Aspiration Cancelled

Cause the bitch is GONE.

I thought long and hard about how to write this post in a way that would melodiously lay out the details of the entire ordeal without revealing the conclusion until the very end. But when have I ever been that tactful?

So yes, the cyst is gone. HOT. DOG.

We rushed to our 1pm appointment yesterday (we got bumped) because despite the fact that I had reminded everyone and their mother that yesterday was daylight savings, I neglected to heed my own caution and forgot to set my clocks forward. And being the torrid pile of lethargy that I am, had only gotten out of the shower about ten minutes before we were actually supposed to leave. (12: 30pm) The reason that's a big deal is because it takes a beastly load of effort and dedication for me to not look like a slovenly hobo before I leave the house.

So we get there on time, only to sit in the waiting room for twenty minutes while some jackass ignores is obnoxiously loud seven year old son, who is jumping up and down in place trying to hit the top of the 6 foot high magazine rack. And as much as I wanted to poke both him and his father in the eye, if the dad had left the room for just half a second I would stuffed my sock in that kids mouth to muffle his screams while I grabbed him and took him home to be our new son. A nurse I had never seen before walked in to the waiting room and called my name. She took us back to a room that had already been prepped for my impending detonation. It was fairly terrifying to see all of the paraphernalia laid out. I don't know even know what half of the instruments were, but it made me think of a scene from Fire In The Sky where Travis Walton was... Anyway. It was scary though, believe me. 

Dr. 3 entered the room just briefly after I threw a tantrum because Brian couldn't think of anything to talk about while we waited, (Yay for Lupron doing enough to make me a raving bitch!) He shook both of our hands and didn't waste a second before grabbing the wand to "have a look at things first". 

Left side = Good. 
Lining = Good. (still at 4mm)
Femoral Artery = Working. (YEAH, I'VE SEEN IT BEFORE, MOVE ON.) 
Right side with cyst = ..... No cyst located. Ovary quiet. Antra follicle count = As expected. 

Yippe kai yay, mutha f-.

Dr. 3 said everything looked great and pending another E2 check, I'd be able to start stims asap.




Soooooooooo, I just got the call back from my nurse and my E2 was 26!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I START STIMS TOMORROW!!!

Hey Progesterone: You Suck.

Sorry for the delay, yesterday was super chaotic at work and by the time I got home I just didn’t have it in me to post. My morning began with another peculiar dream. Dr.3 was running late, so a nurse came in to instruct me on how to complete my own u/s. I checked my lining, it looked like… my uterus, I guess so that was good. But before I could move on to check for my whore-bag of a constant companion I was interrupted by another nurse who wanted to administer a rather unorthodox remedy for my situation. This part however, is truly too humiliating to describe. Even to you. But while I lay there on the table waiting for their remedy to cure my cyst, I noticed that Dr.3 was in the room working with another patient. This is where it got weirder. He was hunched over talking to the patient and his scrubs were just low enough on his backside that I could see he was wearing… a thong. The nurse cackled loudly while bringing it to his attention and they both ended up having a good chuckle about it. But I was, and am profoundly mortified by it even as we speak.. I was seriously still so disturbed by the image, that I could barely look him in the eye at my appointment. Oh, but there were no picture windows this time. Bonus.

In reality Dr. 3 was right on time and started the u/s without me having to lift a finger. But not before he complimented my polka-dot socks. Which he’s done more than once and I have to say I’m a little weirded out by it. Not because his mentioning my socks is in anyway inappropriate. I actually think it’s his way of breaking the ice – by being nice and offering a compliment. But I only recently started keeping my socks on during my stints in the stirrups, so I’m a little self-conscience about it. Honestly, up until last month I always removed my socks before an exam but one day before one of my other monitoring appointments while waiting for Dr. 3 to show, I had in internal debate over whether or not to take them off. But before I could make up my mind, Dr. 3 came in and effectively made the decision for me. Do you leave ‘em on, or take ‘em off? I digress.   So. My lining.  Down to 4mm, from 5mm last week. A very good sign. Left ovary – still politely behaving as expected. Righty, whom I’ve named Satan’s whore, still showed a large cyst. But it’s smaller it’s at 27.5 x 27.5, from 25.5 x 35.5. This is when I made my move. But instead of spewing my infertile rage at him I sheepishly confessed that I was extraordinarily frustrated with the now six week delay, and was hoping he’d be open to taking a more aggressive approach.  He then of course made me sorry for the desperately written rant filled with misguided anger that I published yesterday. He told me he had been baffled by this delay and truly felt that the cyst should have resolved itself considering the amount of Lupron I was on. He said in any other situation a person on my dosage of Lupron would have seen menopausal E2 levels a few weeks ago…

He explained further: Because my E2 levels dropped so significantly at my last appointment and based on the fact that my cyst measured smaller today, he had a feeling that my levels would show another substantial drop. The Estrogen was what was feeding the cyst – so that number going down would be a great indicator. He genuinely believes that my period will come in the next week. (I know, check’s in the mail, right?) But if it doesn’t he wants me to come back in so that he can aspirate it. He booked me for the appointment for next weekend to do so, still believing that AF will finally show before then.

Later in the afternoon the nurse called me with my E2 number. It’s 45. A very, very good thing- and exactly what Dr. 3 said would happen. However my Progesterone is at 1.7 (should be under 1.0), so at this point it’s the only thing that is holding up my period. The nurse explained that once my body realizes my Estrogen is so low, it will recognize get this: I’m not pregnant; my progesterone will drop and I’ll get my period… And at that point, I will be able to start stims right away. Or we aspirate the little fucker, my estrogen and progesterone drops – I get my period – then start stims.

None of those things are happening as quickly as I'd like but Dr. 3 prefers not to interfere if possible, and I was grateful for the time he spent with me yesterday to explain all that. A big thank you to all of you, who've been so supportive and put up with my schizo posting. You're thoughful comments have meant the world to me, I'm sorry I haven't been giving back as much as I'd like to in that department.

Coming Undone

I’m losing faith in this cycle.  And more than that, I’m losing faith in the concept of IVF ever making us a family to begin with… Nothing with Infertility ever seems to work out to be cut and dry. Nothing Textbook. Nothing as planned. At least for me, anyway.

I’m overwhelmed with the feeling that my journey here isn’t remotely close to coming to a conclusion. Intellectually I can comprehend the fact that three and a half years compared to a lifetime is relatively small stretch of time. But it is so fucking hard to keep any conviction in the fact that this awful period will be someday be a distant memory when you’re chest deep in the shittiest parts of it.

I'm just exhausted from all of this. Exhausted from not fitting in with my friends. From shots and pills, that aren’t making the slightest fucking difference. I’m forty five shots in and have nothing to show for it. Still. No. Period. I’m exhausted from pining and aching for this person I’ve never met. From dreaming about babies that will never be mine…

Since my period STILL hasn’t shown, I’ll be going in for another u/s and E2 check tomorrow as planned . I want to scream at Dr.3, and tell him whatever fucking method he was going by clearly isn’t working and he needs to figure this shit out. Quick. That I didn’t just hand him my life savings, but every ounce of faith, every dream and every part of me that aches to become a mother. And he needs to start treating me and this cycle as such. Like every bit of my happiness is resting on his shoulders. Because it is.  I’m tired of watching our future hanging in the balance. And wondering when or if it might fall.

But I won’t because I’m chicken shit, and as soon as my pants come off and that paper dress goes on my mind goes blank and all I can manage are simple phrases and sentence fragments. I sincerely hope this is the Lupron talking and not really my entire belief system crumbling before me. Because it sure fucking feels like it.

Of Voracity and Rage

My period is still MIA.

Today is CD23, precisely 15 days after I'm sure that thing ruptured. And I'm feeling, how shall I say it... A little punchy-stabby.

But if I'm being honest, I'd gauge it more along the lines of homicidal. It feels almost out of body. Like I can picture my rage in a box, and then I can see myself throwing my body over the top of it to protect those around me, lest it detonate and wipe out the greater Bay Area.

I'm hoping this is my body's way of saying "You're period will be here any second so you can get on with the debt-riddling-baby-making gig you've been planning on for the last 14 months, already..." Because I certainly don't think this has anything to do with Lupron. I've been on it for exactly 30 days now, without the slightest symptom (I'm lucky, I know). So this wrath is puzzling to me, because while I'm certainly capable of a little circumstantial rage, the volatility of my fury is very uncommon and just the slightest bit alarming.  

I'm also binging on sugar and grease like a suicidal junkie. I gave up all sources of caffeine including chocolate weeks ago, but the snarling voice in my head forced me to inhale half a bag of Valenti.nes Day Dov.e Chocolates that I got from the 50% off bin at the drug store. I am literally shaking from the excessive sugar and caffeine intake, but oddly enough I feel a little less like impaling the UPS guy with my letter opener, so I guess that's a step in the right direction.

I still don't understand what the hell is going on with my body. And there is literally nothing I can do until my period shows. Thanks for all of your thoughtful comments, now please send some menstrual thoughts my way because if things continue like this I fear for the safety of the people around me.

GOD SPEED AF, GOD SPEED.

When Will I Learn My Lesson?

It appears as though I've already followed through on my promise of setting a new standard for what would be considered "mentally unstable"... As I've just reread my last few posts and - Oy. 

While I understand there's no need for me to justify my reaction to the likes of you, I feel it necessary to document just how exactly the wheels fell off. 

Expectations. 

Expectations screw me every time. And the worst part is, I spent like a year in therapy examining my own situations to substantiate just how damaging expectations can be. 

And on top of that, as we were getting ready to start injections I lectured Brian about 'how shit goes wrong' with IVF cycles. 

They get delayed. They get cancelled.

Shit goes wrong, and it happens when you least expect it.

(earth-shattering news to all of you, I'm sure)

I know better. I listened intently to your advice. And to the counsel of a few close IF friends, who reminded me gently to take it one day, one shot at a time.  

And yet we hit the first rough patch and I lost every ounce of lucidity and balance. 

When will I learn my lesson?  

Probably never. 

But thankfully I have all of you to keep me in check. 

And thankful is an understatement. You've all been so incredibly supportive especially during this last week. Thank you for sharing your experience and knowledge. Your support has been invaluable.

Oh, hey, while I was seesawing in batshit crazy nation I got a few awards. But I was entirely to daft at the time to respond properly or thank the people who presented the awards.

A big thank you to the following ladies who thoughtfully bestowed these awards upon me. Many thanks, sorry it took me a millenia to get them posted.

Aramelle

Christa

Let There Be Sims

Krista

Sarah S

A Miracle 4 Us

So I'm supposed to thank the person(s) who gave me the award. Check! List seven things about myself, and pass the award on to 15 (aye carumba) other bloggers. Well gawd bless those of you who had the time to do all that. To be honest I haven't come across too many other blogs who haven't already received an award. That's because you're all awesome. But you knew that. 

So. Will you still love me if I just post the wacky fun facts about me? 

Oh well, here they are anyway.

1. I love the smell of Carbon Copy paper.

2. I just bought my first Cast Iron skillet. After I seasoned it properly, bacon was the first thing I cooked in it. It was Fantastic.

3. I won't leave the house without makeup on. Ever.

4.The last concert I attended was jack Johnson at the Berkeley Greek Theatre.

5. I hate the sound of pooring liquid.

6. I'm going to be 32 next month. Gah.

7. I hit 200 posts in December and my 3rd Blogiversary was last week. I was not entirely motivated to post about either of them because acknowledging them is bittersweet.

And a quick update. I saw my Acupuncturist Saturday and she believes that I did indeed ovulate . Apparently the pulse on your left side is stronger after ovulation. So good news there, and now I just wait for AF. AGAIN. 

Waiting It Out

I’m pretty sure I must have been a complete asshole in my past life. I’ve come to that conclusion because there is no other possible explanation as to why this cycle is going the way it is.

It’s taken me three days to write this post because I’m having a hard time breaking down the information enough so that my tiny brain can even process the basic facts, but here's what I've got.

On 1/25: My E2 was 346 (no u/s) which was CD2 for reference

On 1/27: Went back for an u/s which showed a cyst/follicle at 23mm, E2 was 414, Progesterone 2.0

Dr. 3’s Notes: Surprised that you were able to have a period while your E2 was so high.

Melissa’s notes: Fucking figures.

On 2/1: Morning u/s #2 shows an increase in size of cyst/follicle at 24.5 mm

Dr. 3’s Notes: We have to wait this out. Stay on 10 Units of Lupron. Call me when you get your period. Good luck with that.

Melissa’s Notes: Dr. 3 = Cyborg. All hope of having bio children fades. Break down -Open bottle of wine. Shortly after glass of Sauvignon Blanc I get pains similar to Ovulation. Of course.

On 2/2: Find out 2/1’s blood test results: E2 was 391, Progesterone 1.4 DOWN FROM 1/27. Email Dr.3 because the multitude of questions over what the crap is going on with this cycle is keeping me up at night.

The gist of that email went a little something like this:

Me: Am I being stimulated instead of suppressed by the Lupron? Could my lower E2 suggest that the follicle was getting ready to rupture? Is staying on the same dosage of Lupron possibly delaying the ultimate goal of getting this thing to mature and collapse? Will the Lupron shorten my luteal phase? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING???? SOMEBODY HOLD ME.

Dr. 3: You had one rogue follicle that was not suppressed by the Lupron. It will either mature and rupture on its own or the Lupron will suppress it and it will shrink. There is nothing you can do about it. There is nothing I can do about it. We have to let the meds and the follicle take its course. CALL  ME WHEN YOU GET YOUR PERIOD.

So that's it. I'm done. I'm exhausted and so is my Zen. I'm trying not to give myself a hard time for losing my shit over all of this, but I wish I could have processed everything with a little more grace. But graceful, I am not. And that's what makes me, me. So I'll call Dr. 3 when I get my period, and I'll do my best to catch my breath from here.  And I promise if more shit goes wrong with this cycle, I will set new standards for what it is to be considered "mentally unstable".

Namaste.

Still A No-Go.

The whore-bag cyst is not only still entirely present, but has grown another 1.5 mm. Putting her at a vast 24.5mm total. And my lining is growing like it would in a normal cycle. Fuck.

I am so incredibly disappointed.

Dr.3 wants to wait it out, so I’ll be staying on the ten units of Lupron. Which by the way, makes no fucking sense to me at all. Why would we do anything to prohibit or suppress this thing from maturing/rupturing??? And if the Lupron isn't suprressing me enough, than staying on it is really just slowing the down the inevitable right??? I wish I could say I thought to ask him all this, but I was concentrating on not bursting into tears and looking like a complete douche. 

Yeah, he’s the RE and I’m not, and I do trust him entirely – but dammat I really wanted to be given a plan of attack if it got to this point. It’s been five days since my last u/s and I’ve had follicles get at least as big as 27mm, so at the rate I’m going it could be another ten days before this thing ruptures. And on top of that he wants me to have another period before we move forward. He checked my lining during the u/s and it’s thickening up like it normally would because of the high levels of estrogen and progesterone.  He did explain that we’re not looking at another 30 day wait for my period, it’s more likely to be 6-10 days before I bleed again (if that thing collapses soon). But that is very little consolation considering that today should have been my first monitoring appointment, and my retrieval could have been this weekend.

I can’t even explain the level of disappointment I’m feeling right now.

This fucking blows.