't seem to change, either, once you get the result. Then a whole new set of fears kick in, and I refuse to acknowledge it until, well, not sure when exactly. Probably when I sending the child off for primary school, but who knows. Up until then, acknowledgement just means I will either lose it again (which, incidentally, is a stupid expression, you lose keys, and money behind the back of the couch, but I digress), or just seems to make me feel awful for those still running behind me. I know they don't feel like that, well, I hope that they are not lying, when they tell me they don't. For me, there was a hierarchy of these things, positive pregnancy tests from people who had no trouble all the way through to multiple ivf miscarriers. One end I wanted to drown in my bitter tears, the other I was genuinely happy for. Its sad, that my happiness is dependent on the level of someone's previous pain.
So, for Miss Jo, I am deeply sorry for you, and believe me, will be so over-the-moon happy for you later. Take time, and when you want help crawling out of the abyss, here is my hand.
Bad news for friends still stuck on this treadmill yesterday has got me thinking and also feeling guilty. Which I know is stoopid, there is not a finite amount of positive pregnancy tests in the world, but it feels like it sometimes. This game is so fucking unfair, horrible things happen to wonderful people, and its such a crapshoot. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, and only hell can tell why.
For all their talk about medical science, medical wishful thinking seems to be more like it. The only difference, from what I can see, from the current fertility medical specialist to the one a 1000 years ago, is that they have replaced sickles with specula. Its still try and try again, until you reach the holy grail or run out of money, or emotional space, or energy. And it is impossible to understand until you are already a hamster on the treadmill just how exhausting this journey actually is. Of course, once you are on, its too late for you. There is always a new protocol, a new regime, a new drug, a new test just around the corner that will make the difference. And so you use up all your hope, again and again, until all you are is tired and bitter.
That doesn't seem to change, either, once you get the result. Then a whole new set of fears kick in, and I refuse to acknowledge it until, well, not sure when exactly. Probably when I sending the child off for primary school, but who knows. Up until then, acknowledgement just means I will either lose it again (which, incidentally, is a stupid expression, you lose keys, and money behind the back of the couch, but I digress), or just seems to make me feel awful for those still running behind me. I know they don't feel like that, well, I hope that they are not lying, when they tell me they don't. For me, there was a hierarchy of these things, positive pregnancy tests from people who had no trouble all the way through to multiple ivf miscarriers. One end I wanted to drown in my bitter tears, the other I was genuinely happy for. Its sad, that my happiness is dependent on the level of someone's previous pain.
So, for Miss Jo, I am deeply sorry for you, and believe me, will be so over-the-moon happy for you later. Take time, and when you want help crawling out of the abyss, here is my hand.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Road testing obs ... they come with ultrasounds
First visit to the first of the shortlisted obs today.
I like him, he was calm and patient and seemed to understand both my history and my Dr google fetish. He was curiously upbeat about everything, and had an ultrasound machine to show me that Bean is fine. He didn't measure or anything crazy like that, but the little thing looked bigger than last week, which helps. In a small moment of paranoia, the heartbeat looked slower, but Spot the Wonderboy didn't see that, and suggested that I was merely insane.
He gave me all his numbers and said "I feel confident telling you to call me at 3 in the morning, cos I am sure you wont need to, but I really don't mind if you do". Plus, he said that I can pop in for an ultrasound anytime I like (he even has midwife receptionists who can do them if he is around) and all in all, seems lovely.
This was the obs from the shortlist who is supposed to be obsessive-compulsive and likely to do every lovely reassuring test known to mankind. The other one, who I see next week, is supposed to be more able to deal with the Dr Google fetish and able to talk me in from the ledge when I find an obscure journal article from the Medical Society of Romania that suggests that 17 women who drank 4 cups of peppermint tea in 1966 all miscarried. But so far Dr Calm is winning, plus I like his receptionist/nurse and if IVF was anything to go by, I will spend far more time ever talking to her than I will to him, notwithstanding the extremely large sums of money that are paid for the privilege of leaving a message.
I also liked the fact that he looked tired, which the nurse said was because he had been up at 4 this morning delivering a baby. I have heard horror stories of obs refusing to get out of bed cos it was too cold (and lets face it, I live in the mountains, during winter, its freaken cold) or cos they couldn't be bothered. So, all in all, a good day.
In unrelated news, still bleeding and the cramps are still vile. I wish I could believe that this is just my version of morning sickness, but cramps and blood are never a good idea, notwithstanding what the witches tell you. I am getting closer to that magic marker - the twelve weeks, and I would have thought that the feelings of impending doom would be falling away slightly, but there is just so much that can go wrong in the next couple of weeks. This is when chromosomal deficiencies come in (cos my gene's are so fucking fantastic), plus the placenta has to kick in, plus well, the list is pretty endless. On the bright side, Dr Calm felt that there was no reason to discontinue the prednislone until after the 12 weeks, he said "There is no point taking away a safety net if it is just going to make you worry and stress you and the baby out". Take that FS with your blase "oh, you can stop that whenever you like, implantation is mostly over by now". Mostly, I ask you, Mostly?????
Oh, and Bean went to its first rock concert. P!nk, no less, so slightly cool. I stayed in bed all weekend, and rested and then went out. Of the house. For an evening!!! Baby steps, but I had bought the tickets ages ago in my "Fuck It All" phase, the one where since it was apparently obvious I was never going get pregnant, I decided that I would become one of those frantically selfish women that I hear are choosing not to have children cos it would destroy their thighs. I have failed to find any yet, but my SIL keeps assuring me that they exist. Since I couldn't have a baby, I would have lots of expensive wine, regular manicures, $200 haircuts (which did look fabulous), travel whenever I liked, and generally have a great time. Not, as my SIL decided, focus on being the best Aunt I could be. What I wouldn't do was avoid planning for events on the grounds that "we might be pregnant".
So there is a raft of social activities coming up, P!nk being the first, and she rocked. It was awesome and there was gushing. Although, I did have to nap, and there was some slight concern about the fact that it would be 10.30 by the time we got home, which incidentally, is nothing to do with the Bean and everything to do with the fact that I am just old now!! She danced, she sang, she did trapeze acts, what more do you want! I hope Bean enjoyed it, particularly now that the u/s confirmed that it didn't seem to hurt it in anyway. Maybe it was wriggling along?
I like him, he was calm and patient and seemed to understand both my history and my Dr google fetish. He was curiously upbeat about everything, and had an ultrasound machine to show me that Bean is fine. He didn't measure or anything crazy like that, but the little thing looked bigger than last week, which helps. In a small moment of paranoia, the heartbeat looked slower, but Spot the Wonderboy didn't see that, and suggested that I was merely insane.
He gave me all his numbers and said "I feel confident telling you to call me at 3 in the morning, cos I am sure you wont need to, but I really don't mind if you do". Plus, he said that I can pop in for an ultrasound anytime I like (he even has midwife receptionists who can do them if he is around) and all in all, seems lovely.
This was the obs from the shortlist who is supposed to be obsessive-compulsive and likely to do every lovely reassuring test known to mankind. The other one, who I see next week, is supposed to be more able to deal with the Dr Google fetish and able to talk me in from the ledge when I find an obscure journal article from the Medical Society of Romania that suggests that 17 women who drank 4 cups of peppermint tea in 1966 all miscarried. But so far Dr Calm is winning, plus I like his receptionist/nurse and if IVF was anything to go by, I will spend far more time ever talking to her than I will to him, notwithstanding the extremely large sums of money that are paid for the privilege of leaving a message.
I also liked the fact that he looked tired, which the nurse said was because he had been up at 4 this morning delivering a baby. I have heard horror stories of obs refusing to get out of bed cos it was too cold (and lets face it, I live in the mountains, during winter, its freaken cold) or cos they couldn't be bothered. So, all in all, a good day.
In unrelated news, still bleeding and the cramps are still vile. I wish I could believe that this is just my version of morning sickness, but cramps and blood are never a good idea, notwithstanding what the witches tell you. I am getting closer to that magic marker - the twelve weeks, and I would have thought that the feelings of impending doom would be falling away slightly, but there is just so much that can go wrong in the next couple of weeks. This is when chromosomal deficiencies come in (cos my gene's are so fucking fantastic), plus the placenta has to kick in, plus well, the list is pretty endless. On the bright side, Dr Calm felt that there was no reason to discontinue the prednislone until after the 12 weeks, he said "There is no point taking away a safety net if it is just going to make you worry and stress you and the baby out". Take that FS with your blase "oh, you can stop that whenever you like, implantation is mostly over by now". Mostly, I ask you, Mostly?????
Oh, and Bean went to its first rock concert. P!nk, no less, so slightly cool. I stayed in bed all weekend, and rested and then went out. Of the house. For an evening!!! Baby steps, but I had bought the tickets ages ago in my "Fuck It All" phase, the one where since it was apparently obvious I was never going get pregnant, I decided that I would become one of those frantically selfish women that I hear are choosing not to have children cos it would destroy their thighs. I have failed to find any yet, but my SIL keeps assuring me that they exist. Since I couldn't have a baby, I would have lots of expensive wine, regular manicures, $200 haircuts (which did look fabulous), travel whenever I liked, and generally have a great time. Not, as my SIL decided, focus on being the best Aunt I could be. What I wouldn't do was avoid planning for events on the grounds that "we might be pregnant".
So there is a raft of social activities coming up, P!nk being the first, and she rocked. It was awesome and there was gushing. Although, I did have to nap, and there was some slight concern about the fact that it would be 10.30 by the time we got home, which incidentally, is nothing to do with the Bean and everything to do with the fact that I am just old now!! She danced, she sang, she did trapeze acts, what more do you want! I hope Bean enjoyed it, particularly now that the u/s confirmed that it didn't seem to hurt it in anyway. Maybe it was wriggling along?
Saturday, August 15, 2009
breasts, boobs, norks, tits .. oh and bleeding.
I was going to write something terribly amusing about my trip for new bra's yesterday, but then I started bleeding again, which tempered the amusement somewhat.
But where was I, yes, yesterday it finally became apparently obvious (its been sneaking up ok) that the ongoing battle with my breasts was well and truly lost. Between ivf and its outcome, there is no room left to pretend - these things have got huge!!!!
I was hoping I could hold out until maternity bras, but Friday night lying on the couch (its all a massive go-go here in our lives) and still falling out of my top made the trip to the shops inevitable.
So there we were, Spot the wonder boy, the fantastically pert 12 year old, and my breasts. Little miss pert suggested that maternity bras were not the way to go yet (finally someone as paranoid as me!!) and that I just buy a couple in a larger size to get me through until underwire was no longer a good idea. Now, just let me preface this with I like underwire - underwire has been my friend for many a year, underwire is a perfect way to start the day as far as I am concerned. I used to be a 12C, there used to be options, not anymore. Now, as a 14DD, a bra is no longer something lacy to fling around the room with abandon, it is a feat of structural engineering that defies the laws of physics (its life, Jim, but not as we know it). There was some debate about whether I wanted full coverage or merely balcony, but and I quote (before I had to go and have a bex and a nice lie down) "Since your nipples are obviously affected, full coverage might be the way to go". Yes, yes, Fuck off Miss Perky, one day gravity will happen to you and .... oh whatever, there was no come back, she was the one with the tape measure and I'm standing there half naked. Just one more reminder that we are on our way here.
Spot finds the whole full coverage disturbing, finally there was going to be something in this for him - huge breasts to at least look at. He's a simple soul.
In other news, yes, started bleeding again, well, spotting anyway. How did I know this would happen, well, its the weekend for starters, and I have no cup-cakes. At least I have the test drive of the the obs on Tuesday - that should come with an ultrasound, or two.
But where was I, yes, yesterday it finally became apparently obvious (its been sneaking up ok) that the ongoing battle with my breasts was well and truly lost. Between ivf and its outcome, there is no room left to pretend - these things have got huge!!!!
I was hoping I could hold out until maternity bras, but Friday night lying on the couch (its all a massive go-go here in our lives) and still falling out of my top made the trip to the shops inevitable.
So there we were, Spot the wonder boy, the fantastically pert 12 year old, and my breasts. Little miss pert suggested that maternity bras were not the way to go yet (finally someone as paranoid as me!!) and that I just buy a couple in a larger size to get me through until underwire was no longer a good idea. Now, just let me preface this with I like underwire - underwire has been my friend for many a year, underwire is a perfect way to start the day as far as I am concerned. I used to be a 12C, there used to be options, not anymore. Now, as a 14DD, a bra is no longer something lacy to fling around the room with abandon, it is a feat of structural engineering that defies the laws of physics (its life, Jim, but not as we know it). There was some debate about whether I wanted full coverage or merely balcony, but and I quote (before I had to go and have a bex and a nice lie down) "Since your nipples are obviously affected, full coverage might be the way to go". Yes, yes, Fuck off Miss Perky, one day gravity will happen to you and .... oh whatever, there was no come back, she was the one with the tape measure and I'm standing there half naked. Just one more reminder that we are on our way here.
Spot finds the whole full coverage disturbing, finally there was going to be something in this for him - huge breasts to at least look at. He's a simple soul.
In other news, yes, started bleeding again, well, spotting anyway. How did I know this would happen, well, its the weekend for starters, and I have no cup-cakes. At least I have the test drive of the the obs on Tuesday - that should come with an ultrasound, or two.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Things I forgot to do ..
Go figure.
I had to go this morning and have normal pregnancy screens, you know rubella, Hiv, those sorts of things that normal women do. It turns out that we haven't done those yet, too busy concentrating on hcgs and monitoring screens, and the like, but obs won't see you until you tell them that you don't have any massively communicable diseases that are really going to destroy their weekend.
It was a at a normal collection clinic, not my clinic (who are still holding up to the cutting me off thing). With normal people (well, as normal as you get in pathology clinics at 8 in the morning). You can tell I found this weird - I had to take a number???? And then wait? With normal people.
Although, it was the pathology clinic from my first round of IVF, years ago and the nurse was really pleased to see me back, so that makes up for something I suppose. This is the nurse who kept telling me about her five children, back when I believed that IVF might work and give me a baby, it was a very weird juxtaposition of "tell me more, oh beacon of hope that women actually get pregnant" and "would you just shut up about this, ummm infertile chick here".
So now we have to wait a few days, before we find out if I have anything that is going to cause a VERY unpleasant conversation between me and Spot the wonder boy. "Hey babe, anything you would like to share, hon". Seriously, can you imagine??? That would not go well.
No news on bean front - which I suppose is good news. I tell you, when I organise this evolution thing next time, its going to be soooo much better. A screen somewhere discreet and useful, just over the right hip for example, that tells you just what is going on - think about it, no 2ww crap, just a small sign that comes up with conception details as they occur "Implantation has occured" or "Sorry, you may now drink wine and have a cigarette"; constant updates, terminator style "limb buds developed on track"; "warning, progesterone dropping"; and beeping when an emergency room is required, like the beep that comes when I leave the fridge door open too long. Forget opposable thumbs - that would be useful.
I had to go this morning and have normal pregnancy screens, you know rubella, Hiv, those sorts of things that normal women do. It turns out that we haven't done those yet, too busy concentrating on hcgs and monitoring screens, and the like, but obs won't see you until you tell them that you don't have any massively communicable diseases that are really going to destroy their weekend.
It was a at a normal collection clinic, not my clinic (who are still holding up to the cutting me off thing). With normal people (well, as normal as you get in pathology clinics at 8 in the morning). You can tell I found this weird - I had to take a number???? And then wait? With normal people.
Although, it was the pathology clinic from my first round of IVF, years ago and the nurse was really pleased to see me back, so that makes up for something I suppose. This is the nurse who kept telling me about her five children, back when I believed that IVF might work and give me a baby, it was a very weird juxtaposition of "tell me more, oh beacon of hope that women actually get pregnant" and "would you just shut up about this, ummm infertile chick here".
So now we have to wait a few days, before we find out if I have anything that is going to cause a VERY unpleasant conversation between me and Spot the wonder boy. "Hey babe, anything you would like to share, hon". Seriously, can you imagine??? That would not go well.
No news on bean front - which I suppose is good news. I tell you, when I organise this evolution thing next time, its going to be soooo much better. A screen somewhere discreet and useful, just over the right hip for example, that tells you just what is going on - think about it, no 2ww crap, just a small sign that comes up with conception details as they occur "Implantation has occured" or "Sorry, you may now drink wine and have a cigarette"; constant updates, terminator style "limb buds developed on track"; "warning, progesterone dropping"; and beeping when an emergency room is required, like the beep that comes when I leave the fridge door open too long. Forget opposable thumbs - that would be useful.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
They are cutting me off!!!!!
I can't believe it but its true. They don't think that I really need any more u/s until the 12 week one in a couple of weeks. Everything is fine with bean, its still measuring small but still growing and still has a flicker thundering away. Its 9w 2d today according to the scan, but should be either 9w 5d or 10 w exactly depending on who you believe.
It was definitely wriggling this morning and even looks vaguely human, well, less like a bean sprout anyway.
Even with the cramping - which they blithely explain away as Prog4 - they don't want me back until I have something interesting to show them.
Despite the complete lack of pregnancy symptoms and the fact that I am emotionally unable to recognise that this is actually happening, it appears that my last refuge of insanity has decided that I no longer need that refuge, I am due to go somewhere else now. Hopefully somewhere with an ultrasound. I figure if I road test enough obs then I can keep having u/s for a couple of weeks. I wonder when you actually feel pregnant, or are actually able to acknowledge it, not even publicly, just in my head. Acknowledging it still feels like hubris, and the gods go hard on punishment for that. As long as I know this is not happening, there is a small chance that it might go on.
It was definitely wriggling this morning and even looks vaguely human, well, less like a bean sprout anyway.
Even with the cramping - which they blithely explain away as Prog4 - they don't want me back until I have something interesting to show them.
Despite the complete lack of pregnancy symptoms and the fact that I am emotionally unable to recognise that this is actually happening, it appears that my last refuge of insanity has decided that I no longer need that refuge, I am due to go somewhere else now. Hopefully somewhere with an ultrasound. I figure if I road test enough obs then I can keep having u/s for a couple of weeks. I wonder when you actually feel pregnant, or are actually able to acknowledge it, not even publicly, just in my head. Acknowledging it still feels like hubris, and the gods go hard on punishment for that. As long as I know this is not happening, there is a small chance that it might go on.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Choices, choices, choices
Well, we got through Sunday. It turns out that cupcakes are an excellent way to ward off any bleeding. You might think that sounds odd, but the only thing different about last Sunday was that I ate my own body weight in cup-cakes so logically - that must be it. I am thinking of marketing it as a talisman against all woes.
You would think that this would help, but not so much. Cramps are so much worse today, and insomnia has moved from a minor inconvenience to fatigue that makes my body ache. Still no actual pregnancy symptoms and at 9w 4 d, I am starting to despair. And no, lovely people, that does not make me lucky, or happy, or any positive word. When you tell me your stories of morning sickness so bad that you were hospitalised for 4 weeks, I do not feel like I have avoided something awful, I just get upset that I have missed that experience again (I am fairly resigned to the fact that I am mad!!). I spent an awful long time trying to be pregnant, is it too much to ask to actually feel pregnant.
On a related note, surprisingly enough, my infertility does not define all my political choices, nor my entire life (well, I try not to let it anyway!!). Please let me explain - RU486, the termination pill was made legal in Australia over 3 years ago, to provide options for women seeking a non-surgical termination. Yesterday, I repeat yesterday, the first Dr's licences to actually prescribe the drug were provided to 16 Dr's around Australia. Yesterday afternoon, I received an email and a phone call from a friend who suddenly revealed herself as a Right to Lifer, and was part of an organising party for a rally to protest. When I politely declined, she was flabbergasted (its true, she gasted). "How could my experience not make me value the sanctity of life?" It's funny, when they talk about that, they don't seem to mean the sanctity of the mother's life.
She got cranky when I pointed out that my experience was much more likely to make me value terminations so that I never attended another baby shower again in my life, nor had to endure another pregnancy announcement from someone who accidentally got pregnant, (they tell me that sex has something to do with it??) But seriously, folks, this choice thing is a hard thing, and I am not sure that it is something that our society is always good at. A women's right to choose is just that, and we must learn to really support all choices that women make, not just the ones we get to make, or the ones we like.
The other great debate (screw the GFC, we talk about the important stuff here) that appears to be raging is the homebirth debate. The Federal Government has recently introduced legislation that will prevent women from having midwives at home births therefore rendering homebirth effectively illegal in Australia. Would I consider ever having a homebirth? Hell, no, I am trying to work out how they can put me in a induced coma for the last 3 months, but I do support a women's right to birth her child however she feels like. It would appear however that this is a naive view and I have to come down on one side or the other, be branded and outcast either way.
It goes on:
women who breast feed versus women who bottle feed
women who use cloth nappies versus women who use disposables
co sleepers versus cot sleepers
women who work in their home versus women are employed elsewhere
women who use formal childcare versus women who don't
women who elect ceasarians versus vaginal birth.
At the end of the day, we are all just trying to get by and make the best choices we can, for ourselves, our families, our friends. Its about time we stopped beating each other up over that.
Ps. No, I still won't go to your rally :)
You would think that this would help, but not so much. Cramps are so much worse today, and insomnia has moved from a minor inconvenience to fatigue that makes my body ache. Still no actual pregnancy symptoms and at 9w 4 d, I am starting to despair. And no, lovely people, that does not make me lucky, or happy, or any positive word. When you tell me your stories of morning sickness so bad that you were hospitalised for 4 weeks, I do not feel like I have avoided something awful, I just get upset that I have missed that experience again (I am fairly resigned to the fact that I am mad!!). I spent an awful long time trying to be pregnant, is it too much to ask to actually feel pregnant.
On a related note, surprisingly enough, my infertility does not define all my political choices, nor my entire life (well, I try not to let it anyway!!). Please let me explain - RU486, the termination pill was made legal in Australia over 3 years ago, to provide options for women seeking a non-surgical termination. Yesterday, I repeat yesterday, the first Dr's licences to actually prescribe the drug were provided to 16 Dr's around Australia. Yesterday afternoon, I received an email and a phone call from a friend who suddenly revealed herself as a Right to Lifer, and was part of an organising party for a rally to protest. When I politely declined, she was flabbergasted (its true, she gasted). "How could my experience not make me value the sanctity of life?" It's funny, when they talk about that, they don't seem to mean the sanctity of the mother's life.
She got cranky when I pointed out that my experience was much more likely to make me value terminations so that I never attended another baby shower again in my life, nor had to endure another pregnancy announcement from someone who accidentally got pregnant, (they tell me that sex has something to do with it??) But seriously, folks, this choice thing is a hard thing, and I am not sure that it is something that our society is always good at. A women's right to choose is just that, and we must learn to really support all choices that women make, not just the ones we get to make, or the ones we like.
The other great debate (screw the GFC, we talk about the important stuff here) that appears to be raging is the homebirth debate. The Federal Government has recently introduced legislation that will prevent women from having midwives at home births therefore rendering homebirth effectively illegal in Australia. Would I consider ever having a homebirth? Hell, no, I am trying to work out how they can put me in a induced coma for the last 3 months, but I do support a women's right to birth her child however she feels like. It would appear however that this is a naive view and I have to come down on one side or the other, be branded and outcast either way.
It goes on:
women who breast feed versus women who bottle feed
women who use cloth nappies versus women who use disposables
co sleepers versus cot sleepers
women who work in their home versus women are employed elsewhere
women who use formal childcare versus women who don't
women who elect ceasarians versus vaginal birth.
At the end of the day, we are all just trying to get by and make the best choices we can, for ourselves, our families, our friends. Its about time we stopped beating each other up over that.
Ps. No, I still won't go to your rally :)
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Sunday, bloody Sunday
I hate Sunday's.
I used to like them, lazy days when you had finished all your bits and pieces and could just potter around. Days when you could cook roasts and deserts and treats, and generally be slow.
Now, not so much.
Sunday, for some unknown reason, is when I start bleeding again. Usually Sunday night around 10pm, just as I am going to bed. No quiet Sunday night for me, just bright red blood. Sunday nights are spend in ED or panicing before ringing the clinic on Monday morning. By Thursday or Friday the spotting has stopped and then ... yep, Sunday.
I find myself praying, trying to remember lost words from my childhood, or a patron saint of pregnancies, or a god to whom a sacrificial turtle dove will save my baby. According to my research, I'm not sure that most gods are useful here, not being much good at bargaining, being into that all Karma thing, but I am hoping for a decent if-then exchange. If I promise to sacrifice then ... I can definitely find some people to sacrifice, in case anyone has a god that might be useful.
I'm quietly panicing today. The news from the wires hasn't been good, and I am 9w 2d. Its been 4 days since my last u/s and I keep getting mugged as I meander down memory lane. I have never made it this far before, never got a heartbeat in the right place, never had a bean stick around this long, which of course, just makes Sunday's worse. Is this the bleeding that is going to start the chain of "no longer bleeding, just miscarrying now"?
And its two days to my next u/s ...
I used to like them, lazy days when you had finished all your bits and pieces and could just potter around. Days when you could cook roasts and deserts and treats, and generally be slow.
Now, not so much.
Sunday, for some unknown reason, is when I start bleeding again. Usually Sunday night around 10pm, just as I am going to bed. No quiet Sunday night for me, just bright red blood. Sunday nights are spend in ED or panicing before ringing the clinic on Monday morning. By Thursday or Friday the spotting has stopped and then ... yep, Sunday.
I find myself praying, trying to remember lost words from my childhood, or a patron saint of pregnancies, or a god to whom a sacrificial turtle dove will save my baby. According to my research, I'm not sure that most gods are useful here, not being much good at bargaining, being into that all Karma thing, but I am hoping for a decent if-then exchange. If I promise to sacrifice then ... I can definitely find some people to sacrifice, in case anyone has a god that might be useful.
I'm quietly panicing today. The news from the wires hasn't been good, and I am 9w 2d. Its been 4 days since my last u/s and I keep getting mugged as I meander down memory lane. I have never made it this far before, never got a heartbeat in the right place, never had a bean stick around this long, which of course, just makes Sunday's worse. Is this the bleeding that is going to start the chain of "no longer bleeding, just miscarrying now"?
And its two days to my next u/s ...
Friday, August 7, 2009
Grieving in ivf land
Its a strange place this IVF world. Couple it with the internets and its just downright odd. There are a number of brilliant woman out there who are on this same journey, some in very similar places to me, some who have graduated or found other things in their life. They provide hope, and joy, and understanding, and somewhere that I don't have to explain how crappy this space is, even if they are complete strangers. I read their blogs religiously, and occasionally pass them around as a better example of what I am trying to explain I feel to my lovely friends who mostly don't have a fucking clue.
Sprogblogger and Mo and Will, I am so terribly, terribly sorry for your loss. These much loved babies have died, somewhere between 8-9 weeks, and you should know that all of us out here in webland grieve with you and for you. Its so fucking unfair, and horrible, and I wish I could make it better for you.
Bad news comes in three's right? Now I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hug your loved ones close tonight.
Sprogblogger and Mo and Will, I am so terribly, terribly sorry for your loss. These much loved babies have died, somewhere between 8-9 weeks, and you should know that all of us out here in webland grieve with you and for you. Its so fucking unfair, and horrible, and I wish I could make it better for you.
Bad news comes in three's right? Now I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hug your loved ones close tonight.
Good luck Miss Jo
Everything is crossed for you.
May this be the time that your angel finds it way home.
Lots of love, we are thinking of you and praying for you.
May this be the time that your angel finds it way home.
Lots of love, we are thinking of you and praying for you.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
8w 3 days
I love days that start with an u/s. Regardless of anything else, they are so reassuring for approx 7 hours until I realise that bean has died again.
Bean still not, dead, that is. I am not sure how I will cope when my u/s tap is turned off. Its only a few more weeks and I will be under an Obs. He didn't even want to see me until 20 weeks, but the FS has written him a nice note to tell him that I am clinically insane and can't go that long without making sure that my Bean is OK. She phrased it better, used some nice latin sounding words, and mentioned high-risk, and clotting factors and natural killer cells and immune issues. It would have been shorter and more honest if I had written it
" I am a paranoid neurotic and cannot possible go more than 7 days without some reassurance that my baby has not died".
Still, bean is still small, but still growing (a weeks worth, in a week, fancy that). heartbeat is 173 bpm. Spot is confident that he saw bean yawning - I will concede a vague wriggle, but he is stoked. I am concerned that I am turning Bean into a ruthless extrovert who desperately needs attention "hell, Mama where is my close-up", but in the meantime, the little thing wriggle a bit. This will keep me sane for about 2 days, until reality kicks in.
Part of my problem is that I have NO symptoms - apart from the continual cramping (trust me, hardly reassuring) and the incessant hunger. There is no tiredness, no fatigue, no nausea. I want morning sickness, I want to fall asleep on the couch at 7pm. Hell, I can do that while not pregnant - why not now. I want huge breasts, with massive nipples and veins like road maps. I want to not want to eat everything in sight (why thank you, Mr Prednisolone).
Right, then, not so much. Fine, I understand.
At least I got my u/s this morning. I wonder if I can possibly get one of those machines for home, screw the home doppler machine, a full on u/s machine. Where's a scientologist when you need one.
Bean still not, dead, that is. I am not sure how I will cope when my u/s tap is turned off. Its only a few more weeks and I will be under an Obs. He didn't even want to see me until 20 weeks, but the FS has written him a nice note to tell him that I am clinically insane and can't go that long without making sure that my Bean is OK. She phrased it better, used some nice latin sounding words, and mentioned high-risk, and clotting factors and natural killer cells and immune issues. It would have been shorter and more honest if I had written it
" I am a paranoid neurotic and cannot possible go more than 7 days without some reassurance that my baby has not died".
Still, bean is still small, but still growing (a weeks worth, in a week, fancy that). heartbeat is 173 bpm. Spot is confident that he saw bean yawning - I will concede a vague wriggle, but he is stoked. I am concerned that I am turning Bean into a ruthless extrovert who desperately needs attention "hell, Mama where is my close-up", but in the meantime, the little thing wriggle a bit. This will keep me sane for about 2 days, until reality kicks in.
Part of my problem is that I have NO symptoms - apart from the continual cramping (trust me, hardly reassuring) and the incessant hunger. There is no tiredness, no fatigue, no nausea. I want morning sickness, I want to fall asleep on the couch at 7pm. Hell, I can do that while not pregnant - why not now. I want huge breasts, with massive nipples and veins like road maps. I want to not want to eat everything in sight (why thank you, Mr Prednisolone).
Right, then, not so much. Fine, I understand.
At least I got my u/s this morning. I wonder if I can possibly get one of those machines for home, screw the home doppler machine, a full on u/s machine. Where's a scientologist when you need one.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Congratulations Mr and Mrs
Congratulations indeed.
Surprise email from great friends this morning. On their holiday away, they popped into City Hall and got married. Sort of elopement and honeymoon in one. Its awesome and its so them. I'm so excited for them.
Of course, this has destroyed my birth plan (why, yes, it is all about me). I was due to be their bridesmaid in Feb, almost a month before Bean was due, obviously this meant that I would go into labour two days before.
Now what.
But congratulations anway. Its nice to just feel happy for a change, for something that isn't directly related to me, or my bean.
Surprise email from great friends this morning. On their holiday away, they popped into City Hall and got married. Sort of elopement and honeymoon in one. Its awesome and its so them. I'm so excited for them.
Of course, this has destroyed my birth plan (why, yes, it is all about me). I was due to be their bridesmaid in Feb, almost a month before Bean was due, obviously this meant that I would go into labour two days before.
Now what.
But congratulations anway. Its nice to just feel happy for a change, for something that isn't directly related to me, or my bean.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Zen destroyed in five easy seconds
My Dad phones today to tell me the happy news!!
My SIL has gone and got herself pregnant. Accidently. With her third.
Surely by now, she should know how babies are made. Her baby is due 2 days before mine. So, my poor little bean won't even be the centre of attention. I know she has done this deliberately. OK, so she didn't actually know that I was trying or pregnant. But, thats not the point. She has done this deliberately.
And she is just out there, telling people. Obviously, the concept of miscarriage doesn't occur to her. No, no multiple hcgs for her, no frantic ultrasounds. She poas, and then runs around telling people!!! Dad has known for a while, but avoided telling me until we were sure about Bean, but, no she is just telling people.
Spot finds this totally funny.
So much for zen.
My SIL has gone and got herself pregnant. Accidently. With her third.
Surely by now, she should know how babies are made. Her baby is due 2 days before mine. So, my poor little bean won't even be the centre of attention. I know she has done this deliberately. OK, so she didn't actually know that I was trying or pregnant. But, thats not the point. She has done this deliberately.
And she is just out there, telling people. Obviously, the concept of miscarriage doesn't occur to her. No, no multiple hcgs for her, no frantic ultrasounds. She poas, and then runs around telling people!!! Dad has known for a while, but avoided telling me until we were sure about Bean, but, no she is just telling people.
Spot finds this totally funny.
So much for zen.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Zen finally takes over
There is nothing that I can do to save this baby or not, it will be what will be.
The peace of u/s lasts for about 2 days, then I am totally positive that the Bean has died. Continually spotting does not help, neither does the constant cramping.
I understand that the cramping is a normal part of early pregnancy - its ligaments or something, but seriously, the Bean is 1.16 cm long - how much room does it need.
Luckily, the clinic takes my mania seriously, and I get weekly u/s. Which means 2 days before I go off down the whatif path of no return. Sandy asks when I expect to start enjoying this pregnancy. After all, we have worked so hard for it, surely we should start to enjoy it. There is no concept of enjoying it, there is just a sense of relief at making it to the next milestone. 10 weeks, lets see if the placenta forms so my crappy immune system can stop destroying it, 12 weeks, lets see if we make it through the nuchal fold test (not to mention actually making it to 12 weeks). My lovely friends are all aware that they can't mention this pregnancy until 12 weeks.
I know, I am not alone, lots of long term ivfers feel this way, particularly if there have been previous losses. I bookmark a few blogs and get Spot to read them, hoping he can understand, but he can't. He is just positive and happy and patiently waiting for me to get there so we can share it. Poor thing, not only was he deprived by taking up with an ivf chick, now he can't even enjoy this baby with me.
Still, I have reached a point of zen. What will be will be.
The peace of u/s lasts for about 2 days, then I am totally positive that the Bean has died. Continually spotting does not help, neither does the constant cramping.
I understand that the cramping is a normal part of early pregnancy - its ligaments or something, but seriously, the Bean is 1.16 cm long - how much room does it need.
Luckily, the clinic takes my mania seriously, and I get weekly u/s. Which means 2 days before I go off down the whatif path of no return. Sandy asks when I expect to start enjoying this pregnancy. After all, we have worked so hard for it, surely we should start to enjoy it. There is no concept of enjoying it, there is just a sense of relief at making it to the next milestone. 10 weeks, lets see if the placenta forms so my crappy immune system can stop destroying it, 12 weeks, lets see if we make it through the nuchal fold test (not to mention actually making it to 12 weeks). My lovely friends are all aware that they can't mention this pregnancy until 12 weeks.
I know, I am not alone, lots of long term ivfers feel this way, particularly if there have been previous losses. I bookmark a few blogs and get Spot to read them, hoping he can understand, but he can't. He is just positive and happy and patiently waiting for me to get there so we can share it. Poor thing, not only was he deprived by taking up with an ivf chick, now he can't even enjoy this baby with me.
Still, I have reached a point of zen. What will be will be.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Baby still on board
I knew I didn't trust hospitals for a reason (like the complete misdiagnosis of the first two ectopics, ohhh, just as an example).
Turns out bleeding is a subchorionic haematoma. Its a clot in the newly forming placenta and its clearly visible when Karen does my weekly ultrasound this morning. Fortunately it is fairly far away from Bean, also Bean continues to have a heartbeat (153bpm in case anyone is counting). This is good.
Dr Google tells me that 40% of pregnancies will have some bleeding and 50% of those will go on to be fine. Luckily that leaves me 50% to worry about. My FS starts to talk about handing me over to an obs (which she is not). I'm not sure I can cope with graduation, but luckily I get to have a blood test to compensate.
Turns out bleeding is a subchorionic haematoma. Its a clot in the newly forming placenta and its clearly visible when Karen does my weekly ultrasound this morning. Fortunately it is fairly far away from Bean, also Bean continues to have a heartbeat (153bpm in case anyone is counting). This is good.
Dr Google tells me that 40% of pregnancies will have some bleeding and 50% of those will go on to be fine. Luckily that leaves me 50% to worry about. My FS starts to talk about handing me over to an obs (which she is not). I'm not sure I can cope with graduation, but luckily I get to have a blood test to compensate.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Things you learn in Emergency Dept
1. Coffee carts arrive at 3am so that the night nurses get a break. Not bad coffee either.
2. Said night nurses get really cranky if you keep pulling out your canular so that you can go outside to have a cigarette, particularly if you keep bleeding on the floor (this I overheard, not experienced).
3. Radiographers are expensive and the Drs won't call them out for miscarriages.
4. Spot the Wonder boy gets cranky when they tell him to go home at 1am cos nothing is going to happen until 8am.
What they don't tell you in ED
Why you are currently bleeding to death, and whether your baby is still alive.
Still, good to know about the coffee.
In the end, they do an ultrasound (at a reasonable time when the radiographer feels like turning up for work), find a heartbeat and no blood around the uterus or fluid in my tube and send me home to bed rest with a diagnosis of threatened miscarriage.
Remember how, a few weeks ago, I ran into my boss at my clinic and was horribly embarassed. Now, not so much. He actually understands what we are going through and tells me to take as much time as I need on bedrest. This is possibly the worst week in the entire year for this to happen (cos, hell, there is a good time for a threatened miscarriage) and he makes me cry by being so completely and totally understanding.
Lots of phone calls back and forth between Sandy, the FS and me (its not that I don't believe the hospital, its just that, well, I don't believe the hospital) and I'm on bedrest.
Spot tries to ban me from Dr Google, Mama Bear just starts praying (she's good like that) and I rest.
2. Said night nurses get really cranky if you keep pulling out your canular so that you can go outside to have a cigarette, particularly if you keep bleeding on the floor (this I overheard, not experienced).
3. Radiographers are expensive and the Drs won't call them out for miscarriages.
4. Spot the Wonder boy gets cranky when they tell him to go home at 1am cos nothing is going to happen until 8am.
What they don't tell you in ED
Why you are currently bleeding to death, and whether your baby is still alive.
Still, good to know about the coffee.
In the end, they do an ultrasound (at a reasonable time when the radiographer feels like turning up for work), find a heartbeat and no blood around the uterus or fluid in my tube and send me home to bed rest with a diagnosis of threatened miscarriage.
Remember how, a few weeks ago, I ran into my boss at my clinic and was horribly embarassed. Now, not so much. He actually understands what we are going through and tells me to take as much time as I need on bedrest. This is possibly the worst week in the entire year for this to happen (cos, hell, there is a good time for a threatened miscarriage) and he makes me cry by being so completely and totally understanding.
Lots of phone calls back and forth between Sandy, the FS and me (its not that I don't believe the hospital, its just that, well, I don't believe the hospital) and I'm on bedrest.
Spot tries to ban me from Dr Google, Mama Bear just starts praying (she's good like that) and I rest.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
I love my friends
Today I made one of the hardest phone calls I have had to make, and as usual you havent let me down at all.
Despite losing both your babes in 3 months, you still managed to sound happy for me. Even if you are only faking it, you did it so well, and I am so grateful that you are my friend and bring light into my world.
I know that it won't be long and I will be congratulating you, but in the mean time, I know how hard it is to get the news that once again someone ELSE is getting the baby and you are not.
Thank you.
Despite losing both your babes in 3 months, you still managed to sound happy for me. Even if you are only faking it, you did it so well, and I am so grateful that you are my friend and bring light into my world.
I know that it won't be long and I will be congratulating you, but in the mean time, I know how hard it is to get the news that once again someone ELSE is getting the baby and you are not.
Thank you.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Houston, we have a heartbeat
Back again on dildo cam ...
By now, I totally fail to have any dignity at all, before the door is practically closed I am on the bed, stripping off. Karen, the radiographer, keeps leaving the room in order "to give me some privacy", then she comes back and sticks a condom covered wand and starts poking around, so I am not sure what sort of privacy she means here. Nevermind, just a random thought from the trenches.
Back to the important bits ... bean has grown, and has a heartbeat, 117 bpm. Which everyone is happy with, even me. That should stop me from panicing for approximately 7 hours. The little thing is measuring 6w, 2 days so a little smaller but generally all good. It flickers away on the screen like a little beacon.
So to sum up, we have a heartbeat in the right place, it can only end in disaster.
By now, I totally fail to have any dignity at all, before the door is practically closed I am on the bed, stripping off. Karen, the radiographer, keeps leaving the room in order "to give me some privacy", then she comes back and sticks a condom covered wand and starts poking around, so I am not sure what sort of privacy she means here. Nevermind, just a random thought from the trenches.
Back to the important bits ... bean has grown, and has a heartbeat, 117 bpm. Which everyone is happy with, even me. That should stop me from panicing for approximately 7 hours. The little thing is measuring 6w, 2 days so a little smaller but generally all good. It flickers away on the screen like a little beacon.
So to sum up, we have a heartbeat in the right place, it can only end in disaster.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Oh look, there it is
Right where it ought to be, with all the bits that it ought to have.
I cry, Spot cries, Sandy and Anne cry when I go in to the clinic next door to tell them (oh, and to have my blood test). Its a postive festival of weeping.
Now I can get on with panicing about the heartbeat.
HCG is still lowish, but mostly doubling now - up to 25,340. P4 has come down, now its 843. The girls keep checking that I am not on pessaries anymore - as if I am hiding them up there for fun. Not so much.
I cry, Spot cries, Sandy and Anne cry when I go in to the clinic next door to tell them (oh, and to have my blood test). Its a postive festival of weeping.
Now I can get on with panicing about the heartbeat.
HCG is still lowish, but mostly doubling now - up to 25,340. P4 has come down, now its 843. The girls keep checking that I am not on pessaries anymore - as if I am hiding them up there for fun. Not so much.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Is it possible to have pregnancy brain this early ....
In a carefully calculated choice obviously designed to completely destroy any sense of equilibrium I currently have, I fuck up the timing of my second ultrasound appointment.
This is the one that will show me where the little thing is, and whether it has any of those useful things like a fetal pole or yolk sack, or anything that might be useful. You know, the one that will stop me thinking that my baby is ectopic. Nothing important, just peace of mind so that I can get on with worrying about miscarriage.
Turns out it is not today after all. Its Wednesday. As in two days. As in the day that Spot can't go, as his entire week has been arranged around today.
3 frantic phone calls later and the clinic has rearranged the u/s for first thing Wed morning, at least we can go to our doom together. In the meantime, Spot fields calls and texts from people desperately waiting to hear our today went. Reason No# 176 not to tell people anything.
This is the one that will show me where the little thing is, and whether it has any of those useful things like a fetal pole or yolk sack, or anything that might be useful. You know, the one that will stop me thinking that my baby is ectopic. Nothing important, just peace of mind so that I can get on with worrying about miscarriage.
Turns out it is not today after all. Its Wednesday. As in two days. As in the day that Spot can't go, as his entire week has been arranged around today.
3 frantic phone calls later and the clinic has rearranged the u/s for first thing Wed morning, at least we can go to our doom together. In the meantime, Spot fields calls and texts from people desperately waiting to hear our today went. Reason No# 176 not to tell people anything.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
finally
I finally made it over 2000, and booked in for the ultrasound to find out where the little sucker is.
It took the radiographer over 10 minutes, but she thinks that she can see a gestational sac, a uterine one that is. So, maybe not ectopic, but then again. How can it take that long, there ain't that much room in there?
I try to explain to Spot why this does not fill me with hope. I have been here before, and 2 weeks later my tube exploded. When it takes this long to find, who knows.
It took the radiographer over 10 minutes, but she thinks that she can see a gestational sac, a uterine one that is. So, maybe not ectopic, but then again. How can it take that long, there ain't that much room in there?
I try to explain to Spot why this does not fill me with hope. I have been here before, and 2 weeks later my tube exploded. When it takes this long to find, who knows.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Still counting
bhcg 963 - 4w, 6d
Still rising, still not doubling.
Bleeding has settled, cramps have got worse.
Sandy thinks everything is chirpy - she says its all good, and the cramping is just because my p4 is so insanely high (1234 if you are keeping count).
I am just a mess of symptoms, I float between fairly positive it is another ectopic and just being fairly insane. Poor Spot brings tea and tries to be sympathetic, mostly he tries to contain his enthusiasm, its difficult for him as he is bouncing out of his skin.
Still rising, still not doubling.
Bleeding has settled, cramps have got worse.
Sandy thinks everything is chirpy - she says its all good, and the cramping is just because my p4 is so insanely high (1234 if you are keeping count).
I am just a mess of symptoms, I float between fairly positive it is another ectopic and just being fairly insane. Poor Spot brings tea and tries to be sympathetic, mostly he tries to contain his enthusiasm, its difficult for him as he is bouncing out of his skin.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
In beta hell
New beta is in - 183.
Still odd, they like it to double within 48 hours. This one, not so much, but its close. Annie is still on the fence, new beta in a couple of days.
P4 is 1563, yes it has gone up. My body really really loves drugs, I knew I should have tried the crack path. On the bright side, they think that I can probably sustain the non-viable pregnancy on my own at this point so I can stop using the pessaries and the pregnyl. On the downside, they think that the P4 is causing the cramps, and the bleeding.
I spend the day doing calculations on every website I can find, and trawling the net for beta stories. Oh boy, there are a lot out there. I draw comfort from the massive variation and the fact that so many different clinics have different threshholds. Well, as much comfort as can be drawn given the fact that I am obviously having another ectopic.
Spot does cartwheels and calls his entire family. I envy his positivity, even as I try to destroy it by explaining the 12 week rule and absolutely everything that can go wrong at this point. He listens patiently and says "but it won't". Hard to argue with that really.
Still odd, they like it to double within 48 hours. This one, not so much, but its close. Annie is still on the fence, new beta in a couple of days.
P4 is 1563, yes it has gone up. My body really really loves drugs, I knew I should have tried the crack path. On the bright side, they think that I can probably sustain the non-viable pregnancy on my own at this point so I can stop using the pessaries and the pregnyl. On the downside, they think that the P4 is causing the cramps, and the bleeding.
I spend the day doing calculations on every website I can find, and trawling the net for beta stories. Oh boy, there are a lot out there. I draw comfort from the massive variation and the fact that so many different clinics have different threshholds. Well, as much comfort as can be drawn given the fact that I am obviously having another ectopic.
Spot does cartwheels and calls his entire family. I envy his positivity, even as I try to destroy it by explaining the 12 week rule and absolutely everything that can go wrong at this point. He listens patiently and says "but it won't". Hard to argue with that really.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Not so much irony
Notwithstanding yesterdays almost result, in traditional form, I start bleeding.
Fantastic.
Fantastic.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
A little bit pregnant
Not just the name of one of my favourite blogs, its also a state of body that we have seen before.
Its one of those phrases that doesnt make any sense to IVF people - oh, you can't be a little bit pregnant - WANNA MAKE A BET!!!
Annie rings with the news, the first beta is back, its 89, and they like it to be over a 100 before they will call it for pregnancy. So, its a not quite congratulations, more a wait and see. This is what happens with faux pregnancies (ectopics and the like) so I can't begin to get happy, Spot of course, feels that his optimism has paid off and that everything is fine.
But its 89.
On the bright side - my body loves progesterone. They like the p4 to be over 60, mine is currently 1300, yep 1300. Thats not a typo. It seems excessive, but Dr Google only talks about low p4, there is nothing out there about stupidly high ones. Fabulous.
New bloods Saturday.
Organised religion suddenly seems such a good idea, if anyone needs me, I am off frantically praying.
Its one of those phrases that doesnt make any sense to IVF people - oh, you can't be a little bit pregnant - WANNA MAKE A BET!!!
Annie rings with the news, the first beta is back, its 89, and they like it to be over a 100 before they will call it for pregnancy. So, its a not quite congratulations, more a wait and see. This is what happens with faux pregnancies (ectopics and the like) so I can't begin to get happy, Spot of course, feels that his optimism has paid off and that everything is fine.
But its 89.
On the bright side - my body loves progesterone. They like the p4 to be over 60, mine is currently 1300, yep 1300. Thats not a typo. It seems excessive, but Dr Google only talks about low p4, there is nothing out there about stupidly high ones. Fabulous.
New bloods Saturday.
Organised religion suddenly seems such a good idea, if anyone needs me, I am off frantically praying.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Not bleeding ....
How odd, usually the bleeding starts 2 days before my blood test is due.
Spot is quietly optimistic. He would be loudly optimistic but then he sees the look on my face, so he is settling for quiet.
Spot is quietly optimistic. He would be loudly optimistic but then he sees the look on my face, so he is settling for quiet.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
2 week waiting
This has to be the worst week known to mankind. Sure, I accept that every person thinks that about their own personal disaster, but seriously, the 2nd week of the 2ww beats everything hands down.
Trying searching the internet - you'll see. All the way out there in webland are thousands of women who are usually happy, shiny together adults falling into small puddles of disaster, and frantically googling to check every twinge. Some women go the poas route, start testing, and then begin beating themselves up over the results - false negatives and false positives abound in ivf land. Or like me, the drugs prevent an even vaguely accurate result so I retreat into Dr Google and overanalyse every single symptom. And boy are there a lot of them this time round. Unlike the last round, where nothing happened (to the point where I felt like ringing the FS just to check that they really had put something back) this week I have cramps, spotting, tiredness, nausea, sore bits - a positive cornucopia of symptoms. And they all mean nothing!!!
My little ones are in there and have made up their mind one way or another. And there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. For a major league control freak that is slightly annoying. I honestly believe that it makes no difference whether you dance naked under the moon, eat everything in sight, don't eat anything, wear jade, find a fertility god of your choice, or just sit on your arse and cry. Of course, none of that helps.
Pray to whatever gods you believe in that we are all OK.
Trying searching the internet - you'll see. All the way out there in webland are thousands of women who are usually happy, shiny together adults falling into small puddles of disaster, and frantically googling to check every twinge. Some women go the poas route, start testing, and then begin beating themselves up over the results - false negatives and false positives abound in ivf land. Or like me, the drugs prevent an even vaguely accurate result so I retreat into Dr Google and overanalyse every single symptom. And boy are there a lot of them this time round. Unlike the last round, where nothing happened (to the point where I felt like ringing the FS just to check that they really had put something back) this week I have cramps, spotting, tiredness, nausea, sore bits - a positive cornucopia of symptoms. And they all mean nothing!!!
My little ones are in there and have made up their mind one way or another. And there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. For a major league control freak that is slightly annoying. I honestly believe that it makes no difference whether you dance naked under the moon, eat everything in sight, don't eat anything, wear jade, find a fertility god of your choice, or just sit on your arse and cry. Of course, none of that helps.
Pray to whatever gods you believe in that we are all OK.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Support team goes awol ...
No, thats fine, off you go, enjoy your holidays, I am sure everything will be fine this end.
ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!
I believe that I have previously mentioned Sandy, the lovely and amazing fertility nurse. Well, if not, Sandy is amazing. She is completely calm and unflappable and never fails to mind me either being insane at her or ringing to ask a question for the third time. She has been part of this journey for the last year, and is unfailingly positive and chirpy, even in the face of outright disaster. So, today, I go in as usual for bloods (one reason why I love her, regardless of how dehydrated I am, she can always find a vein and only takes out a cm of blood!), and she casually mentions that she will be on leave next week. All week. Including Thursday which is my pregnancy BT. I am slightly disturbed by how much I panic at the thought that Sandy will not be there for that. What ifs, you know, what if its another chemical, what if it fails again, what if the prog is too low, or it doesn't double or blah, blah, blah. No Sandy???
The other nurses are fine, and lovely too, but no Sandy??
It gets better, I have been having acupuncture for the last year, and today, Alex casually announces that he will be on leave next week as well. But thats ok, cos I can always see the other practitioner. Now, I have nothing against the other practitioner (apart from the fact that he looks like he is 12, Doogie Howser has nothing on this guy) but Alex has been sticking needles in me for the last year.
Now I hate to be dramatic (no really, I do) but this is only possibly the most important week of my life and my carefully controlled support team is just vanishing. Spot thinks I am probably over-reacting but little does he know. Its amazing how much you come to rely on the bits that you can control, given that so much of this is out of your control. I like seeing familiar faces, I like it being the same voice giving me the bad news on the other end of the phone, I like that I don't have to pretend that I am positive with these people, but can be bloody annoyed at yet another failure.
I do hope they enjoy their holiday, I just wish it was any other week.
ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!
I believe that I have previously mentioned Sandy, the lovely and amazing fertility nurse. Well, if not, Sandy is amazing. She is completely calm and unflappable and never fails to mind me either being insane at her or ringing to ask a question for the third time. She has been part of this journey for the last year, and is unfailingly positive and chirpy, even in the face of outright disaster. So, today, I go in as usual for bloods (one reason why I love her, regardless of how dehydrated I am, she can always find a vein and only takes out a cm of blood!), and she casually mentions that she will be on leave next week. All week. Including Thursday which is my pregnancy BT. I am slightly disturbed by how much I panic at the thought that Sandy will not be there for that. What ifs, you know, what if its another chemical, what if it fails again, what if the prog is too low, or it doesn't double or blah, blah, blah. No Sandy???
The other nurses are fine, and lovely too, but no Sandy??
It gets better, I have been having acupuncture for the last year, and today, Alex casually announces that he will be on leave next week as well. But thats ok, cos I can always see the other practitioner. Now, I have nothing against the other practitioner (apart from the fact that he looks like he is 12, Doogie Howser has nothing on this guy) but Alex has been sticking needles in me for the last year.
Now I hate to be dramatic (no really, I do) but this is only possibly the most important week of my life and my carefully controlled support team is just vanishing. Spot thinks I am probably over-reacting but little does he know. Its amazing how much you come to rely on the bits that you can control, given that so much of this is out of your control. I like seeing familiar faces, I like it being the same voice giving me the bad news on the other end of the phone, I like that I don't have to pretend that I am positive with these people, but can be bloody annoyed at yet another failure.
I do hope they enjoy their holiday, I just wish it was any other week.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
And boy do I have em ...
Symptoms that is.
As anyone who has been trying to conceive will know, the 2ww is a time of awe and wonder. NOT!! I have every symptom under the sun - cramps, nausea, sore boobs, emotional changes. And none of this is indicative of anything except that I am taking way toooooo much progesterone. Yes, the mighty sypmtoms of progesterone are EXACTLY the same as early pregnancy symptoms.
Assuming you happen to by one of the small but happy percentage who even get early pregnancy symptoms. My sister-in-law, one of those people who falls pregnant whenever she feels like it (don't even get me started!!) once told me that she knows to the minute when she conceives. She wasn't particularly thrilled at me when I suggested that she should have sex more, but hey, what did I say.
I, on the other hand, not so much. I am officially 8 days past ovulation, 3 days past transfer. If the either of my passengers is going to stick around, they have deciding to do so and are happily burrowing away. Some people start peeing on a stick at this point - there is not even any point to me doing that, as the pregnyl will just show up as a false positive.
Stay calm and relax, is the general mantra. Which would be fine, except that they take away all the normal props for staying calm and relaxed, no cigarettes, no alcohol, no happy food. Its a shame that there is no mantra for stay paranoid and manic - that I would be chanting.
As anyone who has been trying to conceive will know, the 2ww is a time of awe and wonder. NOT!! I have every symptom under the sun - cramps, nausea, sore boobs, emotional changes. And none of this is indicative of anything except that I am taking way toooooo much progesterone. Yes, the mighty sypmtoms of progesterone are EXACTLY the same as early pregnancy symptoms.
Assuming you happen to by one of the small but happy percentage who even get early pregnancy symptoms. My sister-in-law, one of those people who falls pregnant whenever she feels like it (don't even get me started!!) once told me that she knows to the minute when she conceives. She wasn't particularly thrilled at me when I suggested that she should have sex more, but hey, what did I say.
I, on the other hand, not so much. I am officially 8 days past ovulation, 3 days past transfer. If the either of my passengers is going to stick around, they have deciding to do so and are happily burrowing away. Some people start peeing on a stick at this point - there is not even any point to me doing that, as the pregnyl will just show up as a false positive.
Stay calm and relax, is the general mantra. Which would be fine, except that they take away all the normal props for staying calm and relaxed, no cigarettes, no alcohol, no happy food. Its a shame that there is no mantra for stay paranoid and manic - that I would be chanting.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Baby on board
Well, couple of embryos anyway.
In the official language of the internets - I am PUPO - Pregnant until proven otherwise. Or more less positively - the dreaded two week wait. Yes, the 2ww, where every symptom is ruthlessly overanalysed, every twinge discussed and thought about, and every waking moment consumed by the need to think about something else. Its just like Disneyland but without the treats.
Old wives tales abound - rest a lot, don't rest a lot, continue your normal routine, eat pineapple, don't eat pineapple, don't have spa's or do anything to raise your temperature, have sex, don't have sex. Eat anything, eat like you are pregant. Do you see my point!
My new theory is that since crack-whores in alleys appear to be the only people actually getting pregnant at the moment, I should lie around in alleys and take lots of crack. Seriously, this could be the missing ingredient in my pregnancy attempts. Unsurprisingly, no one else seems to think this is a good idea. Bah, what would medical professionsals know anyway.
I start shooting up the rest of my drugs and add progesterone and prednisolone to the mix. Its a fairly standard routine, but since it has to be done at certain time points, it does make having a life a little tricky.
Odd things that they do on transfer day - they gave us a photo of the embryos that they were transferring. "Oh, look, they have your trophoblast"??????
They have transferred two embyros, one hatching and the other pretty close. Out of the rest only 2 are suitable for freezing, the rest are too fragmented. Still thats 3 more than last time, it just seems such a huge waste - out of 24, 4 are even possibles, let alone getting through the 2ww and then thawing.
I'm going off to quietly panic. Please stick around, little people. Stick around and grow.
In the official language of the internets - I am PUPO - Pregnant until proven otherwise. Or more less positively - the dreaded two week wait. Yes, the 2ww, where every symptom is ruthlessly overanalysed, every twinge discussed and thought about, and every waking moment consumed by the need to think about something else. Its just like Disneyland but without the treats.
Old wives tales abound - rest a lot, don't rest a lot, continue your normal routine, eat pineapple, don't eat pineapple, don't have spa's or do anything to raise your temperature, have sex, don't have sex. Eat anything, eat like you are pregant. Do you see my point!
My new theory is that since crack-whores in alleys appear to be the only people actually getting pregnant at the moment, I should lie around in alleys and take lots of crack. Seriously, this could be the missing ingredient in my pregnancy attempts. Unsurprisingly, no one else seems to think this is a good idea. Bah, what would medical professionsals know anyway.
I start shooting up the rest of my drugs and add progesterone and prednisolone to the mix. Its a fairly standard routine, but since it has to be done at certain time points, it does make having a life a little tricky.
Odd things that they do on transfer day - they gave us a photo of the embryos that they were transferring. "Oh, look, they have your trophoblast"??????
They have transferred two embyros, one hatching and the other pretty close. Out of the rest only 2 are suitable for freezing, the rest are too fragmented. Still thats 3 more than last time, it just seems such a huge waste - out of 24, 4 are even possibles, let alone getting through the 2ww and then thawing.
I'm going off to quietly panic. Please stick around, little people. Stick around and grow.
Life outside of IVF
Nope, fooled you, we dont really have one.
I promised myself that this time we would have a life outside of IVF, that I wouldn't become consumed while I was cycling, but I have come to the conclusion that the only way to do that is either not cycle or just go into an induced coma.
Which, incidentally, isn't such a bad idea. I wonder how you go getting yourself put in long term stasis.
Spot got promoted, which is fabulous, the bloating seems to have started to come down, which is also fabulous.
In an effort not to turn into a parody of myself where all I can talk about is my ivf, I have told hardly anyone about this cycle. It means that I don't have to answer questions and there is no expectant looks. Not my friends, not my family. Time enough for telling when there is something to tell. Last night at dinner with friends, I discovered that Spot does not feel this way, and although they respect my right not to talk about it, all are busily keeping track of every development through facebook and sms. I know we covered this earlier, but when is it ok to kill your partner :).
He has tried to explain it by claiming that extroverts (which he is) need to talk more than introverts (which I am), and that he can't help it, it just slips out cos he is excited. Uh huh.
Eggwatch Day 4 -
6 appear like they will make it to blastocyst, and the other two look like they will catch up. The scientist refuses to discuss how well they are doing, there is some fragmentation, but at this stage, there should be something to transfer tomorrow. My E2 is still really high, but my FS says that we should be able to sneak in a transfer and then deal with the OHSS if it happens, but the E2 has come down enought that it should be OK.
My poor little runt is still quivering away but it doesn't look good for him.
I promised myself that this time we would have a life outside of IVF, that I wouldn't become consumed while I was cycling, but I have come to the conclusion that the only way to do that is either not cycle or just go into an induced coma.
Which, incidentally, isn't such a bad idea. I wonder how you go getting yourself put in long term stasis.
Spot got promoted, which is fabulous, the bloating seems to have started to come down, which is also fabulous.
In an effort not to turn into a parody of myself where all I can talk about is my ivf, I have told hardly anyone about this cycle. It means that I don't have to answer questions and there is no expectant looks. Not my friends, not my family. Time enough for telling when there is something to tell. Last night at dinner with friends, I discovered that Spot does not feel this way, and although they respect my right not to talk about it, all are busily keeping track of every development through facebook and sms. I know we covered this earlier, but when is it ok to kill your partner :).
He has tried to explain it by claiming that extroverts (which he is) need to talk more than introverts (which I am), and that he can't help it, it just slips out cos he is excited. Uh huh.
Eggwatch Day 4 -
6 appear like they will make it to blastocyst, and the other two look like they will catch up. The scientist refuses to discuss how well they are doing, there is some fragmentation, but at this stage, there should be something to transfer tomorrow. My E2 is still really high, but my FS says that we should be able to sneak in a transfer and then deal with the OHSS if it happens, but the E2 has come down enought that it should be OK.
My poor little runt is still quivering away but it doesn't look good for him.
Friday, June 19, 2009
My favourite is the runt
Day 3 embryo update:
8 still dividing nicely, and a ninth that seems suspended on 4 cells. It hasn't actually given up the ghost, just sits there quivering like it is going to get round to dividing but really, whats the point.
I hope that it gets it act together - my money is on the runt.
Still with the massive ouch, Sandy tells me that I shouldn't feel anything through the incredibly powerful painkillers, I should barely be able to move. Ummmmm, what painkillers?? Turns out I left a script behind in my rush to get out of the hospital. So, the wonderful shiny nurses fax through a prescription to my local chemist and now it turns out that I am probably not dying of septicaemia after all, but am happily floating away on the pink fluffy cloud.
Did I mention I love these girls.
I really hope my little runt gets it together
8 still dividing nicely, and a ninth that seems suspended on 4 cells. It hasn't actually given up the ghost, just sits there quivering like it is going to get round to dividing but really, whats the point.
I hope that it gets it act together - my money is on the runt.
Still with the massive ouch, Sandy tells me that I shouldn't feel anything through the incredibly powerful painkillers, I should barely be able to move. Ummmmm, what painkillers?? Turns out I left a script behind in my rush to get out of the hospital. So, the wonderful shiny nurses fax through a prescription to my local chemist and now it turns out that I am probably not dying of septicaemia after all, but am happily floating away on the pink fluffy cloud.
Did I mention I love these girls.
I really hope my little runt gets it together
Thursday, June 18, 2009
So sorry
Heard today that beloved friends have lost their baby. Second time in a short time too, my heart bleeds for them, and I wish there were words.
There is a very small but very close community who understand what this pain feels like, over and over again, and I wish I could explain how amazing and joyous these women are. How optimistic, and how they fill my heart with hope over, and over.
Like so many others, I long for words, but there aren't any.
I'm soooo sorry, Jo.
There is a very small but very close community who understand what this pain feels like, over and over again, and I wish I could explain how amazing and joyous these women are. How optimistic, and how they fill my heart with hope over, and over.
Like so many others, I long for words, but there aren't any.
I'm soooo sorry, Jo.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Fly, fly my pretties
Ok, so not so bad. I get to go first cos my numbers are so high, so I am out of surgery by 9.30. Spot has his contribution in and ready to go, (and gets a "Well done" from the nurse, go figure).
25 eggs harvested
19 mature
14 fertilesed.
My E2 is insane, but only on the slightly bad side of insane, and the FS is optimistic that transfer will go ahead. Im going home to drink lots and lots and hope that it comes down.
Grow, little ones, grow.
Oh, and ouch!
Spot brings tea and biscuits at alarmingly regular intervals - he is good with practical problem solving and I sleep most of the afternoon after the scientists ring, but oh, OUCH!
25 eggs harvested
19 mature
14 fertilesed.
My E2 is insane, but only on the slightly bad side of insane, and the FS is optimistic that transfer will go ahead. Im going home to drink lots and lots and hope that it comes down.
Grow, little ones, grow.
Oh, and ouch!
Spot brings tea and biscuits at alarmingly regular intervals - he is good with practical problem solving and I sleep most of the afternoon after the scientists ring, but oh, OUCH!
Monday, June 15, 2009
My cover is blown
Ultrasound this morning - there are about 19 follicles and the dominant ones are huge! They run out of room to write down the numbers. Rather than worry about not having enough mature eggs, I can now worry about not getting to EPU because my numbers are too big.
On the totally not bright side - I walk out of the blood test at the clinic this morning to find my general manager and his partner sitting there waiting to go in. There is no easy way around this, we both know why we are here, its a fertility clinic, not a general practitioner.
If anyone needs me, I am dying of embarassment over in the corner.
Sandy rings this afternoon to tell me that my E2 is borderline and they are worried that I am going to ovulate regardless, so they will trigger tonight and do EPU on Wednesday. I ask what are the chances of going ahead with transfer and she prevaricates. Oh good!
Oh the bright side, since having ovaries the size of tennis balls is less than amusing - I cant wait. I'm still not feeling that excited or hopeful, I just want this over.
On the totally not bright side - I walk out of the blood test at the clinic this morning to find my general manager and his partner sitting there waiting to go in. There is no easy way around this, we both know why we are here, its a fertility clinic, not a general practitioner.
If anyone needs me, I am dying of embarassment over in the corner.
Sandy rings this afternoon to tell me that my E2 is borderline and they are worried that I am going to ovulate regardless, so they will trigger tonight and do EPU on Wednesday. I ask what are the chances of going ahead with transfer and she prevaricates. Oh good!
Oh the bright side, since having ovaries the size of tennis balls is less than amusing - I cant wait. I'm still not feeling that excited or hopeful, I just want this over.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Still up there
Yep, its still climbing. Massively.
Still on the beginning of the danger zone. So, so far, so good. Sandy thinks it might be a good idea to have the ultrasound on Monday, to see where the follicles are up too. I am sure I will think so too, particularly after I sit down with Dr Google and figure out what I can panic about.
EPU isnt supposed to be until next Friday, but I begin hinting to work that I may need to start my leave early. Cough, cough, yep, definitely not feeling well.
Swine flu, anyone?
Still on the beginning of the danger zone. So, so far, so good. Sandy thinks it might be a good idea to have the ultrasound on Monday, to see where the follicles are up too. I am sure I will think so too, particularly after I sit down with Dr Google and figure out what I can panic about.
EPU isnt supposed to be until next Friday, but I begin hinting to work that I may need to start my leave early. Cough, cough, yep, definitely not feeling well.
Swine flu, anyone?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Oopppss!!
Boy, does my body love E2.
Its leaping through the roof - over 6000. They decide to wind back the dial and hope that I dont hyperstim.
More bloods on Friday.
Its leaping through the roof - over 6000. They decide to wind back the dial and hope that I dont hyperstim.
More bloods on Friday.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Slight emergency
Is it bad form to kill your partner before the embryo transfer. I just need to get the etiquette down.
So all is proceeding to plan, started sniffing lucrin yesterday (and what a joyous occassion that is for all concerned - that is not a strawberry scented delight sliding down my nose). Nevermind, its all the greater good etc. Sunday, that is tonight, off I happily trip to the fridge to get my Puregon. But wait, no puregon, no pregnyl.
SWP has had a complete brain failure. There was not enough room in the fridge, so he has taken my incredibly expensive fertility drugs out and left them with the other drugs in the bathroom. Despite knowing that they get picked up with massive ice packs and that they must go straight home to the fridge, despite me checking 3 times with him "did you put the drugs in the fridge", despite this being our 4th stim cycle (so he has been here before) - he thought they would be OK on the bench. He doesn't know why either.
Luckily the after hours clinic answers the phone (it is 7.30 on Sunday). Annie doesn't know whether I can use them, but phones back to say that the pregnyl will have to be destroyed but the puregon will be OK. I have to go and pick up more pregnyl with my blood tests this week.
Oh, and she says that I can't kill him, she thinks that we will need him later. Personally, Im not so sure :)
So all is proceeding to plan, started sniffing lucrin yesterday (and what a joyous occassion that is for all concerned - that is not a strawberry scented delight sliding down my nose). Nevermind, its all the greater good etc. Sunday, that is tonight, off I happily trip to the fridge to get my Puregon. But wait, no puregon, no pregnyl.
SWP has had a complete brain failure. There was not enough room in the fridge, so he has taken my incredibly expensive fertility drugs out and left them with the other drugs in the bathroom. Despite knowing that they get picked up with massive ice packs and that they must go straight home to the fridge, despite me checking 3 times with him "did you put the drugs in the fridge", despite this being our 4th stim cycle (so he has been here before) - he thought they would be OK on the bench. He doesn't know why either.
Luckily the after hours clinic answers the phone (it is 7.30 on Sunday). Annie doesn't know whether I can use them, but phones back to say that the pregnyl will have to be destroyed but the puregon will be OK. I have to go and pick up more pregnyl with my blood tests this week.
Oh, and she says that I can't kill him, she thinks that we will need him later. Personally, Im not so sure :)
Friday, June 5, 2009
I may go mad
It would probably be easier all round.
Still no period.
Update: late this afternoon, we have take off. Let the rollercoaster begin. Its not often that I am so glad to see her, but finally!!!!
Start sniffing tomorrow, injections on Sunday. yahhh!!!
Still no period.
Update: late this afternoon, we have take off. Let the rollercoaster begin. Its not often that I am so glad to see her, but finally!!!!
Start sniffing tomorrow, injections on Sunday. yahhh!!!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Ummm, hello??
This conception thing seems to spend a lot of time revolving around my period. Which was due 2 days ago, yes, thats right my incredibly reliable, 28 day cycle has gone missing in action.
Why can't it do that when I am waiting for a blood test.
Nope, it still not here. No matter how many times I check, there is no period.
Im late. I even try the traditional-guaranteed-to-make-my-period-arrive trick and POAS. Oh good, now I have a negative, and still no period.
Just waiting then. Fine.
Why can't it do that when I am waiting for a blood test.
Nope, it still not here. No matter how many times I check, there is no period.
Im late. I even try the traditional-guaranteed-to-make-my-period-arrive trick and POAS. Oh good, now I have a negative, and still no period.
Just waiting then. Fine.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Weapons of mass conception
OK, the list got longer, but in the end, I think that we will go for it. I am supposed to start Wednesday, Day 1.
Went in and picked up the drugs today (those little packs get bigger and bigger each time). We are throwing everything at it this time - clexane, prednisolone, pregnyl, progesterone - everything that has made any difference in the past. Its a flare cycle, so no BCP, just get my period, start sniffing and shooting up, and monitor like crazy.
Alex can fit me in for acupuncture too, so all the stars seem aligned. The nurses are so lovely, Sandy is practically overjoyed to see us, tells us that this time will be the one. At least some one is positive.
I may be bitter??
Went in and picked up the drugs today (those little packs get bigger and bigger each time). We are throwing everything at it this time - clexane, prednisolone, pregnyl, progesterone - everything that has made any difference in the past. Its a flare cycle, so no BCP, just get my period, start sniffing and shooting up, and monitor like crazy.
Alex can fit me in for acupuncture too, so all the stars seem aligned. The nurses are so lovely, Sandy is practically overjoyed to see us, tells us that this time will be the one. At least some one is positive.
I may be bitter??
Friday, May 29, 2009
Here we go again ....
Definition of insanity: trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
Ignoring the above, it turns out that my clinic can fit me again, if I decide to cycle again.
Pro's: Possible Baby
Con's: well, just about everything
My last cycle went so terribly badly that I am not sure that I am ready to trawl down this murky lane ever again. Out of 19 lovely follies on Day 9, 14 eggs were collected, 4 were usuable and only 2 fertlised, and only one kept growing beyond Day3. Surprisingly enough, no BFP - go figure - who would have thought (all those wonderful positive people who kept saying "It only takes one" -yeah right!!)
Spot the wonder boy (SWB) is so upbeat, he is sure it just a matter of time, and keeps mouthing helpful phrases like "you have to be in it to win it". Which I am sure is useful for a lotto ticket, but not so much for this IVF rollercoaster.
I have about 2 days to make up my mind ...
Ignoring the above, it turns out that my clinic can fit me again, if I decide to cycle again.
Pro's: Possible Baby
Con's: well, just about everything
My last cycle went so terribly badly that I am not sure that I am ready to trawl down this murky lane ever again. Out of 19 lovely follies on Day 9, 14 eggs were collected, 4 were usuable and only 2 fertlised, and only one kept growing beyond Day3. Surprisingly enough, no BFP - go figure - who would have thought (all those wonderful positive people who kept saying "It only takes one" -yeah right!!)
Spot the wonder boy (SWB) is so upbeat, he is sure it just a matter of time, and keeps mouthing helpful phrases like "you have to be in it to win it". Which I am sure is useful for a lotto ticket, but not so much for this IVF rollercoaster.
I have about 2 days to make up my mind ...
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