Monday, November 14, 2011
D-day
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.
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.
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
Transfer
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.
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.
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.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Transvaginal Ultrasound Wand, It's Been a While
Today C and I made the 90-minute trek up to the RE for a quick ultrasound to check out my uterine lining, and a quick blood draw to make sure I didn't ovulate. There were TWO babies in the waiting room, leading me to almost post to FB "two babies in the infertility waiting room: advertising, or inconsiderate?" (I didn't, though. And for the record, I didn't think it was inconsiderate, I could just see how someone else may have felt that way.) The ultrasound was the quickest I've ever had - probably about 30 seconds, tops. Lining looked good, OK, all done.
Next was the blood draw. Somewhere along the line someone decided that I don't do regular needles well, apparently, because the last several times I've been in there they've used a butterfly needle. I actually looked at it this time. (Usually I just look away, for no good reason, because they don't really freak me out that much but watching just doesn't sound like fun.)
And then we were done, and after picking up some very cheap progesterone (only $10 for 4 vials, with all the needles and the sharps container to boot!) we went back to a very busy office to await the nurse's call.
The phone rang late in the afternoon, which brought back sad memories, but the nurse was chipper. "Your progesterone was at 1.32, which is good, and you're all set to go! So decrease your estrace to 2 per day, and start your daily 2cc of progesterone tomorrow night." I asked about the level of progesterone doubling, which she said had to do with how my body is doing less work with the FET than it does with a fresh cycle, and needing more help. She also confirmed transfer day is November 4, and that they'd call the afternoon before with an appointment time.
After that we talked about the transfer itself. I have two vials that each have two day-6 embryos inside, and one vial of two day-5s. My doc had talked to me last month about how they were going to transfer two of the 6ers. But this morning during their team meeting (where they review everyone's protocols and talk about everything) the embryologist mentioned that the 5ers were in better shape than the 6ers. So the nurse asked for my consent to transfer the 5ers instead. It kind of worried me that the older ones looked worse than the younger ones - was that why the last cycle didn't work? Does that mean the 5ers will suffer the same fate, shriveling away after day 6? Only one way to find out.
Next was the blood draw. Somewhere along the line someone decided that I don't do regular needles well, apparently, because the last several times I've been in there they've used a butterfly needle. I actually looked at it this time. (Usually I just look away, for no good reason, because they don't really freak me out that much but watching just doesn't sound like fun.)
And then we were done, and after picking up some very cheap progesterone (only $10 for 4 vials, with all the needles and the sharps container to boot!) we went back to a very busy office to await the nurse's call.
The phone rang late in the afternoon, which brought back sad memories, but the nurse was chipper. "Your progesterone was at 1.32, which is good, and you're all set to go! So decrease your estrace to 2 per day, and start your daily 2cc of progesterone tomorrow night." I asked about the level of progesterone doubling, which she said had to do with how my body is doing less work with the FET than it does with a fresh cycle, and needing more help. She also confirmed transfer day is November 4, and that they'd call the afternoon before with an appointment time.
After that we talked about the transfer itself. I have two vials that each have two day-6 embryos inside, and one vial of two day-5s. My doc had talked to me last month about how they were going to transfer two of the 6ers. But this morning during their team meeting (where they review everyone's protocols and talk about everything) the embryologist mentioned that the 5ers were in better shape than the 6ers. So the nurse asked for my consent to transfer the 5ers instead. It kind of worried me that the older ones looked worse than the younger ones - was that why the last cycle didn't work? Does that mean the 5ers will suffer the same fate, shriveling away after day 6? Only one way to find out.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Back in the Saddle
I had a lovely break-cycle. I didn't think about IVF much, and C and I enjoyed ourselves.
But Friday it was back to business. I called the nurse to tell her it was time to start the FET cycle, and she gave me the new protocol:
Sunday, October 16th-20th: Estrogen 1x/day
October 21st-24th: Estrogen 2x/day
October 25th-28th: Estrogen 3x/day
Blood draw/ultrasound October 28th
If all looks good, estrogen 2x/day and 2cc progesterone starting October 29th, and the actual FET on November 4th.
Then a comedy of errors kicked off the weekend: because it was late in the afternoon on Friday, I asked the nurse twice to make sure she called my local pharmacy with the order right away because I wasn't sure if it was open on weekends. She assured me she was doing it right after the phone call, so after work I went straight to the pharmacy. The pharmacist hadn't gotten the order. So on Saturday morning (we had plans to go to Portland mid-morning) I called the pharmacy. They still hadn't gotten the order. I called the on-call doctor, who said she'd call it in. I waited for 45 minutes and called the pharmacy again (around 9:45). The audibly annoyed pharmacist still hadn't gotten the order, so she took my number and the doctor's number and told me she'd call me when it was ready.
Two hours later, I still hadn't heard from the pharmacy. I had an appointment in Portland in the late afternoon and I needed time to get up there, so I called the pharmacy again, intending to let them know I only had two more hours before I HAD to have the prescription, and they said the pills were ready. Upset that they'd never called me to let me know that, I ran to the pharmacy. "Oh, it's Megan!" the pharmacist said with a weird look when she gave me the estrogen. I thought that was odd until about ten minutes later, on our way out of town, when my phone suddenly beeped to let me know there was an incoming voice message. It was the pharmacy. They'd called at 9:55. And my phone hadn't gotten the message from the voice mail system until almost 1. No wonder the pharmacist talked to me like that - she thought I'd been nagging them because I was in a hurry and then didn't show up to the pharmacy for three hours after they'd hurried to get the prescription filled. Oops. Sorry, pharmacy. It wasn't my fault.
But Friday it was back to business. I called the nurse to tell her it was time to start the FET cycle, and she gave me the new protocol:
Sunday, October 16th-20th: Estrogen 1x/day
October 21st-24th: Estrogen 2x/day
October 25th-28th: Estrogen 3x/day
Blood draw/ultrasound October 28th
If all looks good, estrogen 2x/day and 2cc progesterone starting October 29th, and the actual FET on November 4th.
Then a comedy of errors kicked off the weekend: because it was late in the afternoon on Friday, I asked the nurse twice to make sure she called my local pharmacy with the order right away because I wasn't sure if it was open on weekends. She assured me she was doing it right after the phone call, so after work I went straight to the pharmacy. The pharmacist hadn't gotten the order. So on Saturday morning (we had plans to go to Portland mid-morning) I called the pharmacy. They still hadn't gotten the order. I called the on-call doctor, who said she'd call it in. I waited for 45 minutes and called the pharmacy again (around 9:45). The audibly annoyed pharmacist still hadn't gotten the order, so she took my number and the doctor's number and told me she'd call me when it was ready.
Two hours later, I still hadn't heard from the pharmacy. I had an appointment in Portland in the late afternoon and I needed time to get up there, so I called the pharmacy again, intending to let them know I only had two more hours before I HAD to have the prescription, and they said the pills were ready. Upset that they'd never called me to let me know that, I ran to the pharmacy. "Oh, it's Megan!" the pharmacist said with a weird look when she gave me the estrogen. I thought that was odd until about ten minutes later, on our way out of town, when my phone suddenly beeped to let me know there was an incoming voice message. It was the pharmacy. They'd called at 9:55. And my phone hadn't gotten the message from the voice mail system until almost 1. No wonder the pharmacist talked to me like that - she thought I'd been nagging them because I was in a hurry and then didn't show up to the pharmacy for three hours after they'd hurried to get the prescription filled. Oops. Sorry, pharmacy. It wasn't my fault.
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