Friday, November 18, 2011


Finally my period has started. Even with the "definitively negative" phone call, I still had the tiniest hope in the back of my mind that it might be a false negative. It's good to KNOW know.

We had our debrief with the doctor over the phone yesterday morning. He wasn't very helpful, and we weren't surprised. He said lots of people think that when it doesn't work, it's a rejection issue; but usually it's more likely that it's a problem with the embryo's genetics. He mentioned the possibility of genetic testing, but didn't ask if we wanted to do it. He also mentione the fibroids he saw in my ultrasound back at the beginning of the process; he said that might be a cause of decreased chances of implantation. But I find it hard to believe that a few fibroids that he didn't care about back then could be the cause of our negative tests now.

Then he brightened, and said "you know what I think? I think we should be aggressive with this next try. I think we should transfer all four embryos, and then reduce if we need to. What do you think?" I said sure, go ahead and put that in my file, but we are out of money so we're taking a break. I didn't tell him that our break will most likely last forever. With OHSU's success rates the way they are, there's not much of a reason to sink more money into them.

So today the plan is to wait for two years or until we can pay off either the car or the failed IVF, and then start fresh with Oregon Reproductive Medicine, which has an amazingly good success rate - I think I read over 10% higher for a fresh cycle than OHSU. They also have a money-back plan which looks pretty attractive right now too. And in the meantime, C will do another semen analyis and see if anything has changed, and we'll be back to timing more natural tries.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


I am just totally, hopelessly sad tonight. I cried for so long that C fell asleep in the middle of it and here I sit, still, just overwhelmed with sadness.

Monday, November 14, 2011


Well, I don't feel as horrible as I did last time. Maybe it's because I was steeling myself for it. Maybe because it was less invasive than last time. Maybe because I didn't have that blind optimism I had the first time around.

Now we have to figure out what to do. I have four embryos left, but they're of lower quality than the ones we transferred. I doubt my RE will tell me whether I should even try with the lower quality ones or if we should just try again with new eggs and sperm. Or try something else.

Or I could go with another clinic. One of the things I've been beating myself up about this afternoon is not going with the clinic that had higher success rates. At the time, the only reason I went with my current RE clinic is because they had an earlier consultation appointment available, and I didn't want to pay another $400 to go to the other clinic's consult too; and I frankly thought that once we did ICSI I'd be pregnant like that. Why oh why was I so optimistic? (Because I had no option to hindsight!)

I guess either way I have to wait, because another FET isn't covered in my current financial package so that'd be another few thousand dollars out of pocket, and switching to the other clinic would be another $10-15 grand. We MIGHT be able to figure out how to do another FET relatively soon, but switching is out of the question until we get the current failures paid off.

Well, at least they called earlier this time.

Negative. Again.


Well, here we are. Stood in in the rain waiting for the lab to open with about eight men, and was second in line for my blood draw. The phlebotomist was nice; we chatted a little about IVF. (I think I didn't look very excited, which made her ask me "so are you hoping for a positive or a negative test?") She taped a cotton ball to the inside of my elbow and sent me on my way. (I hate the tape, it always takes arm hairs with it when it gets peeled off.)

I'm strangely calm right now and I realized it's because I don't WANT to know. Throughout the year that we tried naturally, I think I took only one pregnancy test. I just don't want to hear bad news and I'm so sure it's bad news.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Two week waits suck. And my wait isn't even ten days.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a double baby shower at work. I brought a hat-in-progress with me (I have a tiny skein of only 185 yards, so after much searching I finally found a knitted beret that would work) because I had a feeling I would need something to keep my hands busy, and I'm glad I did. The first little while was fine; even watching them open their gifts; but then everyone started in with the advice and the questions (things like "so how do you think the big day will go?") and I had to knit really fast to calm my thoughts. (My coworkers are great, and I was happy to go and support them at their shower, and of course they shouldnt take my fast-knitting personally, heh.)

It was kind of a downward spiral from there; now all I can think about is Monday afternoon and the phone call with bad news. I keep sitting quietly, barely breathing, trying to feel as hard as I can. Just like last time, there's nothing. Of course. Because it has only been five days. But in the back of my mind is that little voice that says you didn't feel anything last time, and you weren't pregnant. So you know what not feeling any symptoms THIS time means!

I don't make our IVF a secret among most people; C and I are just fine with sharing it. But now I'm in this weird place where I hate to bring it up to people because I imagine they think "oh jeez, again with the infertility talk?" But it's like opening the door to a dryer that's too-full of clothes. My thoughts tumble out through the cracks. I just can't wait for this to be over so I don't feel like I have to share all of my insecurities and desperation with anyone who stops near me long enough for my dryer door to open.

Friday, November 4, 2011


Things were pretty hectic leading up to transfer today. C and I both went to work for the first four and a half hours, and he had a meeting up until noon on the dot. We stopped at Starbucks and then hit the road. It was after Starbucks that C remembered that they wanted us there at 1:30 and not 2. So some speed may have been picked up. Sort of. Because we kept getting stuck behind car after car. Usually when we go up, traffic isn't that heavy, but I think Friday afternoon may have had something to do with it.

We were only five minutes late when we missed the exit. Yes, we, who have been to that clinic a dozen times, missed the freaking exit. So I frantically whipped out my phone to map out how to turn around. The directions included driving on a road that was closed. So we had to detour. When we finally parked a block away, the meter wouldn't take my coins. We finally showed up at 1:45. (And then the nurse took my blood pressure and asked if I was nervous. Nope, just freaked out for a half an hour and then ran up here, no biggie.)

I got onto the table and the nurse did an ultrasound. And of course, the empty bladder struck again - the 27 ounces of water I'd had were not enough. So she gave me two more cups and after I downed 'em and waited five minutes, the bladder looked OK. (Woo!) So in came the doctor.

The transfer itself was quick and easy. The embryologist had spoken with us before the ultrasound to tell us we had two 3AB-grade embryos, our two 5-dayers, that both made it just fine out of their frozen slumber. (Vitrification apparently has much higher survival rates than regular ol' cryopreservation.) In they went, and then I lied there for half an hour.

And I'm proud to say, I did NOT have to use the bedpan. :D In fact, it wasn't unbearable until I had about ten minutes left.

And then we were done!

I cried a little half-tear when they were finished; same as last time; and I felt super relaxed afterwards. I was surprised; last night was rough emotionally and I figured that I'd still be that way afterwards, trying to protect myself from the results of the pregnancy test, but I was happy and hopeful again. Of course, I keep going back and forth, being excited and then trying to keep myself in check. But positivity is always good.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

One More Day

Transfer is tomorrow.

I don't want to go. I feel like a little kid waiting for the wooden spoon to come down hard on my bare bottom; dreading it and wincing in advance of the pain. I don't want this to fail. If it does, that's it, no more chances for at least three years. There's so much riding on this transfer tomorrow and I've been so good about not caring up until now. Or at least pushing it out of my mind. But now I think about it (and I can't stop thinking about it) and just want to cry.