FET Time

I talked to the RE today over the phone about the next steps. Our conversation was kind of weird at first; I was on his speakerphone and I could hear him typing as he talked to me, and when he talked to me it was all stilted like he was thinking about something else. Then he abruptly had to hang up because he got an emergency page.

Five minutes later he called back and everything was much better - he was paying attention to what he was saying and he made more sense. He apologized for the IVF failure; he said he was very surprised based on how well the rest of the cycle went, and he was very optimistic for this FET. Then he had a lot of questions: do I want to take only estrogen pills or estrogen pills and Lupron? (5% of patients who take only estrogen ovulate, which means the FET must be canceled, but Lupron is an extra $600 and he doesn't usually recommend it. That was cool with me - only taking a pill and not having to make C poke me with Lupron needles - yay!) Do I want to thaw more if one of the two embryos they thaw die? (Yes!) If the second vial containing two embryos is thawed and both live, do I want him to transfer all three embryos? (Yes, if I have a better chance of success.) He told me to call with my next cycle (he likes to give patients a cycle between to kind of calm down, organ-wise) and we would get going again.

It ended up being a relatively quick phone call, but it was nice to feel like we're picking up and moving on. I'm still not sure exactly what I think about transferring three, even though part of me is still not optimistic about this second chance. I would hate to be thrown from the position of not-being-able-to-get-pregnant to the position of being-pregnant-with-too-many and having to decide what to do about it. But I also don't want to waste embryos, especially if that third popsicle was the one that was going to make me a mama.

On the Mend

I feel leaps and bounds better now. I think I scared some family members when they read my last couple of posts, and I guess I can see why - I was so optimistic, and so happy, and then when I crashed I crashed hard. Sorry about that.

I feel so lucky - I have such a great support system, and I'm so lucky. C and I have both gotten telephone calls and encouraging emails. My aunt called last night (we don't talk very often, so it was nice to hear from her) and she helped so much. And time helps too. Today I spent time with my grandma and I talked about future children again as if I was back in July, with hopefulness and happiness for the future. I allowed myself a few days to be bitter and unhappy and angry at the world, but I feel like I've officially picked myself back up to try again. Although this time I'm treading a little heavier; I feel like I'm not bursting in on this cycle singing and throwing flowers. I'm more tiptoeing and looking around suspiciously. But at least I'm moving forward.

Babymaking: Nailed It

Two days.

Physically, everything is back to normal - my period arrived yesterday as if nothing has been happening the past six weeks, Sharpie rectangles on my backside which showed C where to stab me with progesterone needles are faded to almost nothing, the mark on my arm where the pregnancy test blood was taken is healing, my belly is back to its normal size.

Emotionally, I feel like the physical normalcy is nyah, nyah-ing at me. I superstitiously kept my Diva cup out during the 6 weeks of IVF, "just in case," even though I was sure I should just put it away for a year. Using it yesterday was sad. I don't feel like I'm grieving the way that I did the first day, but I still feel lonely, defeated, frustrated, and bitter. I wonder about the other lady who had a transfer on the same day as me. Did she get good news?

The people around me are mostly supportive. My coworker who'd gotten pregnant accidentally and took weeks before she could announce her pregnancy to anyone without crying - she hasn't said anything to me, even though I know the news spread like wildfire after we left work in a teary rush. I texted my sister yesterday and said "did you see that I wrote on Facebook that the test was negative?" and she replied "yes. I just didn't really know what to say." That was kind of hurtful. Most everyone else has been nice. I know it's hard and awkward to have to interact with someone who's hurting. I feel that way myself. So my rational brain forgives and forgets, but my lonely, defeated, frustrated and bitter brain wants to slap them. Even though I know that's wrong.

We have a follow-up telephone appointment with the doctor on Tuesday. I'm going to tell him I want to do the frozen transfer right away. And really, the only reason I want to do it is that our financial package is for a fresh and a frozen cycle, and I want to get my money's worth. I'm not doing it because I think it's going to work. All of the optimism I had during IVF is completely gone; now I just want to get the FET over with.

Negative

They were supposed to call me after 1:30. They didn't call me until 3. As the time ticked on I knew what my quiet phone meant. When it finally rang C and I dashed into the hallway to hide from coworkers.

"I'm so sorry I don't have better news..."

C got my purse and we left without a word. Home now, in bed, trying to think happy thoughts. I get to have a beer at Oktoberfest this weekend! I get to stop being poked in the rear with needles! I get to try this again (with frozen embryos) one more time before we have to take a 3-year break to pay off the IVF loan before we can try a third time!

But really I'm thinking mostly things like I don't know what went wrong and I feel broken and like I'm not meant to have kids; that I should stop trying because it won't work a second time if it didn't work the first time. That I have to have done something terrible in a past life and now I'm destined to be punished by having to watch everyone around me get pregnant accidentally and easily, and then ask if I want to hold their babies with my barren little arms.

Eve

I've been coping so well during the big Two Week Wait. Last week I was easily able to push it out of my head because it was too far in the future for me to think too much about, and I had to prepare for the renaissance faire. Then this weekend (plus Friday) I was running non-stop from gig to gig at the faire, in the 95+ degree weather, sweating through my corset. I got home Sunday night and took a shower (post-faire showers are the BEST) and got all the dirt and sweat off of me, and got into bed and realized test day was three days away and had a good cry. Of course, most of the cry was from being exhausted, but it was the beginning of the nervousness that I knew would pervade the rest of the Wait.

Yesterday and today were better; I was busy at work and was able to keep my mind off of it for the most part. And now tonight, I don't want to go to bed.

Tomorrow morning the lab opens at 7:30 and I'll be there waiting at the door. (I don't have to go all the way to the fertility clinic, thank goodness, I can just do the test in town.) Then they have to fax my clinic the results and then my clinic will call me at some point during the afternoon, after 1:30, with the results. (Yay for at least six hours of pins and needles!)

I have a good feeling about this, but I'm trying so hard not to get my hopes up. Everybody else says they're sure it'll be positive, because what else are you supposed to say to an IVF patient who's on the verge of finding out whether it worked. And I know that no matter how well I keep my feelings in check before the call, if the answer is no I'll have the same reaction.

Here's to a quick Wednesday, whatever the outcome. I'm ready for this chapter to be over.

Seven More Days

I told myself I wouldn't think about it, but I am. Of course. Do they like it in there? Are they happy? And why can't I feel it yet? In my head I know that's so silly, that the progesterone isn't giving me sore breasts and so the lack of sore breasts doesn't mean anything. I'm keeping myself busy with work, and this weekend with the faire, and the time will fly by; but of course down in the depths I'm wondering if they've found a nice little cozy spot to hang on and grow. Grow, little guys, grow!

Sonogram

Here is a photo of the ultrasound at the moment of transfer. If you click through to Flickr and hover over that photo you'll see notes that kind of help explain things, but the black mass on the top and down the right side is my giant unhappy bladder, and the bulbous thing on the lower half is the uterus with the cervix off to the right. In the center of the uterus is a horizontal line: that's the catheter as it's transferring the embryos.