I'll Take "Financial Ruin" for $16,000, Please.

I had a conference call with our clinic's financial coordinator yesterday. Oy Vey, does this part suck.

This when the "oh yeah, this costs an assload of money" light bulb turned on. Not that I ever really forgot about it, but I'm wrapped up and snuggly in the idea that I might be pregnant in a few months so the rule of "Eyes on the prize" has jurisdiction over my brain. And my heart for that matter.

I don't talk about the financial side of this nightmare all that much here, mostly because I have a select few IRL friends and family that read this and I don't want them to feel bad, or like they should be doing anything other than supporting us emotionally - which if they have access to this blog they've clearly done an exceptional job at. I'm also a big believer in not discussing politics, religion, and specifics on finances (all to a certain degree). Really those topics just make things incredibly crunchy for me.

But in the true spirit of record keeping, and doing my best not to sensor myself , I find that I am overwhelmed with the urge to write about this. Mostly because I'm really struggling with it emotionally. We're going to be financing at least half of our IVF costs, and I constantly have to keep validating our decision to move forward to myself because technically, we do not have the money to do this.

If you've been reading my blog long enough you know that part of the reason we went the donor route before is because it was a lot more feasible financially. Which probably sounds callous but, after a few months of therapy I realized that our financial security is incredibly important to my sense of security in general, which translates to my overall well being. Not to mention how much of a burden finances can be on a marriage. And well, Infertility alone has already gone platinum on our asses so we won't be needing anymore of that, will we... We live very modestly. We haven't taken a real vacation since 2005. i.e. more than a long weekend that didn't involve a tent or the redeeming of hotel/airfare points, or bunking up with someone. Though our house was a big purchase it was a financially sound move.

Is it ridiculous that I'm still struggling with this so much, that I still feel the need to justify it even to a group of folks like you who totally get it?

I have to keep telling myself that this is a reasonable thing to go into (more) debt for.

That not spending beyond our means shouldn't apply to our dream of having a family.

That we can always make more money, but our window for having biological children is literally getting smaller every month.

So here's the actual genesis for this post: We will qualify for a 10% discount, but it can only be applied to a bare-bones IVF cycle that won't include medications (of course), extra monitoring ultrasounds during stims if needed; Cryo Preservation for the first year; or subsequent FET's (if the fresh cycle fails). So if the fresh cycle doesn't work it could end up costing us at least $3,500 more, not including meds.

Orrrrrrrrrr

We could pay $6k+ more for for the Two cycle program in which we would get first a fresh IVF cycle with unlimited monitoring, then FET's until we run out of embryo's. If all of that fails to get me to twelve weeks then we would be given another fresh cycle, and again as many FET's until we run out of embryo's, And it covers the first year of Cryo preservation storage.

So we can spend less (which we have the liquid cash for) on a BIG gamble, or sell a kidney to come up with the money to take less of a risk of us walking away without a baby...

Both options sort of suck. But either way, Top Ramen is starting to sound better and better.

Taking The Long Way

Hey kids, sorry for all the drama on my last post. I sort of forgot what it was like to have no control over my life whatsoever. Ahhh infertility, you haphazard bastard- I kind of missed you.

Okay, not really...

So my appointment wasn't all bad. Except for the part after I'd gotten home and realized that I had shaved one leg twice, and the other not at all. That must have given Dr.3 a great impression. ("She'll probably Follistim her eye out", I'm picturing him telling the nurse) And I know I did one leg twice, because I switched razor blades on the second round... In case the first explanation didn't quantify my incompetence enough for you.

I digress.

The ultrasound. Right. So I made Brian go with me. To a baseline ultrasound. At first I wasn't going to ask him to come, but then I realized that this was the first appointment meeting our new RE (whom I've named Dr.3) and I really wanted him there. And truthfully having him with me gives me a sense of calm. It's like having someone to sit with on the first day of school, ya know? Anyway, the ultrasound was pretty standard, he pointed out my uterus and the lining, my femoral (right?) artery pulsing, then went on to each ovary and the follicle counts. It was at this point that he casually mentioned the OPCOS, in the same demeanor I'd imagine he'd have if he was telling me I had green eyes. I realize that this is common place for him, and essentially good news, but all I could think about is how TWO other RE's who'd seen my charts and gave me ultrasounds had never seen this, but Dr.3 nailed it over the phone. Meanwhile the vein in my forehead began pulsing and I could barely construct a sentence. He finished up, and told me about the Metformin, while I nodded likely with my mouth open, and he sent us on our way.



I will say that I have not thus far, noticed any side effects from the Metformin. I've heard from two IRL friends that it can be pretty nasty so I was a bit apprehensive about starting it, but I'm grateful to say it's been fine. Except that I can't really drink alcohol with it. Not that I was a big drinker before, but Dr. Google says the use of alcohol with this medication can disrupt the normal functions of my kidney and liver... Not quite the same as putting up with the runs.


Having now had a few days to cool down, I am a little more grateful for the diagnosis and the fact that it's potentially a good thing. Dr. 3 wants to put me on a Long Lupron Protocol, though I'm very familiar with most aspects of IVF, the medication protocol is my weak spot. Have any of you done the Long Lupron protocol? So far I've read it's typically very successful for first timers but of course I've come across a few horror stories about over suppression. What say you veterans?

Something That Could Have Been Brought To My Attention YESTERDAY

Or two fucking years ago, before we spent six months and thousands of dollars on DIUI's that were NEVER GOING TO FUCKING WORK.

I have Ovulatory Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Different than "Classic" PCOS.

(Thank you Meg, for the link.)

Yeah, I've never heard of it either.

Maybe I would have, had I been diagnosed TWO FUCKING YEARS AGO. Because then I would have known that one of the symptoms of OPCOS is an elevated blood sugar level which can hinder implantation - KIND OF A BIG FUCKING FACTOR don'tcha think?!?!

So yesterday I had my CD3 Antra Follicle count. Our new RE (I need to come up with a name for him) wanted to see my ovaries in an "unchallenged state", meaning before there was a dominant follicle present. He quickly counted eight resting follicles on my left, and 12 on my right. FYI, the average for most women is about 10-12 total between the two ovaries. I have 20.

He mentioned something about this on the phone consult Saturday, but honestly I didn't have any idea what he was talking about, because I knew I didn't have any of the "Classic" Polycystic symptoms. But evidently he saw it coming because I have a 30 day cycle, which is a indicative of women with OPCOS. The only good thing about this is that it means I am likely to yield a higher reserve of follicles on a low dose of stims.

He wants me to start on Metformin asap. He says it will essentially make me "more fertile". And thanks to the link Meg sent me, I now know that is because the Metformin will regulate my insulin levels therefore bypass any implantation problems. He also said he will keep me on it until I am 12 weeks along, because it can also decrease the risk of miscarriage for someone like me.

I know I should be happy about the fact that it's finally been diagnosed, and our RE just kept reassuring me that it's actually a good thing because it means I'll be a better than average responder. But just having found out - I'm pretty hung up on the fact that this wasn't caught sooner. It kills me to think about how much time and money was wasted, but most importantly how the failed cycles caused such an epic amount of unnecessary heartache. Really the time and money was one thing, but the depression that followed not only comprimised my marriage but has forever changed who I am as a person.

Oh and now I have to sit with what else could come back from the rest of my blood tests. And all TWENTY-FOUR vials that they took!!!! It was twenty three, but the lab called later yesterday afternoon to tell me they had forgotten one. GAH. And fuck, what if the insurance deception doesn't work?!?!

Commence Meltdown.
(Number One)

Been There, Hoped That

Even though ninety-nine percent of me is brimming with excitement over our upcoming cycle and testing, there is still an echo of the fact that we've been here before. And more than that, I can't help but think of how many of you out there are still struggling after having switched clinics in hopes that the next ART cycle would be your last (meaning you got, and stayed pregnant) but then, to no avail...

But I can't keep thinking like that. Every situation is different. And it'll be in my best interest to stick with the positive thoughts instead of the "fuck,what if..." thoughts. No need to unearth the crazy just yet.

So the phone consult went great. Really, really great. He instantly acknowledged that we'd "been at it for a while". Yes, indeed we have. He said based on my previous test results, he was rather surprised that none of our IUI's worked. And if you're keeping count, he is the THIRD RE to make the same comment. He said after, six dIUI's, there would have been at least a 50% chance that I should have had some sort of positive. So he'd like to run a full immunological blood panel, as well as a refresher on the standard tests. And he was happy with the results of my first HSG so I won't need to do another one - yippiekiyay motherfucker, that shit hurt. He did say that he was slightly concerned that I may have an ovarian issue of the Poly Cystic variety - EVEN IF I'm ovulating regularly. (Boo.)

As for Brian, the doctor was very pleased to hear that he'd been on supplements since June. He'd like to get a current SA done, and would also like to bank 2-3 vials of his sperm for our IVF cycle. He said Brian will of course need to provide a fresh sample the day of my retrieval, but this will give us a fall back in case there are any issues with his sample on the big day. I feel really good about that.

After he finished his side of the questions he opened the floor up to us. My first concern unfortunately, was about money. I told him that we had met with an OBGYN earlier in the year who mentioned working with him. When we met with this guy in January I thought he was a total yahoo (still do), and referred to him here as Dr. Do Little. His only saving grace was his affiliation with our Doctor and that he offered to run a blood panel for me under "Infectious Diseases" as opposed to "Infertility" so that it would get covered by our insurance... This is the same exact panel that our new RE would like to order. Since I knew that might be the case I called last week to see if they would still be open to the insurance deception, and much to my delight they agreed.

I'm pretty grateful that my cycle just happened to coincide with the seminar and phone consult, so tomorrow I will go in for a CD3 blood panel, (FSH, Estrodial, etc.), then have three separate vials drawn for the immunological tests which will be shipped off to Chicago. And last but not least our RE would like to see me for a CD3 Antra follicle count (ultrasound). Not really looking forward to that one, but it will be nice to meet him formally. Can you even call it "formal" if I don't have pants on?

Anyway, one more good thing. He said we qualify for both the Shared Risk Program- where we'd get 90% of our money put back on our credit card refunded if a fresh IVF cycle and subsequent FET's did not result in a pregnancy exceeding twelve weeks; and the Two Cycle Program - in which would would be given a substantial discount upon paying for two cycles upfront. The jury's still out on this one, vacillating blog post to come.

In summation my friends, I'm pretty fricken excited. Moderately terrified underneath it all, but so, SO ready to move forward.

Sensory Overload

WHERE TO BEGIN? I guess I'll start with when we first arrived. They had appetizers. I love this Doctor already. Turkey and Roast beef wraps (like pinwheels) with bell peppers and cream cheese. And an open bar. Okay not really, but I could have used a beer to take the edge off my nerves fo' sho'. With food in my tummy and a steno pad in my purse, I was more than ready to get started.

When we walked up to the desk to give our names the nurse coordinator greeted me with a huge smile and a cheerful "Oh, hi Melissa!". My first reaction was a little disconcerted, while I returned her smile I wondered why her demeanor was more like checking people in at a high school reunion and less like a symposium for a group of people who are (potentially) experiencing the biggest challenge of their lives. But as I listened from the inside of Conference Room A to her greeting other people, I had to laugh at my own jadedness. This wasn't a Rosary. We shouldn't feel sad or ashamed. And as the doctor began speaking I knew instantly that I was thinking like an asshole. This event should bring everyone attending hope and excitement. This man could FINALLY get us knocked up for Fucks sake - put a damn smile on your face!

But it was obvious that I wasn't the only one with trepidations, I quickly noticed that I was the only one laughing at the doctors attempts at jokes. Like when he said his head Embryologist was "Anal and scrupulous; not the kind of man you want to be married to, but definitely the man you want watching over your gametes".

The rest of the seminar was great. I don't mean to sound like a douche, but I was significantly well versed in most of the topics he covered. (But I'll chalk that up to the obscene amount of time I've spent reading so many of your well documented blogs.) The exception being the structure and operational elements of his lab and his philosophies on various topics.

• Day 3 vs Day 5: He almost always does Day 5 unless by Day 3 there is only a small amount of embryo's, or some other significant factor. He likes to see the embryo's as close to the hatching point as possible before transferring.


• How many embryo's to transfer: His decisions are mostly based upon age. Under 35, no more than two - barring special circumstances. Over 35, no more than four. (A post on this specific topic is in the works.)


• Vitrification: They use the vitrification process for freezing. Which freezes the embryo to -196 degree's Celsius in milliseconds, leading to zero crystallization. Which means lower attrition, and better thaw rates

Overall it was a really great experience. And I'll bet the folks who are newer to the process gained a lot from this meeting. It was very thorough, and included video's of ICSI, egg retrievals, embryo transfers. Things I had seen, but I knew Brian hadn't. We ended the evening with questions from the attendees, the only questions I had were pretty specific to our situation and I prefer to ask them during our consultation this Saturday. After our consultation, we'll get started on testing again, since it's been about two years since our last round. CD3 could be as early as Monday or Tuesday for me, and we'll be doing an updated SA for Brian - I CAN'T WAIT to see if the tic tacs worked!

I guess this means our break is over, huh?

FUCK YEAH IT IS.

It's Seminar Day!

Holy Crap it's the end of September already! We're attending the seminar given by our more-than-likely new RE tonight. I'm so fricken excited that I'm not even a little bit mad that I won't have time to eat dinner in between leaving work and racing off to the seminar. Hopefully I'll find the time to inhale an apple or something because MELISSA DOESN'T SKIP MEALS.

Low Blood Sugar + Melissa = Rage

Just ask Brian.

Poor bastard.

Wow, am I still talking about food? Hell yes, because Melissa hasn't eaten breakfast yet. And being hungry compels me to make statements in the third person.

So the seminar, VERY EXCITED. And Saturday we have our phone consult with the good doctor. SUPER DUPER EXCITED.

More to come!

Out Of The Frying Pan

I took a pregnancy test yesterday morning. Don't get excited - it was negative. I really didn't think that I would see more than one line, but AF is two days late, and I wanted to drink coffee and alcohol guilt-free. Also I think I'm coming down with an infection (awesome) and I didn't want to worry about scrambling our egg with meds- if you know what I mean. And of course, I know you always do.

I keep all of my TTC paraphernalia in a small storage box in my bathroom linen cabinet, and since January it has been tucked away on the bottom shelf, all the way at the very back. I had to get down on my hands and knees just to reach it. And when I finally pulled it out, it took me a good minute before I could actually open it. I suddenly felt very aware that I was on my hands and knees. Being in that vulnerable position, with that box, and everything it represented instantly flooded my mind with images of the person I used to be.

First the good memories; what it felt like the first time I took a pregnancy test out of that cabinet. The excitement, the realization that I was a grown woman, married, and ready to start my own family. The positive OPK's, and how fun it was to make love because we thought we were creating our family. Then slowly the bad memories crept in; the countless tests with single lines. The disdain I felt for the Dixie cups I used to collect my first morning's urine. The frustration of deciphering how dark the line was on the Internet cheapie OPK. The tears that flowed as I slammed that box back in to the cabinet after yet another BFN. And let us not forget the thousands of calories that I consumed to try to ease the pain. Followed by the deepest depression I've ever known.

I could feel my breath quicken, and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with that box. I haven't looked at it in eight long months. No hpt's not opk's, for the better half of 2010. I was different person last time I saw that box - if I opened it again what would that make me? Is this the beginning of the end of the peace that I've found from our eight month respite? When we move forward with IVF in January, will I lose sight of the strength and balance I've worked so hard to regain?

I read so many of the ALI community's blogs, and I ache as I see some of you in that place where I spent so much of 2008, and 2009. Knee deep in the trenches, overwhelmed with frustration and desperation. But still without the slightest waiver of determination in the quest to become a mother.

In the same distinctive way that some feel lucky to have been dealt the challenge of infertility, myself included, I feel lucky that we didn't have the money to jump right into IVF. Because I wouldn't have had that time to heal so many of the battle wounds, to free myself from the reigns of depression, to loose the 30lbs I gained from eating my feelings. To see how unhealthy I was, and how toxic my addiction to TTC had become to my marriage.

At the end of this month I will attend a seminar given by the man who will most likely become our new RE. And four days after that we'll have phone meeting to get us started on our path to IVF early next year. I feel nothing but bliss with the thought of me possibly being pregnant this time next year, but I'm terrified of losing myself again in the mix of all of it. It's just too damn easy to get swallowed up in the whole process. Expectations vs Results, Realism vs Negativity; I'm four months away from all of it, and already I feel like my strategy's are bullshit.

How did you cope? Did you have plans in place to help manage stress?

Gifted

Well my countdown continues to 2011, but until then what better way to pass the time than with bloggy sisters? And COCKTAILS! I met up with a few of my girls this past weekend, Nikki from Our Roller Coaster through Infertility, and Sarang (private blog), AND drum roll please: Lost in Space from No Regrets was in town! It was so cool to have met her, and I'm really grateful she was able to squeeze us in with her other plans. Unfortunately Meg from No Oven for the Bun, who's normally a regular wasn't able to be there but we did our best to pretend like she was.

(Lost in Space, Sarang, "Meg on a Stick", Me, Nikki)

COCKTAILS! and a Monkey Sister toast

After another round of cocktails, we all decided the time was right to throw on a little gift from Nikki, and take pictures with "Meg". How cool is that blogger beanie?!

And though we weren't able to have the real Meg with us that night, I was grateful to have gotten my fix a few weeks before hand. Shortly after introducing me to a fabulous local Chinese restaurant, Meg gave me one of the most thoughtful gifts an infertile could ever dream of: A Follistim Pen.

Used by the skillful hands of a veteran IVFer, she handed me the small blue case that contained to be what I now consider my LUCKY Follistim Pen. This pen helped Meg and T create several little frosties that I know will see the light of day in the not so distant future. It's not only the good juju that comes with this pen, but the generosity and thoughtfulness of her knowing it's one less thing I'll have to purchase when 2011 finally rolls around.

And while I know how fortunate I am to have such amazing women so close by to lean on and have a much needed cocktail with (or three), there are several others I wish I could see on a regular basis too. A few weeks ago I came home from a weekend getaway to a small padded envelope with my name on it...

Inside was a necklace and a card from Murgdan, just to let me know she'd been thinking of me and hoping that time was moving along quickly enough while I wait impatiently for January to come around. Because she remembers how crappy it is to have to wait, and to scrimp and save your way for a shot at becoming a family. That kind of acknowledgement and understanding is invaluable to me. Thank you Murgdan.

The necklace has the word hope, with the written definition on it. It's lovely, and to the point, and I'm wearing it today.

( Sorry the picture is so terrible, I can't find the good one I had taken of it!)

What more can I say? I feel so incredibly lucky to have met all of you, maybe not necessarily in person, but the connection I've made through comments and emails is like nothing I've ever experienced. And I hope you all know how grateful I am for every one of you.

Now go tell one of your bloggy sisters how much they mean to you!

No News Is .... Because I'm Boring

So, yeah... I've been a little MIA... Sorry bout that. Iyah... Don't have a whole lot to say I guess - But how are you? What's new?

Okay Seriously. I'm sorry I've been a little out of touch. It's funny because I always wondered about the people who let their blogs go for weeks without an update. How could they not feel compelled to overshare with general public?! I love writing here, I love that years from now I'll be able to look back at April 9th, 2008 and see where I was in my life... I've tried though! I have several unpublished posts that I started and just felt like they weren't really going anywhere, and I didn't want to drag you along with me. Then I happened to look at my calendar and realized that Sunday will be August 1st. (Holy Crap - AUGUST?!) And I can't let the entire month of July go by without a single update, now can I?

So in an effort to keep my future self posted as to where I'm at in my life on this very day, and so you all don't think I've run off to abduct Jason Sudeikis. I give you updates via bullet point, ala: I'm not dead, I swear.

Da Heyouse - I've wrapped myself up in all kinds of household projects. Painting, organizing, purging - all LONG overdue.

Fund Raising - Remember my 34 year old, non-smoking friend with Stage IV Lung Cancer? Well I joined a 5K Fund raiser for the organization he is involved with and I've spent a bit of time emailing and calling folks about it. I've even gone back on to Facebook (gulp) to shamelessly plug it. (Speaking of shameless plugging, if you'd like to donate to a REALLY fantastic and worthy cause, you can email me at bloggyme027 at gmail dot com)

IF Related -I signed us up for a Seminar that a local RE is doing the last week of September. And I set up a phone consultation for a few days after to discuss our future IVF cycle. Exciting! (It's either a phone consultation or a $500 face to face - free shit is better)

The RE's office sent me a package the very next day after my phone call with tons of paperwork, a dvd about them, and pricing. I also found out we might qualify for a 10-25% financial assistance discount that will be based on our income. I'm pretty sure we'll qualify for one of the two - sweetness!

Countdown - We're 35 days away from Pumpkin Spice Latte's.

Which means we're on the downhill side of the countdown to IVF in early 2011. Hoo-fuckin-rah

Weight Loss - I'm down 21.5lbs total, and I've hit a bit of a plateau. In the last two weeks I've bounced up and down about a half a pound. Which is pretty annoying. Guess it's time to mix up my exercise routine again. 14.5 more to go!

So there you have it. Nothing terribly exciting to post about, but I just wanted you all to know I'm still here. Brian has commented on more than one occasion about how nice it is to "have me back". While I feel like I've been in a good place for at least the last four months, I kind of know what he saying. I'm living my life again, and it doesn't have much to do with TTC or our failure to do so. (though I still demand sex when I'm ovulating). And I think the main reason it's been so easy to let go of is only because there is a silent simultaneous countdown ticking away in my head to when we will finally get to move forward again. So while my world is no where near revolving around it, it is still very much present in my everyday life. And now, if you'd like to discuss Politics, I can contradict myself further.

Melissa G - OUT.

SuppleMENTAL

Since embarking upon on my weight loss journey I've found it decidedly convenient to have something else to obsess over whilst on our TTC/ART hiatus. Don't worry I'm not weighing out my portions of cereal or anything. The food part is surprisingly easy for me. It's actually more of the exercise part that I tend to be obsessive about. I'm working out between four and five days a week and it's really going well. But I fully admit that it takes A LOT of willpower to keep my ass off the couch and motivated to exercise so consistently. That part is not so easy.

So since I'm on this new health kick I have decided to subject Brian to a pretty hefty load of supplements to help his boys get a little more whip in their tails. To be one hundred percent honest, I have no idea if it is even going to work. It's a total Hail Mary, but it's a relatively easy thing that we can try to do to boost our chances for my hopelessly delusional miracle BFP aspiration a successful IVF cycle.

I initially got the "cocktail" from Dee who posted about how it helped her husband with severe MFI. (Dee btw, is currently pregnant with triplets (!) after her SEVENTH IVF) I then ran it passed my acupuncturist, who is a licensed herbalist. She approved and was able to order all the goods for me. So now Brian is chugging two different buffered powders in juices - twice per day- AND taking eleven pills a day on top of that.... (Thanks dear)

So for all I know thirty packs of Tic Tacs could yield the same results since we're still possibly dealing with a chromosomal issue, but you know what? This makes me feel like we're actually doing something. Like the twelve months we're taking off to save up for IVF won't be completely useless otherwise. And I'd hate to get to our first cycle and have it fail, then think to myself that I coulda/woulda/shoulda put him on those damn Tic Tacs, and that maybe just maybe we would have had a different outcome. You know how that goes...

So anyway, I'm assuming the RE we're going to meet with in October is going to order another S/A. And I'll commence hoping with all my might that we do infact see a difference - I'm not expecting a perfect score, but just a little something for his efforts would be nice. This appointment afterall will be over 120 days after Brian started this regimen, and from the various reports I've read sperm mature at 70 - 90 days past production, so it should be just in time. Annnnd I guess that's all I have to say about Brian's sperm.

For now.

Wish us luck!

Rightside Up

Dude. You guys are awesome. Thank you so much for cheering me on and offering your not-so-unsolicited support. It was pretty fun to feel the excitement in some of your comments. And a little overwhelming because it made me realize that I was excited too.

I am excited. And hopeful. And almost even giddy when I think about how we're going to get to move forward soon. I'm so grateful to be in such a good place right now that it makes me wonder where I'd be had we not been forced to take a break. I've almost forgotten what it was like to cry on a daily basis, or feel slighted by a complete stranger at the grocery store just because they're pregnant. And things are going really, REALLY well with Brian and I, and I've truly cherished every second since I've stopped wanting to punch him in the face (Not entirely his fault, of course). I'm not saying by any means that the feelings about infertility ever went away, I'm just saying that they were much more manageable... Anyway, I'm not going to sit here and preach about taking a break, because really - who in their everlovin' right mind would want to extend their stay in this horrendous land of limbo? I initially planned to forge ahead, not stopping for anyone or anything until I saw that second line, so I know how it sounds when someone tells you that you need to take a break. (Maybe that's where the whole wanting to punch Brian in the face thing started) I'll just say that a break isn't anything you should be afraid of. (btw, I've been relaxed for four whole months and I'm still not pregnant - can you believe that advice doesn't work after all?!?)

So I guess my new found Zen is part of what made me hesitant to announce anything official here about us doing IVF next year. I was afraid that admitting it in my bloggy life might fling me back into the world of emphatically monitoring my cycle days and cervical mucus. And the next thing you know I'm drinking cough syrup with a straw and screaming in the bathroom at work at a used OPK to give me a more definitive line. For realsies.

Okay here's part of the plan. We're going to interview with one more RE. He used to be a part of my old clinic but opened a practice of his own a while back. He deals strictly with IVF, and has built a very reputable on site lab. The other great thing about this clinic is that he offers a shared risk program, and if we qualify we could be eligible to receive 90% of the fee's back if our first fresh IVF cycle, and subsequent FET's don't end up with a viable pregnancy. In which case we would most certainly put that 90% towards another cycle. He will be giving a seminar at a local Hotel the last week of September, and my plan is to schedule an appointment with him for the week after while I'm signing up for the Seminar. Which in reality is only a little over three months away!

So I'm down almost 15 pounds - yehaw! It's exciting because there are a bunch of clothes in my closet that fit now, so I get to wear somewhat new clothes without having spent a dime. Ahhh the fat girl's consolation... A varied wardrobe to accommodate any pant size. So according to my original plan I only have about 11 more pounds to go. HOWEVER, the clinic we're going to go to really stresses the research they've done between the correlation of BFP's and BMI's. So I'm probably going to need to loose another 10 pounds on top of my original goal. Equaling another 21 pounds total that I need to loose... Fortunately time is on my side -for once. So I might just be able to get all the weight off by the seminar. I'm not going to kill myself doing it, it's just a goal.

Anyhoo, thank you again for all of your support and encouragement. I'm truly grateful with all of my heart.

Go Big or Go Home

While I haven't exactly aired all of our dirty laundry, I take pride in being pretty honest and forthright here about everything going on in our lives regarding IF. But there's something I've been holding back on and I can't really discern why. What I'm about to tell you, is to me, less of an arcane matter than choosing to come out about doing Donor IUI's. But reflecting on it now, it wasn't about telling you as much as it is putting it in writing that made it seem so irrevocable and REAL. As if admitting it here would mean anything other than what it does when I speak the actual words; which I have.

So here it goes: We're definitely doing IVF next year.

I realize in this community my announcement is common place, so you're all probably feeling a little let down that I'm not declaring my race for Governor or launching my own reality TV series. But it feels like a really fucking big deal. While I am (of course) a huge advocate of IVF, I honestly never thought we would need it. From the time we were diagnosed to the time where we decided to do dIUI's, I just never thought IVF would be a part of our plan. I thought I would get pregnant with every one of our six dIUI's. Just like I thought we'd get pregnant right away when I went off Birth Control THREE years ago this month.

I also realize that my news isn't a total surprise since I've yammered on and on about possibly doing dIUI's w/ injectables or IVF hopefully using Brian's sperm, or adoption. But as of about March we pretty much decided we would definitely do IVF. (Though I think adoption will always remain on the table) We still have long road ahead of us. There's going to be some serious embezzling, and bank robberies juggling with finances on our part to try to make this happen. And we won't be able to move forward for at least six more months. But I really think we'll manage.

We're hoping to get started in January, no later than February. There are a few other goals included in this six month timeline, but I'll post about them later. For now I just wanted to get this off my chest and tell you that I feel incredibly lucky to know so many of you who've gone through this. So I'll be aware of some of the situations and/or complications that may arise during our cycle. And to have such a vast community of strength and knowledge I can fall back on feels absolutely amazing, so I'm going to thank all you IVF Vets in advance for putting up with the incessant questioning that is to come. First thing on the list:

Is it 2011 yet?

Unplugged

Though my husband would emphatically disagree, I have to say how lovely it is to exist in a place without Cell phones or News reports. To spend your day without knowing what time it is, only identifying it in segments related to meals and shut eye. It must be how my dog feels every day.

I'm sorry to say I don't have any pictures for you. I fully intended to spend a significant amount of time capturing the wilderness I spent almost every summer in during my childhood. But I just never got around to it. Productivity had no part in this trip and I'm incredibly thankful for that. I needed that. To shut down. To unplug. To eat. To laugh. To spend time with people I love. It was so nourishing. It was also however, very, very cold. Sweatshirt weather during the daytime, and beanie and parka weather at night. It most certainly dipped well into the low 30's after sunset which is not exactly something I'm used to. I realize I probably sound like a panzy because some of you live in that type of weather, but how often to you sleep outside during it?

I truly enjoy camping. The smell. The quiet. The time we get to spend with my family, it's wonderful. And something about it makes me feel like a kid again. Unfortunately that something is when I have to trek it to the bathroom in the middle of the freezing cold night. There's just something so unsettling about not being able to see further than the beam of my flashlight that I simply cannot contain while I'm up there. Then once I make it safely back to my tent I spend the next twenty minutes or so trying not to think about how easy it would be for someone or something to murder me while I lay helpless, bundled up in my sleeping bag. Some of you will either know exactly what I mean or think I am a complete nut case. But that will never change the fact that when I'm camping, I am afraid of the dark.

Getting away from the hustle and bustle of every day life has reminded me of more than just how liberating it can be to really shut things off for a few days. It's made me realize how this break from ttc has given me a piece of my life back. And I say "a piece", because I still don't feel whole. But at least it's something. A glimmer of who I was, and what I may be again someday in the future. When the noises of infertility don't invade my thoughts and dreams. When I live my day in small segments of time, instead of two week periods that seem to drag on until I realize that actually months, and years have passed.

I admit that in gaining a part of myself back, I've lost the part of me that yearns to spend so much time here. While I miss so many of you that I've come to know so well over the years, it's also a little painful. To see you move on, to see you fail, to see you waiting, like me, for when you've healed enough, saved enough to move on to the next step - whatever that may be. Being slightly removed from all the ups and downs makes me realize how difficult that world is, how consuming and demanding treatments can be. And I'm awe of the strength you each possess. And I'm reminded of the support you've all given me, and how I hope that I've been there for you as much as you've been there for me. I don't mean that to sound like I'm going anywhere, I just feel the need to clarify my absesnce from your comments and lack of posting here. It's an unfortunate struggle between wanting to know every little update in the lives I feel so invested in, and needing a little space from such an all encompassing saga. I hope that makes sense.

Checking Out

No Cell Phones.

No T.V.

No Heat.

What?! Okay there will be heat, but it will be primitive.

Me bang rocks, make fire. Oh, who am I kidding - I ordered myself a 3,000 BTU Portable Propane heater fo' sho'.

We're heading up to God's Country this weekend. Big camping trip with my family. Sleeping in the woods should be great for my back. Okay maybe not, but at least no one will be able to hear me scream. Hooray for simplicity.

As if it were even necessary to mention, my posting and commenting will be even more non existent for a bit since we won't even have much FM radio reception.

And btw, the tab that gives me the options for font is mysteriously no where to be found. Seems like the universe is helping me prepare to get by without all the fancy modern conveniences I've come to love.

Peace Out.

Injured Reserve

You may or may not have noticed that I've been MIA for the last week or so, I am sorry for that because I've missed you all, but I have a relatively good excuse. I threw my back out last week. ***Whispers in the crowd "I though she was like 31, not 72"***. I am in fact still thirty-one though I feel like I'm Seventy-two. I wish I had an awesomely heroic or acrobatic story to accompany my injury, but I don't. I was reaching for a hairbrush and BAM(!) I couldn't stand back up... (pathetic, I know)

Sadly this is not my first back injury. Those of you with medical degree's or previous back injuries are likely rolling their eyes with a simultaneous "DUH". The first injury happened almost three years ago when my uncle was dying from Colon Cancer and we had to drive six hours each way to his house because he was moving back home. I didn't lift anything particularly heavy I think it was a combination of the emotional stress from the pending loss and moving, and having two, six hour drives with in three days. My other serious relapse was stress related as well. I guess that's why this injury is so baffling. It wasn't stress related at all.

I saw my chiropractor, and he mentioned something about my Sacroiliac Joint and the ligament that wraps around it... I don't really remember the details because I was in excruciating pain and wasn't really paying attention to anything that wasn't making me feel better. I spent the next three days either flat on my back or standing, because sitting was extremely painful (which made going to the bathroom... interesting). The three days I was at home I couldn't bare to sit down in front of our desktop, and our router is busted so my laptop is somewhat useless. And by the time I've gotten home from work this week, all I want is a big glass of wine and to be flat on my back. So please forgive me, because I'm WAY behind on all your posts. I have to say though that Brian has been absolutely incredible. Sunday he went to Costco for me and came back with flowers. Then when I came home from work Monday evening the lawn had been mowed, the kitchen was spotless and he had vacuumed the entire house. (Thank you again dear!!!)

The good news is this has given me a good excuse to go see my acupuncturist, whom I love, love, LOVE. And I've seen my Chiro almost every day which has yielded significant progress. I was thrilled when he recommend acupuncture, and he was a little surprised when I told him I already had a particular office I'd being going to. Which lead to the discussion of IF, and then about how my current injury might be impacted by pregnancy (g*d willing). He said even after I'm feeling better I should come in for adjustments every few months, and that he will definitely be able to help me when I do (eventually/hopefully) get pregnant, and that I shouldn't worry about it too much.

Two other crappy parts about being sidelined by this injury is that one, I wasn't able to complete or submit my Project IF post by the deadline - which breaks my heart but I just couldn't sit in front of a computer, nor was I really in the mood to write. (If you think I'm agro here, be thankful that you've never seen me while I'm in a lot of pain) And two I'm not able to excersize AT ALL. Which is not so good when you're on the weightloss train. But, it is what is it I guess. I'm just focusing on recovering. So if you'll excuse me now, I have a CRAP LOAD of blogs that I love, to catch up on.

OH one more thing! My very good friend Jessica gave birth to her little girl last week. I am so thrilled for she and her husband and I can't wait to meet her daughter. Jess has been very supportive through my journey, and because of that she is one of the few IRL friends that has access to this blog. She also struggled a bit with PCOS so I'm even more thrilled that she's finally got her little one.

Project IF, My Part I

I promise I'm hard at work on my Project IF post, but I've got a little more work to do. In the mean time I feel it's important that I mention the significance of this week - National Infertility Awareness Week. I've been looking forward to it in a way, because I feel like this is "our week" to be a little bit more significant and get some recognition. But I also feel like a total hypocrite because I'm not completely out of the IF closet.

No one at work (outside of my close friends) knows. I've never talked about it on facebook, or any other public forum. I've also only chosen a select few of my friends to tell- and only three of them know about and have access to this blog. And at this very moment I can't think of any other reason than my deep seeded fear of divulging any kind of insecurity - which suddenly seems incredibly lame... I guess I've always been someone that held their cards close, but it feels wrong in a way now because I feel so strongly about advocacy. Yet I can't even be open in real life. Which makes me wonder if I have other friends who might be dealing with this, and like me, have just never opened up about it. What IF they don't know about this incredible blogging community? What IF they are suffering in silence?

I've been thinking about this a lot and how much I wish I could come out to ALL my friends - but I'm just not ready. I want to so badly and the post by Keiko at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed has brought me very close to wanting to shout it from the roof tops. Please, please PLEASE go check out Keiko's post and video. Oh, and BRING TISSUES.

If you're not familiar with Project IF, please head over to Mel's to learn more and get involved. It's an incredibly significant project that I think we will all benefit from, even if only cathartically.

And just a disclaimer - I don't mean to sound disparaging to those of you who are in the closet as well. I totally understand and appreciate everyone's need for privacy. I just wish I was strong enough to come out and support those who are out as well.

Long Time, No ICLW

I've taken the last four months off ICLW because I couldn't honestly commit to getting all the commenting done. But I'm back now, and feeling better. I typically like to sum up my blog in the introductory ICLW posts, but I'm having a hard time describing my current status as anything but a loud, exaggerated fart noise.

So here's some history!

My husband and I started TTC back in the summer of ought seven. I say it all old timey like that because it literally feels like it was that long ago that our TTC journey began. And I now refer to that time as a completely different era. We were a happy-go-lucky couple that was completely clueless of the odyssey that lie ahead. I genuinely believed we would get pregnant on the first try, imagine that.

Fast forward to December 2008, we were diagnosed with severe Male Factor and told IVF w/ICSI or Donor Sperm would be our only hope. After much deliberation we chose donor because it was the most financially attainable, and because we were concerned about the implications that the severity of his diagnosis might mean for our future children.

Fast forward AGAIN to December 2009 when we had our SIXTH and final dIUI. All of them left us with straight up BFN's and a fair amount of credit card debt. My RE at the time, and the second opinion we got a month later were dumbfounded, and couldn't explain why none of the IUI's worked because my charts looked so great.

And that brings us to the present time: Infertile Purgatory. We're currently emotionally and financially tapped out - (Donor sperm is EXPENSIVE!) You can see our protocol for the IUI's in my timeline up above. Although, none of them worked so I wouldn't exactly say they were exemplary. Anyway. Back to the purgatory. We have no idea what the next step is. Possibly IVF using my husbands sperm and donor for back up, or possibly adoption... We just don't have a stinking clue, or any money to move forward anyway, so here we sit. This break is a blessing and a curse - depends on when you ask me.

At the moment I'm working on some loosing some weight. I went a smidge overboard with the comfort foods, and found myself 26.4lbs heavier than I'd like to be. I'm a Pisces. I love hockey, blogging and this IF community. I don't believe in butter or sugar substitutes. I look forward to getting to know all of you.

Not Even Close

I've entered the loneliest place in my head yet again. It's the room where everyone has it better than me, and I wonder what we've done in our past lives to deserve all this heartache.

Friday night we went to one of my husbands client's houses for dinner. They have two ADORABLE kids. The oldest, a little girl who took right to me. She made almost constant eye contact with me hoping I was paying attention to whatever she was doing at the moment, and she wore my size 11 flip flops the entire night. Later in the evening, close to her bedtime, she got upset while playing a game and she began to cry. Her mother came over to comfort her, scoping her up into her arms, and whispering softly to ease her pain and turn her tears into laughter again. After a few minutes of rocking and a reluctant smile, mom convinced her to go get her prettiest nightgown on to show me.

"Sorry about that, they just cry really easily when they get tired".

I realize now that by the look I must have had on my face she thought I was upset by the little girl's crying. But I get that, hell I cry when I'm overtired - it was witnessing such a tender moment that killed me. Watching her rock, and whisper her daughters tears away is something I ache for to the very depths of my soul. And on the way home it crushed me even more to realize I'm not even close to being able to do that. I cried myself to sleep that night, and I haven't been able to shake it since. It really feels like it's never going to happen for us.

I know this break is important for healing, but how long is it really going to be? Is it just till we have enough money to actually do something? But what's 'enough' anyway? We've been talking recently about moving on to adoption, and while I'm very open to that, it feels like the more we deliberate over our options the father away we are from taking a real step. I feel lost again.

The Ass Kicking of a Lifetime

I'm going to be completely honest with you. Jillian Michaels made me cry.

Trembling bottom lip and everything.

On Saturday I started her 30 Day Shred Workout DVD, and OH. MAI. GAHD. I have never, EVER in my entire life been so sore. Head to toe. Wince when I walk, groan while getting out of bed, because sitting up actually requires abdominal muscles that I apparently have now. Anyway, I popped in the DVD late Saturday morning and listened to her little schpeal: "I'm awesome and strong and thin and you're not; so here's what I'm going to do about it", blah, blah,blah.

And then, it started.

Forty-seven seconds into the warm up I was already panting. Christ, I thought, only 19 minutes and 13 seconds to go - I CAN DO THIS!

So I did. But not without crying about sixteen minutes, and THREE different types of crunches later.

Something you should know about me.

I'm Norwegian.

I don't sweat.

Unless I'm sick. Or apparently about to collapse from exhaustion. (Seriously though, I never even have to wear deodorant.) But half way through this DVD, I was sweating like a whore in church. Pit stains and a stomach line, drenched in sweat. Alright, so maybe I can't blame the lack of sweating on being Norwegian. Maybe it's because I've just successfully maintained an exceedingly lethargic lifestyle for the last thirty-one years.

So I've worked out with this DVD everyday for the last four days. I'm following the lowest strength level, and so far it's not any easier for me than day one. It's probably even harder because my abs and quads are so sore that their tolerance is a lot lower. It's fucking hard man. By the end of the DVD I'm completely out of breath, sweating, trembling and bellowing with each of the slightest movements. But I'm going to keep doing it. Because it's good for me.

So this is the part where I'd tell you it was all worth it right? Today is Wednesday, weigh-in day. This is where I go on and on about how it was all worth my diet, sweat, and tears. But instead I'm sort of speechless. I only lost 0.5lbs.

I worked SO hard this last week. It just doesn't make sense. I have exercised Every. Single. Day. since last Thursday, and have almost nothing to show for it. My eating was good, I stayed right within the amount of calories I'm supposed to, I don't get it. I feel so, so defeated right now.

Thankful Thursday

On a regular basis I try to stop what I'm doing and think about how lucky am, and how great my life is aside from IF. Ceejay did a post recently that reminded me it's been a while since I said those things out loud. So here it goes:

• Being on a break: As batshit crazy as that sounds, I am so incredibly thankful that we had no money therefore were forced to take this break. Okay, I'm not thankful that we don't have any money for A.R.T., but I really think this break was much needed, and so difficult to see through my BFN haze. It's really been a good thing for me, and my marriage. There is a certain freedom that comes with not knowing what cycle day you're on. Almost like being a normal person. Well "normal" is relative, but you know what I mean.


• My Husband: My husband who works so incredibly hard to keep the dollah billz flowing in even through this horrible recession. Being a small business owner is no piece of cake these days, yet somehow he's still managing to keep his shit together. Even outside of his business, he's been working incredibly hard to make things better in our marriage. The last eight months have been really challenging for us maritally speaking. Not all the time or everyday. And not to the point where either of us started making other plans. On the worst days though it seemed like not wanting a divorce, was the only thing we had in common. While we're not quite finished, I'm overjoyed to tell you that after a fair amount of couples therapy and a lot of hard work, we're doing much better. I don't mean that to sound like he was the only one who had work to do. This blog should be all the evidence you need to prove I've got my own brand of crazy. Marriage is work. And sometimes, it's a lot of work. And not something you as a couple can handle alone. Which leads me to my next bullet point.


• Therapy: Alone, together, WHATEVER. I think everyone should have a therapist. We're all a little crazy and if you think you're not, well let me tell you something: The really crazy people- don't know they're crazy. And even if you might not need it now, you should consider it someday. My final word: All ttc and no therapy makes Melissa want to climb up on to a rooftop with a semi-automatic weapon.


• Humor: If we weren't laughing, we'd be crying right? Truer words were never spoken my friends. By the way, the last two sentences in my previous bullet point WERE A JOKE, and I hope I didn't offend anyone, but come on people, you know you've been there too. I digress. What I was going to say is that I've lost count of the amount of times I've come a cross a blog post put up by some of you out there that has completely disarmed me, and left me with tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. And I'm so, so grateful to know it's out there.


• The Internet: I don't even want to think about where I'd be, had I not found this community. Endless resources, and endless support. I love the Internet.
  
• Wei.ght Wat.chers: I'm down another 0.8 lbs. Not what I hoped for, and I'm trying not to beat myself up for such a lame-o drop, but I guess it's better than gaining.


• Friends, fertile or not: Through this hardship I have learned a lot about my friends, and especially what kind of friend I want to be from now on. I've met some amazing people in the IF community. Ones that I hope to know and keep in contact with for the rest of my life. And my IRL friends, fertile as most may be. There are a select few of them that have been absolutely incredible. The awesome ones know of and have access to this blog. The rest of them can suck it. Just kidding. The rest of them just don't get it, and I won't hold that against them because I wonder what kind of friend I would have been had the situation been reversed. I like to think I would have not been a complete asshole, but you never know. Oh, and I'm not completely out of the IF closet, so some of them just don't know about our problem. Though we've been married for almost seven years, so I'm sure they're wondering. P.S. one of my very good IRL friends is going to do a guest post very soon, so stay tuned!
  

Okay, that's not EVERYTHING I'm thankful for, but those are the first few things that floated in to my teeny tiny brain....

What are you thankful for?

Accountability

I'm not sure whether to thank you all, or yell at you for letting me off the hook. What do you mean, what am I talking about?!?! I'm talking about the big fat ass of mine that I was supposed to get rid of three months ago. Remember this post, when I said I had started a diet, and already lost a few pounds, and that I'd put a ticker up shortly?! Well I never put a ticker, and I gained those few extra pounds back in one- Boston-Market-sitting. Man, I could eat their sweet potatoes EVERY. DAMN. DAY. Maybe a with a little side of Mac & cheese. Oh dude, and their Chicken Pot Pie? I'd cut a bitch for their Chicken Pot Pie... It's that good.

Annnnnd that's my problem.

I love food. So, so much. Good day or bad, it's a perfect reason to cook up something comforting. Ten minutes in my kitchen is really much harder on my diet than a half hour at a Burger King. Okay maybe that's not a fair comparison. Fried food is not my problem. I'd pick a wheel of double cream Brie over a plate of fries ANY DAY. Seriously, cheese is one of my weakest spots. Oh and Peanut Butter. I actually don't really care for, nor do I visit fast food places often. So other than my Peanut Butter and cheese habits, portions are my other problem. I'm guilty of eating when I'm not hungry, just cause it sounds good. An extra scoop of rice, so I don't have to dirty a Tupperware container? Why not.

So yes my weight has always fluctuated a bit. In the two years after we got married, I gained a good 35 pounds. It wasn't because I stopped caring - like I didn't have to try anymore because I was married. I actually call it Happy Fat. I was loving life, and cooking my way in to oblivion. Then I joined Weight Watchers and lost 45 pounds. Got back to my high school weight. And I felt really, really good. I gained a little of it back but lost it again in the spring of 2007 because we were going to try for a baby. And when it didn't happen right away things pretty much started to go down hill from there. The depression and heartache I endured was too much at some point and I turned back to food to make me happy.

But I'm ready to do something about it now. And it's not really about the way I look. It's more about the way I feel. I don't feel as good as I do when I'm eating better and exercising regularly. So last week, I started Weight Watchers. Again. And it's going alright. I think the first week is one of the toughest - for me. Getting used to planning every single meal and sticking with the smaller portions is not easy. But I drink my weight in water to avoid an empty stomach, and I stick with my motto for this point in my diet: If you're not hungry; you're not doing it right... A month from now, the portions I'm eating will be more than enough, and making the right choices won't be so difficult. I know that once I loose the amount of weight I want to, I can go back to eating cheese and peanut butter in moderation, and as long as I keep exercising regularly. I used to hate running, but now I love it. It really clears my head.

Anyway, I went in to get weighed this morning. My first week I lost 4.7 pounds at home or 2.8 pounds on the WW scale (with all my clothes on). And if you look up and to your right, you'll see my new weight loss ticker. Just to keep me in line.

Here I go...

Blogher Anyone?

When you're open with your friends about your infertility, it can sometimes negatively effect/impact those relationships. Especially when they get pregnant. You may remember the friends I mentioned who avoided us for several months, then finally called us when they couldn't hide it anymore were twenty weeks along. Then to add insult to injury I never got an invitation to her shower... It was later determined that her mother had used the address list from her wedding (Brian and I were both in the wedding party) which had our old P.O. Box listed, so I never got it. Even though we have gone to see their baby, and Brian and the husband keep in contact, our friendship has never been the same. And occasionally whilst taking stock of things, I'd feel sad about it. But as of last week I feel worse. The husband I spoke of was recently diagnosed with a pretty advanced form of Lung Cancer. He's 34.

It's shocking, and sad. And I have a lot of mixed emotions about it. Brian is taking it pretty hard. It's scary when you start to think about how short life really is, or can be. And thought of cancer has been haunting me lately. Yes, our situation with infertility sucks. But it's not life threatening. I haven't been able to complain to myself about much lately because I keep thinking - at least we're healthy. We're so lucky to be able to say that.

Then today I came across this post from A Year of Slow Cooking's blog. Her best friend' s sister has Breast Cancer. Her best friend also happens to work for a little company called Blogher, and is holding a raffle for those who donate to her sister's fund for medical bills that aren't covered by insurance. The Prize? A Full Conference Pass to the SOLD OUT 2010 Blogher Convention in New York City. Not too shabby.

I'll be the first to speak up about how much infertility sucks, but I think it's only than fair to say that Cancer sucks more.

This one time, in Georgia...

I'm going to go ahead and spoil the end of my post for you right now.

My trip was fucking awesome ya'll.

Better than I had any right to expect. Finally meeting four women in person that I have admired and have been given an immeasurable amont of support from was truly amazing. But I find myself regretful for the short amount of time I had with them. To say my trip was a whirlwind would be a gross understatement, but it was absolutely wonderful. And yes of course, I over packed for it.

Last Friday began with me rolling out of bed at 3:30am. I say "rolling out of bed", because using any other phrase would imply that I actually slept that night. I threw myself together and my wonderful husband got me to the airport by 4:30am for my 6:00am flight. Though the travel time was only about four and a half hours I could hardly sit still. Could that have been from the coffee I drank at home and mocha I guzzled at the airport lounge? Possibly, but I like to think it was out of shear anticpation of finally meeting my friends. By the way, that coffee did me no favors. Just ask the two people sitting next to me about the three separate times I had to ask them to get up out of their seats so I could scoot across the row only to wait in line again for the cramped Lavatory. (I had the window seat. DOH!)

After a fair amount of turbulence during our decent into ATL, we landed safely, and once we were given the go ahead I quickly turned on my phone and a flurry of text messages ensued. "Just landed!! WOOO HOOO". Carli and Melissa greeted me near baggage holding a cute little sign with my name on it. Gawd was I glad to see them... Jamie's flight was delayed a bit, but the time flew by as our cheery conversations rambled on. And once her flight landed we were on our way to dinner and then finally on to the house.

Carli was an exemplary hostess, she made us all feel like we really were at home. Her smile and laughter is merely an extension of her colossal heart. Carli thank you again for taking us all in. You have such a beautiful home, and it's obvious how much love and hard work you and Derek have put into it.

Another great thing about their house? THEY HAVE DOGS!!!!

How could you not LOVE these faces?! I came THISCLOSE to packing them up in my carry on.

I give you Dakota and Murphy, respectively.

Saturday morning began with fresh brewed coffee and a loaf of Cinnamon Streusel bread. Then we were off to site see at the Georgia Aquarium. Which is not just any Aquarium, but the worlds largest I'll have you know. On our way, we spotted this office:

A joke only an infertile would get.

Evidently "Cervical" is another word for your back or spine.

At 550,000 square feet (including the tanks) the aquarium did not disappoint.

This is a Wolf Eel. Fierce, huh?

And what's a tourist trap without a tacky souvenir?

We concluded our Down Town Atlanta viewing with a group photo in Centennial Olympic Park.

(Me, Jamie, Melissa, Carli)

Followed by some more adult like behavoir...

Then we went back to the house and drank.

Okay, it was actually more like this:

After a long day of walking and laughing and talking we headed to the house to make homemade pizza's. (Which by the way, came out PHENOMENAL.) That evening was probably my most favorite part of the trip. This was were we sat around and talked and learned more about each other than just the common affliction that initially brought us all together. Jamie (pictured above) is funny and clever and incredibly sincere. Melissa is kind and thoughtful and the perfect amount of silly. I really could go on and on about the intricate details that make me feel like I've known these women my entire life, but I sort of want to keep that between us. In short, they are more remarkable than I could ever describe and I feel so grateful to call them my friends.

A couple bottles of wine, a box of chocolates, a chick flick and an array of nutty Yo.utube Video's later we all settled in for bed. And before I knew it, it was Sunday morning and time for me to pack up. My ride to the airport would be arriving shortly after 10am. But this ride wasn't just some old airport shuttle, it was a friendly face. Yet another I had only ever seen online. While I have loyaly read her countless brilliant posts, and shared a few emails; meeting her in person was quite an honor. Murgdan arrived at the house promptly at 10:30. After I said my goodbye's and hugged my friends, we headed south to grab a little brunch before I had to be at the airport, and she to a shower. As we headed down Highway 85, we breezily chatted about all the fascinating infertile topics you might suspect while I lost count of the number of Waffle House signs I saw hovering above nearly every exit. And yes, she is just as funny and smart in person as you'd imagine.

Murgdan on the left, me on the right.

(this was not at a Waffle House, btw)

I know this post was extremely long and if you made this far, I owe you one. I really could write a thousand more words about this trip, and it still would not do these ladies justice. Which is the main reason it has taken me almost A WEEK to post it - I swear I've rewritten it a gajillion times. (And this is what she came up with?!) I also struggled with what the title of this post should be, my other option was "The Blogger Went Down to Georgia", but I decided on this one, which I have to give Carli credit for. She said it in one of our many emails regarding this trip.

I want to take a moment to thank all of you for your support over the last few months and even years. I wish I could spend at least a weekend with each one of you. I continue to be awestruck by the countless number of outstanding women I've met here.

And now it's time for me to apologize for my lack of commenting... Things have been REALLY crazy lately so my commenting has been uber lousy - and I'm sorry for that. I've been checking up on most of you, but not had the time to leave a note. Please know I plan to get back on track VERY soon!!!

Inconsistency

Thank you all for the birthday wishes, my weekend was better than I could have hoped for. We went to dinner Friday night, did a movie marathon Saturday during the day, then finished up by using my spa gift cards (from Christmas) to get both of us massages! Which were fantastic save one thing. My girls. O-M-F-G do my boobs hurt. Laying on my stomach while the masseuse was doing my back was borderline agony. I almost asked her to stop. I've grown accustomed to the typical cast of characters as far as my PMS goes, but it's been all over the place since dealing with meds. Namely the progesterone. Sore boobs have always been a significant symptom, they'd start getting sore the day after I ovulated, and continue that way until I got my period. But once I started the progesterone the soreness was gone... HALLELUJAH!!! I sort of welcomed all the other crappy side effects from the Prometrium because I had been spared from the two weeks of barely being able to sleep on my stomach because my girls hurt so bad... Actually the worst part was taking off my bra at the end of the day.

But now my last two cycles have been fairly strange. The first period I had after my last BFN was nine days early. And I'm fairly certain I didn't ovulate, I'm one of the freaks who can feel it, and I never had any EWCM. And I'm pretty sure I didn't ovulate in February either because again both main indicators were MIA. As was my period, which this time was nine days late. And all the while, my girls stayed silent. Until I got my period, she showed up the day after I finally gave in and tested. (No miracle BFP for us, no way, no how!) So since the day my tardy period showed up my girls have been sore. I finally ovulated on Wednesday last week and from that day on they've gotten even MORE sore - GAH! At one point Brian got so tired of hearing me complain that he barked out: "Jesus, you should go get them checked out!" As if they're sprained ankles or something... I was about to sarcastically thank him for his compassion when he quipped that it would probably suck a lot if his boys were sore for weeks at a time. Indeed, Sir.

Anyone else have anything like that? - Odd cycles and strong PMS symptoms after stopping medicated cycles?

Anyway, where was I ? Right - the weekend. So yes, I had a lovely birthday although I insisted that Brian not call it my "birthday weekend" and just call it my "me-time". I didn't really want to acknowledge it much. Thirty one - oy vey. It's not that I feel old or anything, it's just absorbing the fact that I'm not twenty-two anymore. Which in a way - thank gawd for that. But you know what I mean... Back to my "me-time" I think hands down the best part of my weekend was having Brian all to myself. He's been pretty busy with his company as of late, so it was quite the treat to steal him away. Thanks for spoiling me dear.