These Eggs Were Made For Hatchin'

Today's ultrasound appointment showed some major follicle growth. DH called me a hen today when I told him about the numbers of eggs in waiting they found. Hopefully, things are kicking into gear and we may do an egg retrieval on Thursday. Mature eggs are around 16, mine look like this:

Left: 16.5, 14.5, 13.5, 13, 12, 12, 12, 9
Right: 15, 11, 3 big cysts

Not sure what the bloodwork result is yet. The nurse had to really dig for the vein again today, chirping, "ohh, you're right, they really do roll away." If she had not already speared my arm, I would have given her the shut-up-and-focus look. It appears they will have to draw blood every day until retrieval. I was told if they could not get a vein in my arm they will try my leg or foot. Makes me wince just thinking about it.

In light of the current follicle growth, I have decided to become a very positive thinker. I have maligned this cycle from the beginning, dousing it with negative energy, imagine what will happen if I pour on some positive energy.

I will be the picture of positive thinking (or craziness)
Fingers in the ears, humming,

*These eggs were made for hatching
And that's just what they'll do,
One of these days these eggs are gonna
Hatch right into 2*
(Twins, that is. thinking big.)

More later.

The Little Ovaries that Could

I've written this post 3 times since Tuesday and deleted them all. I've been going to the doctor for bloodwork and ultrasounds at the crack of dawn, every other day, for a week. Every day that I have a monitoring appointment, I wait until the late afternoon for the results, then I'm too tired and bummed to post, so I leave it for the next day . The next day comes and I begin to think that surely tomorrow's appointment will have a different outcome, so I ponder that all day and try to write about it in the evening, only to delete the post because I figure everything will change at the appointment tomorrow morning. Is this making sense? Forgive me, I just have to post the craziness that has been my life this past week. If it's hard to follow, maybe you could just reread this slowly, then bookmark the page, and the next time you have insomnia, read this post - it will surely put you to sleep.

My eggs are growing slower than a two-legged turtle. I've been on medication for 13 days and and my biggest follicle is 13. It should be around 20. They are not mature until 18 which means I've got at least 2 more days of medication in front of me. The doctors keep telling me to continue the meds and come back in two days to see how things are progressing. I've reached the point in my cycle where the shots in the stomach don't bother me, it's worrying if they will be able to find a vein to draw blood from that keeps me up at night. I've been blessed with rolling veins which means the nurses do all sorts of digging and holding of veins while (not so) delicately trying to spear one with a pointy implement. I'm the patient the nurses hate to see. I can tell. They often double-team me, two people, smacking my inner elbows, making me squeeze various spongy things to get the blood nice and plump in my tiny bloody highways. The first one takes a poke, digs around to no avail, pokes again, digs around to no avail. Finally, nurse #2 says she thinks she sees a good one, poke, dig, more digging...success. Its a nightmare. And my next one is tomorrow morning at 7am.

Thus far, the verdict on this cycle is: there is no verdict.
I don't really know anything except my ovaries are trying to get up that great big hill we call the Follicular Phase. They are being all dramatic about it, coughing and sputtering. I can hear them now,
I think I can
I think I can
I think I can

I never liked that story anyway. I always wanted to say,
"Shut up already, quit with the 'I think I can' save your energy and get up the stupid hill."

Will keep you posted.

Wanted: Positive Attitude

In true form, the nurse left me a message and gave me an incomplete bloodwork report chirping, "call me back if you have any questions." She called right before the nursing lines were turned off for the evening. Her message did not address converting the cycle to an iui. She simply said my estrogen is going up steadily and I'm supposed to continue my medication. Rising estrogen is good, I'm happy. I will go back tomorrow morning for another blood draw and ultrasound.

This cycle is very different than my first ivf. My current follicles are growing very slowly thanks to my drug du jour, Lupron. This is a good thing because follicles that grow too quick are often poor quality. My fingers are crossed that this drug combination is my golden ticket. It is just so hard to be positive.
I need a mantra, suggestions are welcome.

Updates and Overdoses

Had some bloodwork and ultrasounds done this weekend and my response to the current medication is less than stellar. I have 5 good follicles on my left side, but my right ovary has a cyst and 2 endometriomas on it. Don't ask me what an endometrioma is. I haven't googled yet. I know I've had them before, I think they are related to endometriosis.

The nurse will call me back later today with my blood estrogen level. This information will tell us how useful the 5 follicles are. This ivf cycle may turn into another artificial insemination if I don't get more follicles soon. I am fine with converting the cycle. I'd rather wait for better follicle results before undergoing egg retrieval again. The downside to converting is, I'll be cycling over the summer and I had hoped to be drug-free for a few months while I'm on summer break (I'm a teacher.)

Almost forgot to tell you about the weekend drama. I used the wrong syringe and gave myself a mega dose of Lupron Saturday night. I'm supposed to take .1 cc and I took about .4 cc. Had to page the doctor and confess my stupidity on Sunday morning. She was very nice about the whole thing. Turns out there was no real harm done. Just gave myself a whopper of a headache and a good story for the grandkids.

Will check in soon with bloodwork results. I'm on the fence about this cycle so please just cross fingers that the doctor in the office today has the wisdom to make the right call.
Many Thanks.

Needles R Us

No more Lupron headaches, knock on wood. I've started my two other medications, follistim and luveris which means I'm up to 5 shots per day. My abdomen is starting to get bruised. I give myself all my shots, DH refuses, says I'm too much of a control freak. The bruising doesn't bother me because every once in a while, for shock value, I flash him my purple and blue stomach. He naturally feels sorry for me and that's usually good for a nicely cooked dinner or an ice cream run. I know, some of you nice gals probably think that is very manipulative of me, frankly, I agree. But, there is really no harm done, is there? And, need I remind you, if I didn't get my chocolate shake, I could get downright dangerous. So, really I'm doing DH a favor, right?

Okay you don't necessarily have to agree with that, but do you at least feel my pain? Poking sharp metal objects into my body certainly gets easier as time goes on, but the "ick factor" never goes away. We spend our lives avoiding sharp metal objects. Now, I fight with pharmacies to send me more, more, more! More needles, bigger needles, fatter needles- I need Needles! And a chocolate shake every now and then, so sue me.


*These are some of the needles I use during a cycle. The remote is there for perspective. Remember, the needles have to go all the way in. No big deal for the little ones, its that big guy on the bottom that makes me feel woozy when I look at it.

Score: Lassie 1, Lupron 0

I've started my Lupron shots. For months, I've heard legends about the headaches that come from Lupron, let me tell you folks, its all true. I got a splitting headache while leaving the grocery store today. It was the kind of headache that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your eyes. My body alternated between hot and cold flashes as my mind tried to forget about the stabbing pain in my forehead that dripped down my face and made my gums feel weak.

Not being allowed to take any strong medicine, I avoided the drug dealer on the corner whose wares looked appallingly appetizing considering the amount of pain I was in. Instead, I fervently searched the house for the only thing I'm allowed to take, Tylenol. Not believing it would work, I took two. Forty-five minutes later, the pain was gone. This was, indeed, a Lupron-induced episode because my normal migraines don't respond at all to Tylenol.

And that is how Day 1 of ivf #2 went. On a positive note, I treated myself to a new booklight today so, I'm off to snuggle under my comfy blanket and read the last chapter of my semi-trashy novel. Life is good, right now, at this moment, I'm happy. I wish I could bottle it and save it for when the going gets tough, instead, I will enjoy the peaceful respite while it lasts.

...And We're Off!

A quick update to let my peeps know ivf #2 has officially started. I had bloodwork and an ultrasound done today. Bloodwork showed great hormone levels. The ultrasound showed clear ovaries, no cysts, with 16 antral follicles. Antral follicles are basically very early potential eggs. They may all grow into nice, plump, healthy eggs, but then hell would freeze over and pigs would start to fly so, to avoid the mayhem and greediness, I'm simply hoping for a few good eggs from this crop.

Cross all your bits for me. Gut shots start tonight, I'll let you know how it goes. To those that follow this sort of thing, I'm doing an MDL straight start cycle, high dose fsh with possible pgd. Translation: tiny shots the first few days, adding the big guns in near the weekend then sending a few cells off to Maryland to do some time under a microscope to see just how good/bad my eggs really are.

Sounds like fun, huh? Let the obsessing begin!

Happy Fertility Day!

It's Easter for most of the Christian world. I happen to be Orthodox so we will celebrate next week, but any way you look at it, there is positively NO ESCAPING images of EGGS and BUNNIES! Normally, I'm a fan of all things cute and fuzzy, this year however, not so much. Bunnies and eggs, how did I miss it all these years, this is a FERTILITY holiday! This is an excerpt from an article I found online today,

"Easter falls in the spring, the yearly time of renewal, when the earth renews itself after a long, cold winter. The word Easter comes to us from the Norsemen's Eostur, Eastar, Ostara, and Ostar, and the pagan goddess Eostre, all of which involve the season of the growing sun and new birth. The Easter Bunny arose originally as a symbol of fertility, due to the rapid reproduction habits of the hare and rabbit."

See, I told you, a FERTILITY Holiday. I always wondered how a bunny got connected to Jesus. Now we know, FERTILITY. As I've found out in the last 4 years, fertility is behind everything. There is simply no getting away from it. Lets play a game, name something and I'll connect it to fertility (Kind of like the Kevin Bacon game where you name an actor and connect them back to Kevin Bacon demonstrating that Kevin Bacon is the center of the entertainment universe.) Since we don't have the luxury of your real time input, I'll just throw out a few words that come to mind and play the game solo. No, I won't cheat, I will really give the words that pop into my mind.

Skyscraper (as in tall office building)--> phallic (enough said)

Macintosh --> apple --> Adam and Eve -->birth of the human race

New York --> Big Apple --> See above

Rain --> Native American Rain Dance --> Native American Fertility Dance

Can you see where this is going?

So, now I sulk and watch the annoying Ty Pennington on Extreme Home Makeover, where beautiful people take on fixer-upper homes thereby changing the lives of the families that live in them. Here's my question, when will they come up with Extreme Uterine Makeover?

Oh yeah Ty baby, have I gotta fixer-upper for you.


*Note to reader (and God): I'm really not anti-Easter, only anti-Easter Bunny. Thank goodness Jesus was resurrected because he'd turn over in his grave if he knew what Easter has turned in to...

There Goes the Neighborhood

I leisurely walked into my living room this morning when I was confronted with the most appalling thing on the sidewalk outside, The-grumpy-lady-who-walks-the-yellow-lab is...Pregnant. Arrgh! There she was, tall, willowy, in a darling little maternity blouse covering her slightly swollen belly, (still scowling I should add) talking on the cell phone walking her perfectly pedigreed dog. In the past, I've tried to get her to smile, say hello, act like she is not a robot- to no avail. Then, I had a brainstorm, maybe she has been infertile this whole time and it's been so devastating she couldn't be pleasant. I had to test my theory, I took my dogs for a walk. I ran into her. I got nothin'. Nada. Not a smile. Not a glance. She was totally absorbed in her cell phone call with that perpetual scowl. For gosh sakes lady, you're pregnant, lighten up.

My walk this morning really made me see the difference between The-grumpy-lady-who-walks-the-yellow-lab (GLWWYL) and I. She's always on the cell phone while walking her well-behaved dog. I, on the other hand, use both hands to hold Fidget's leash and tap Schuster to remind him we are walking. (He is getting pretty senile and tends to forget things so about every 3 steps, he stops and looks around like, "Where the heck am I?") We are in such stark contrast, GLWWYL and I. She is tall, thin and drives a LandRover (in downtown Chicago where off-roading means taking the ALLEY.) I've said before, I'm 5'2", not thin and drive a hand me down Honda. And I smile, all the time. She always looks miserable. I felt sorry for her the first few years we were in the neighborhood. Then, her grumpiness just got annoying, so now I ignore her. Until today, that is. I watched her with the gross fascination of watching a train wreck. GLWWYL is pregnant. How did this happen? Surely, she eats lemons for breakfast while I've been on a no sugar, no caffeine, low carb, no wheat, low fat, Russian herb, Chinese tea diet for 3 years. What's a gal got to do to get pregnant these days? Eat lemons and ignore the neighbors? If so, I'm all over it. Pass the lemons please. Why, Why, Why?

Why
Not
Me?

*Note to the reader: I'm really not a GLWWYL hater. Just bummed out that someone else got pregnant before me. I know GLWWYL probably has a good reason to never smile. She may be dealing with terrible issues that don't allow her to relax. I get it. I'm really not judging her, just using my blog as a place to vent. If I don't do it here, one day I might just walk up to her and say "snap out of it" and that's not very neighborly at all. So, I vent, please forgive.

You Want a Piece of Me!?

Them's fightin' words and they are flyin' round the house these days. I'm on a natural cycle which means no medical intervention at all, just trying for a baby the good old fashioned way. Unfortunately, after almost 4 years of doctors trying to get me pregnant, DH and I almost forgot how to attempt this on our own. Of course, 15 minutes of primetime tv watching will quickly tell us how babies are made (can you believe the things they are putting on tv today?) But, I digress, basically, I think we forgot how to be a nice, happy, supportive-of-each-other couple. Let me be more specific, I've forgotten how to play nice. I've been so irritable since my failed ivf, I can barely stand myself. DH hasn't been Mr.NiceGuy either, but I'll stick to my own faults today.

This past week, I've been grumpy, bored and a cleaning maniac. The latter of which frightens the bejeezus out of DH. When I get on a cleaning streak, he dives under his desk and waves a white flag before the trigger on the windex is unlocked. I seem to have a special radar that allows me to walk into a room and zero in on the items DH has left out of place. If I were to dissect this behavior, I'd say I was trying to maintain as much control as possible since infertility can make one feel totally out of control.

Whatever the cause, I wish I could go back to feeling like myself again. I'm not sure that will happen anytime soon and after so many years of infertility, I'm beginning to forget what the old me was like. Guess I'd better watch my use of the phrase, "You want a piece of me?" I've already lost too many pieces to infertility, pretty soon there will be nothing left.

Family Album

I've been pretty quiet lately, not posting much. Been spending most of my time with this motley crew. This group started out with our cat Simon, who shows his dislike for computers by sitting on them until they cry Uncle. Back in the day, he used to walk all over the newspaper I was reading, now that I'm online way more than I ever read a proper newspaper, he's taken to sitting on the keyboard.

After having Simon for a few years, we saw a dog hanging out on our street corner, obviously a stray. Yep, I'm one of those people who take in strays. (Simon was rescued from a junkyard when he was just a kitten.) The dog on the right, our "old guy", was 12 years old when we found him on the corner. He's now 17 and we call him Schuster. Simon and Schuster had our tiny home overflowing with energy for several years.

Then, this past fall, a relative gave us their 12 year old black lab named Roc. Roc was a great big dog with lots of love to give. He was with us only 2 months before he passed away. I won't go into the story now, it's still pretty upsetting. Suffice it to say, Roc was ill when he came and we just couldn't make him better.

After Roc passed away, the house felt very empty. Schuster really enjoyed the canine company. Since he's getting up in years, 17 is very old for dogs, we decided it was time to consider getting another dog. *Afterall, we had the time and energy to give since we don't have to worry about getting pregnant.* I kept my eye on the streets for months looking for our next companion. I never saw a dog I could catch. DH went to our anti-cruelty rescue center with instructions to bring home a little, sweet, quiet dog or simply the dog that "spoke" to him. I emphasized the "little and quiet" part of the equation hoping he would focus on those dogs and find one that felt like a good fit. He came home with the dog above. He said she was the only dog jumping around her cage, barking loudly to get their attention, as if she chose them as soon as they walked in. DH said she literally "spoke" to them. We call her Fidget. She is NEVER still. Fidget is the kind of dog that gets so excited on walks, passersby cross the street to avoid her. She doesn't look scary, just joyfully uncontrollable. Simon and Fidget are starting to get along. They often do a slow-speed chase around the house. Simon saunters and Fidget is right on his heels trying to sniff his tail. It's a love/hate relationship at this point.

These are the beings that occupy my time. Schuster's health is declining, we don't expect him to be around much longer, (although we've been saying that for 2 years.) Even though we don't have children yet, our home is already full. Throughout infertility, this brood has taken away our sadness and reminded us that life goes on even after a failed cycle. They breathe life back into our home when DH and I are so upset it hurts to breathe. They drive me crazy and keep me sane. DH, affectionately, calls them The Beasts, I call them Blessings.