Maintaining My Hatred of Progesterone

I can appreciate the fundamental necessity of Progesterone, but in my life even before ART, it has proven to be a thorn in my side. My breasts are typically sore from the time I ovulate, to a few days after my period starts. Which is just over two weeks at a time. So now that I am post transfer, Standard Operating Procedure is to supplement the bodies own production with messy vaginal suppositories and painful intramuscular injections that require a 25 gauge inch and a half long needle in which to deliver the goods. I'm on day six of said injections and I already find myself wincing as pull my jeans over my backside. And after the shot on the day of the transfer I took the bed rest order a little too seriously and chose not to walk around after the injection. The burning sensation in my left asscheek had me tossing and turning until after 1am.  And last night within ten minutes of starting those bastard little suppositories, I had noticeable cramping.

I use a heating pad before and after the shot.
I've warmed the part of the needle with the progesterone in it, to thin the oil
I walk around after
Is it still normal to be SO sore???
The shot itself doesn't hurt - it's the next day that I feel it.

Oh and my girls are already sore.

That said, here's to eight more weeks of it! 


I'm feeling much better in general. Though I continued to feel bloated and tired from the OHSS, the Gatorade liquid restriction made a huge difference. And after the retrieval I felt exceptionally better with each passing day. The only thing I've noticed is that my belly is still a little distended, anyone else have that? 

Oh, one bit of good news. We have one little guy that made it to freeze on Day Six. A Grade II Blastocyst. I had really prepared myself for the possibility of not having any at all, so to say I'm relieved would be an understatement. I promise I'll get my transfer day pictures up soon - we've gotten a new printer and I haven't managed to figure out the scanning function yet. With all the amazing advances in technology I must say there is still no love for the printer...

Mothership

I took this week off of work, and with the exception of my boss/bff, everyone thinks I had an emergency appendectomy.  I'm totally in the closet at work, but in 10 weeks when I have real news to share I'll probably tell most of them the truth.  I knew that I would want this week to recover from the retrieval, (and boy was I right on that), but I also knew that I needed some down-time for myself. To be still. With my heparin and PIO shots being the only things with significant directive over my day.  And I'm grateful to inform you that I have accomplished just that.


I found quiet.


I found sunshine.


I found some long sought-after peace.


My week has been pretty fantastic and I'll likely share about it at a later date, but I've been getting all kinds of endearing harassment from a select few of you asking for an update. And I can't tell you how much that means to me - you know who you are. Part of me feels bad, because I assumed with having taken all this time off that I would be updating like crazy, but I've just spent a lot of time being a lazy bum and enjoying the sudden onset of gorgeous weather in the Bay Area.


Yes, we had our transfer yesterday morning. It went well. And wow, it was so much more emotional than I ever expected. The first part of our appointment was spent in Dr. 3's office, going over our embryo report. We have five little guys left:


1 Grade I - Blast, which by the time our actual transfer came, was a borderline Expanded Blastocyst
2 Grade II - Early Blastocyst
2 Grade III - Early Blastsocyst


At that point Dr. 3 talked to us about just how many we planned to transfer. He said aside from our one little rock star, based on the quality of all the rest of the blasts we might want to consider transferring three. This was something Brian and I have discussed but not really recently. And the weight of having to make a game day decision on this suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. Brian began to speak saying that he of course wants the best chances of us having an actual take-home baby but... Then he looked at me and I couldn't help but take the lead and ultimately say what felt like the last word. I want more than anything than to increase our chances of becoming parents BUT, I just can't imagine putting myself in the position to have triplets, nor do I want to be in the position to have to selectively reduce. I know ladies out there who've been in both situations; keeping High Order Multiples and Selectively Reducing - and you're incredible women. And I couldn't think more highly of you all - it's just not something I can willingly put myself in the middle of. So I turned to Brian with the most sincere open hearted stare looking for his approval, and he nodded. Then I looked at Dr. 3, and asked him to transfer the best two. Dr. 3 said if I were 38, and not 32 he would be pushing for three, but he thinks we made "a fine decision"... 


The discussion closed with some information about the rest of our embryo's. The lab will let them grow to day six to see where they end up. Best case scenario we get three frosties. But more likely is the case that we end up with one or none to freeze. That part part hurts. I had put quite a bit of faith in the fact that we would have frozen embies hanging out somewhere. We'll probably find out tomorrow what, if any made it.


Brian and I were taken to the very back and given gowns and hair nets. I got a Valium, while he got to keep his pants on. I laid down on the table and they prepped me for the transfer. Then a nurse brought in a folder with the picture of our little blasts. And I lost it. I wept softly, while Brian and I looked at each other and the picture with sheer awe and amazement. Dr. 3 came in with a huge smile and demanded to know if mine were tears of joy. Of course they were. We're here. We've made it so far. And I'm the closest to being pregnant that I've ever been. 


My beta is Sunday April 10th. 


I have no idea if I'll test before then.

We Have Embryo's...

I woke up this morning feeling only slightly better than yesterday. Which isn't saying much. My retrieval was scheduled at 11am, but Dr. 3 was running behind. They had arranged my procedure to be the last of the morning because I had the most follicles of their patients also scheduled for the day. 17-18 that they could see. They wheeled me back to the  - what is that? an OR? - Whatever the name, it was a little surreal, let's just say that. I proceeded to lay on the table in the padded stirrups for what felt like an eternity while the nurse babbled on about my husbands chosen profession. In reality it was only about 25 minutes, and I was long gone within about a minute and a half of Dr. 3 gracing us with his presence. Afterward they managed to wake me up just before transferring me from the table to a gurney and I could hear the doctor telling me it had taken less than 20 minutes and that I'd done very well. I remember asking how many eggs they got, but he said he wasn't sure yet. Still, I persisted "lots?"... "Did you get lots of eggs?" And I'm pretty sure I remember them laughing at me.


The next thing I knew I woke up crying in recovery and asking the nurse for Brian. She gave me a heating pad for my abdomen and shot of a pain killer in my IV.  I remember several people asking me why I was crying, and to tell you the truth I'm not sure I could narrow it down to one specific thing. I felt relieved that this part was over. I felt grateful to see my husband standing over me with concern. But I also felt violated by the fact that I even had to go to these lengths to achieve such a common human experience. Parenthood. And suddenly none of what I was doing there made any sense.  How do blood draws, and stabbing myself in the stomach repeatedly with fine gauge needles, and procedures that require general anesthetic, and lab technicians, and petrie dishes... how does all this lead to motherhood? It felt so unnatural. Unfair.


But maybe that was just the pain talking. Because my mood quickly elevated from there. They gave me a box of apple juice, and propped me up so that I could feel a little more normal. Shortly after that I felt decent enough to change back in to non-assless clothes, and before we knew it Dr. 3 came in to sit down with us. First he reviewed the follow up "NK Assay" blood panel they had taken earlier in the week. Great news: The Humira and Dexamethasone had done their jobs and all of my levels were normal. This meant that I wouldn't be required to do the ($700 per session) Intralipid infusion until after a positive pregnancy test. The plan they initially set for me required one at the retrieval, one after the transfer and then every few weeks after positive betas. Whew, deep breath. Then he told us they got 19 eggs. Nineteen... We were  thrilled. 


I spent the rest of the day in bed with my new best friend Mr. Heating Pad. Seriously, if you have a retrieval pending be sure to pick one of these bad boys up. Brian took great care of me, getting up and down, going back and forth with my every whim. Dr. 3 told us that we'd likely get a call by "lunch-time" today with our fertilization report, but they tortured us until a little after 1pm. Out of the 19 retrieved, 11 were mature, and 9 fertilized normally. That's an 82% fertilization rate. Which is pretty good. Which is why I feel like a total asshole for being a bit disappointed that we didn't have more mature eggs. But such is the life of a PCOS gal. We can produce quantity, but not always quality. Intellectually I know that nine embryo's is good.  And I will keep telling myself that. NINE IS GOOD. But my poor little infertile heart wanted more. More mature, more to choose from, more to freeze. I know we're lucky to have this many and to have even gotten this far, so I'm going to end it on that. Nine is good, and we're lucky.


I won't hear anymore about the status of our embies until Thursday, when we go in for our transfer.  Please keep our little ones in your thoughts until then. Thanks again for all of your support.

Livin' Large

It's official. I'm incredibly uncomfortable. I can't button my pants, my lower back is killing me. I have to pee ever thirty-eight minutes and I think I can feel my ovaries in the back of my throat. I started feeling my (other) girls the day after I started stims, which was both exciting and remarkably comforting at first. And actually even up to Monday evening. But starting Tuesday night they woke me up whenever I rolled over. You know how if you tap one balloon in a bouquet of ballons that they all ripple in turn. That's what my ovaries feel like every time I move. Bending over, sitting down, getting up, coughing. All of that makes them ripple, and it's not cute anymore.

But I can see the light. We're almost there. Even after having four shots and blood draw on Monday. Five shots on Tuesday. (Oh, I added Heparin twice a day beginning Monday night.) I calculated everything and I'm 88 shots in with a whole fucking lot more to go... I'm not a needle phob by any means, but I'm starting to get some serious bruising from all of the shots. And the Heparin is only going to make things worse according to my nurse. I want you all to understand how grateful I am to be here, period, but the physical toll of IVF just hit me like a Mack Truck, and I can feel the effects head to toe. This shit is hard.

But I know I can do it.

My appointment went well this morning despite running AN HOUR late. Follies on the left measuring  15 -16mm, Follies on the right measuring 16 - 17mm. I was instructed to "coast" tonight. No Follistim, No Menopur. Just Heparin and Lupron. I'll trigger tomorrow night (WOO HOO!!!) And my retrieval will be Saturday morning! If I don't sound more enthusiastic it's only because my rising levels of Estrogen are making me feel EXHAUSTED. And a bit weepy. I cried last night when Bethany asked Julie to be Bryn's Godmother. Okay, I might have cried over that anyway, but I'm playing my IVF meds card and there's nothing you can do about it.

While explaining my current experiences to Dr. 3 and the nurse, they both agreed that I'm at the very early stages of OHSS and have placed me on a liquid restricted diet. I can have no more than one liter of Gatorade per day. No soup, no milk - which means no cereal (balls!), and no smoothies. Like the one I had been dreaming of getting on my way back to my office, but oh well. I know there is more stuff I wanted to say, but I'm kind of out of it right now. Any questions, ask away!

Proceed Follies, Proceed.

First things first, I'm happy to report:  No crazy dreams leading up to the first monitoring appointment. My hoo-hoo wasn't displayed on a Megatron, picture window, or skype for that matter. All good things. As I type this I can only wonder if the whore-bag cyst had anything to do with that. The official report is that she's gone for good! I was super nervous going in that I'd have one giant follie the size of Rachel Zoe, and end up getting cancelled fo' shiz. But Dr. 3 was quite happy with my progress and didn't see that hooker anywhere.

So with all this excitement I have no choice but to whip out my bullet points. (oh my)

• Left Side: 8 follies, all measuring 12 - 13mm
• Right Side: 9-10 follies, all measuring 12 - 13mm
• Lining: 8.3mm
• Estrodial: 587
• Prolactin: 18

Dr. 3 was all smiles this morning, and said that my progress was on the higher side of the median he likes to see. I feel good about that. I think. I go back on Wednesday for another monitoring check, but he thinks I could trigger as early as Wednesday night, possibly Thursday. Which meeeeeans, my ER could be Friday or Saturday!!!

I really, really can't believe our time is finally here. I'm so ridiculously happy right now.  My pants are unbuttoned, and I'm smiling like an idiot - I just can't believe we'll have our very own embryo's this weekend. I love them already - is that weird?

So next up: Meds are the same tonight and tomorrow, except that I'll add in Heparin which brings me to four shots per night, oy. I know that it'll soon be two, once I'm off the stims and start the Progesterone in Oil. Which I've heard is heavenly (she says sarcastically). So again, I ask for your wisdom and experience - what are the best ways to minimize the ouchiness of the POI shots? I've heard horror stories of welts, and sore spots that last for MONTHS. I'd like to avoid that, please and thank you. So, spill it.

Me, On Stims...

Stims are going well so far, I'm happy to report that the Follistim Pen is not nearly as complicated as I imagined. I don't know why, but I was feeling very intimidated by the concept of it alone. Maybe because if you don't pay close enough attention to what you're doing you can destroy $900.00 in meds fairly easily. Thank gawd I can trust Brian not to screw it up.

I'm three days in on stims, and I have to say three shots a day is already getting old. (remember I've been on Lupron since January 16th) AND HOLY CRAP is Menopur a dirty tramp - Why the hell didn't anyone tell me how much that shit stings?!?! If you think I curse a lot here, you should have heard me when the stinging first kicked in. I can handle the shots themselves, it's a little pinch then it's over. And I think I have a pretty decent pain tolerance but good lord... So I did a little research I found that icing helps. I iced for close to ten minutes before injections last night and barely felt a thing. And quick question. How soon into stims did you start to feel anything? I'm not uncomfortable in any way, but I noticed a different type of pressure yesterday. Like, a fullness. Very subtle. Am I nuts? Anyone else notice it this early?

My first monitoring appointment is on Monday, and I'm super excited. I'll go in first thing in the morning and pray that the whorebag cyst hasn't come back to suck up all my meds. I also hope to get a decent preliminary count of follies. This is where it gets tricky because I am constantly reminding myself to not to keep any expectations. SO. HARD. NOT. TO though...

Lastly. I must thank you all for your beautiful enthusiasm when I got the green light. Every one of your comments put a huge smile on my face... Thank you so much for that.

Grow follies, GROW! 
(butnottoofast) 
(HOLY CRAP, I've been saying that for so long, I can't believe it actually applies to ME.)
WOOO!

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!!!

Too Close For Missiles, Switching To Guns

While I haven't exactly hung my hat on the idea that aspirating my cyst will be the answer to my prayers,  the concept of it getting me to the point of finally being able to start stims and actually finish this cycle has at the very least, appeased the impatient foot stomping 12 year old in me.


This week began promising when I noticed spotting first thing Monday morning. Though it was pretty light, it seemed promising enough. By yesterday morning however, it was gone. Since my lining was at 4mm last Thursday, part of me wonders if that was a period... Dr.3 said nothing of spotting, he specifically told me to look for a period, so who knows. I sent my nurse an email to let her know about the spotting and to ask if there's anything I need to know or do for prep. I'll go in Sunday around 11:30am, and pray that this will be the nail in that whorebag's 27mm coffin. 


In the mean time, Brian and I have taken our first tiny step towards Foster Adoption. The county we live in holds orientations twice per month, so we agreed to go to the first one in April and I emailed an RSVP for that date as well as requesting an information packet. I don't know how close we are to moving forward, or if I/we are even 100% ready to move in that direction yet. Part me thinks it's my way of giving this cycle a hardy Johnny Cash-esque, middle finger coping with the monumental disaster that is our first attempt at IVF. And a small part of me sees our four year ttc anniversary steadily approaching and can't imagine drinking my way through one more of them without having something solid in the pipeline. It's just fucking time for us to be parents. I can't take this limbo shit anymore. 


Anyway. Wish me luck on Sunday. And if you've been through it before I'd be grateful for any tips or warnings. Thank you all again for your unwavering support. I'm just so grateful for all of you. 

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.

Defying Science

Ninety-nine percent of women using Lupron for more than 38 days would have seen a cyst/follicle collapse, and experienced bleeding shortly thereafter.

But not me.

According to Dr.3, my body is "defying science"…

Yesterday was CD30, so with no spotting to speak of I promptly picked up my phone and left a message for one of the nurses at my clinic. She called me back and with sincere sympathy asked if I’d be free for an u/s and blood draw first thing this morning.

I woke up early after being startled by a dream where at my ultrasound they found two more cysts and my lining was at 30mm (can you imagine? That would be the period to end all periods) Oh and the clinic was set up downtown and my room had a big giant picture window on the corner of a busy street. Making my hoohaa part of their window display. Dr.3 kept telling me not to worry about thaaat...

I didn’t go to this u/s expecting great news. I went in praying to receive a glimmer of hope and at the very least some information as to what the crap is going on.

The cyst is still there. And it’s bigger. BUT it’s bigger laterally – as in not round. It’s an oblong shape which implies that it’s in the process of collapsing. And my lining is down from 8mm, to 5mm. Which is good. The Lupron and my body are doing what they are supposed to, just at a profoundly slow rate. Dr. 3 thinks I could see my period within the next week, but to be safe they scheduled me for an u/s and blood draw for a week from today in case I don’t get my period by then.

I have mixed feelings about this information mostly because it appears as though my body is doing everything it's supposed to but at a snails fucking pace.  And then there are the mysterious goings on that have led to nothing: A)Three weeks ago I felt Ovulation pains. It's a very distinct type of pressure, that is to me, unmistakable. But obviously this thing is still around - so what the hell was that then??? 2) The Rage - what the crap was that all about? I literally felt crazy and I have the blog post to prove it. C) The other pms symptoms I usually get have come and gone... Oilier than normal hair and skin, sore/swollen breasts, bloating. Now nothing. I feel great. And what's worse is according to Dr.3 I should be having significant hot flashes as an indication that my estrogen is going down.  But, nope. I'm right as the mail. 

I feel angry and cheated by my body and circumstances. I wanted a January cycle, and with the long lupron protocol scheduling, I ended up in February. Now with this stupid delay I'm looking at a March retrieval and transfer. I STARTED THIS DAMN CYCLE IN DECEMBER- there must be a metal or badge or free fucking toaster for having the longest IVF cycle ever recorded. In the whole wide world. EVER.

But on a better note, I just got the call and my E2 is down to 125. From 346, and 414, and 391. So thank fucking Karl Lagerfeld for that. Except if my levels keep moving down at the same rate I'm looking at another nine days before I'm below 70 to get the go-ahead for stims. So I'll hang on to my white flag, and continue with obsessively check the toilet paper for some sign of menses. ANY SIGN.

Thanks for putting up with my ridiculousness. And mood swings. At least most of you can be thankful you don't know me in real life. Save Brian... Poor monkey.

Melissa G. - OUT.

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.

Benched

I really like my new clinic and Dr.3 for that matter, but if there is one complaint I have that runs true with all doctors I seem to have, it's tardiness. I always try to get the first appointment of the day so that there is less likelihood I will be stuck waiting because they're backed up by workload or because of some asshole that was late before me. And stuff happens, I totally get that. But let me at least keep my pants on until you're ready, mmmkay?

End Rant.

So we know that my appointment ran late, as per my diatribe. And we also now know why my E2 is all ridonkulous. It's a big, giant whore-bag cyst. A GIANT. WHORE-BAG. CYST. On my right side, where I mentioned having a slight pinchy twinge. It's a little over 23mm. He says it was a follicle that turned into a cyst, and it's just full of fluid and it will rupture in it's own sweet-ass time. (I don't really know the origins of cysts in general, but that's what mine is) He says he thinks it could happen relatively soon - hopefully this weekend. So for now, I continue with the 10 units of Lupron per day, curse the whore-bag cyst that lies within my lady parts, and wait for this shit to pass. They did do a blood draw, though Dr.3 thinks my E2 will likely be higher than it was two days ago, and will continue to rise until that bitch pops.

My acu lady will see me again on Saturday. I'm hoping she has a needle long enough to aspirate the little bastard, but that probably isn't the case...

I know this is not the end of the world, or my IVF cycle for that matter, but I'm pretty bummed. I go back in on Tuesday for another E2 check and an u/s. Hopefully then I will get the green light to start stims. Thank you so much for all of your support and information, please send some cyst rupturing juju my way when you get a chance.

I Had Been Waiting For This

The first big bump in the road. Over the last few weeks I have been quietly marveling over the fact that this cycle was going so well so far, other than the breakthrough bleeding and extraordinarily sore breasts (like not able to sleep on my stomach). I hadn’t had any side effects from the Lupron, Brian and I have been getting along better than ever and bonding over each shot he administered. I’ve been meditating regularly, yes I  drank the Circ.le+Blo.om koolaide. And my overall mood was happy,and better yet stable. And while being mindful of the fact that this was still very early in the cycle, and that my dosage was low, so of course the side effects wouldn’t be outrageous, I remembered that any moment now my bubble could burst.

And so it did.

I was pretty bummed yesterday, so after work on my way home I did my best to initialize some Damage Control. I stopped in for groceries, picked myself up some pretty flowers and stayed the hell away from the pies. Brian and I took the dog for a long walk and after that I slowed down for a few minutes to listen to a mediation session. Which helped to bring my blood pressure down to a less than lethal level. Then I poured myself a nice tall glass of apple cider in a Crystal Champagne Flute. Which did a little less for me than I’d hoped – man I could have really used a bottle glass of wine to take the consciousness away edge off.

Today is better. I’m going in for an acupuncture appointment this afternoon. My therapist there (aren’t they though?)  said that if it was indeed a cyst she could help with that, but if it turns out to be from the Lupron then I will have just burned up one of my limited allotted sessions (insurance crap). But really I think it will be beneficial for my head, as well, so I can take some time to tune out.

 I’ve also had plenty of time to read through your comments. You all are amazing, and I’m incredibly thankful for your knowledge, compassion and support. And while I’m grateful for each comment and that so many of you took the time even just to say, “ I don’t know, but that sucks and I’m sorry”, here are a few that helped me breathe or laugh:

“Dr.3 is THE MAN, and can deal with this”  - Meg. (a patient of his.)

You’re so right. I do have plenty of faith in him, and I’m sure this is the last thing he wants to see as well.

“I had set-back after set-back… I never got cancelled and they go 50 eggs yesterday” – Krista.

Thank you, I’ll try to keep in mind that it is early and that a lot more could go wrong, but I shouldn’t let that steal my hope for success.

“Stay the hell off of Google” – Aramelle

You’re right. I know. I’m an emotional cutter.

“the hardest thing to do while in the process is to trust the process” – Baby bump Bound

Word.

Good stuff. So I agree with all of you too, I don't think it's Diminished Ovarian Reserve, I was just panicking and disecting the worst case scenario. I know it seemed like I was over reacting, but I felt like my body was already failing me, and FUCK - is it too much to ask that this ONE THING go smoothly?!?!  I also think that maybe the break-through bleeding could have been an indicator to the fact that I wasn't suppressed enough, but I'll have to get that verified by Dr. 3... I didn't actually post about it but the spotting ened up gettin much worse - like regular flow at one point...Yay TMI!  So.  I'm totally not expecting my number to be below 70 tomorrow, I'm just praying that it doesn't go up and that we get some kind of answer as to what the crap is going on in there. I'll be sure to update when I have news tomorrow. Thanks again!

E2=MG Stalled (Help Needed)

I went in this morning for my E2 (Estrodial) and CBC (platelet count). In order to get the clearance to start FSH and hMG (Follistim & Menopur), your E2 level needs to be lower than 70. When I went in last week to get instructions for administering Lupron, the nurse reviewed our calendar and explained how things would proceed step by step from here on out.

On January 20th, I would take my last active BCP and wait for my period to show. My next appointment would be January 25th, today, for the E2 & CBC. She then explained that if my period hadn’t shown by today, my E2 levels would likely not be low enough to get cleared to start stims. I tried not to panic this weekend as my spotting noticeably cleared up (just in time right?), and then fortunately yesterday morning she made her appearance. And let me just say her presence is much more substantial than normal. So naturally I was pretty pumped. I knew that her presence by yesterday would mean that my levels would be dropping considerably. This morning Brian and I happily showed up at 8:30 for my blood draw and for the rest of the instructions on how to work the Follistim Pen and how to mix Menopur. The nurse was sweet and told me she’d call herself when she got the results back. And so she did. And as soon as the phone rang I had a funny feeling the news would not be good…


My E2 level? 346.


Fuck.


So. I was told as of now, not to start stims Thursday night. But I will need to go in Thursday morning for another E2 check, and an ultrasound to rule out any cysts. Fuck.


I have of course consulted Dr. Google only to find horrible information that makes me think IVF will never work for us. Basically one site indicated that elevated levels can point to a problem with ovarian reserve. Which can significantly lower IVF success rates. The only thing that kept me from hurtling myself on to the train tracks, was that I pulled up my records from my Full Blood panel on CD3 in October, and my E2 was 34. So the other possible scenarios, which I discussed with my nurse are:


A) It could be due to a Cyst. I have never had or been diagnosed with a cyst before, but I am technically poly cystic – so maybe now is just the time. Fanfuckingtastic.

B) My nurse said she has seen cases where Lupron actually causes stimulation instead of suppression, which in that case would cause a higher E2.


Now comes the part where I get to stew and over analyze things without having factual information to back it up. In the last few weeks I have, off and on, felt a strange pinching twinge on my right side near where my ovary would be. My right side is my dominant side, if that means anything at all. No pain, just a weird pinch while sitting up in bed, sporadically. It could have been gas, who knows.


Here are my concerns: I’m only on 10 units of Lupron per day. Which seems low compared to other bloggers – I know, I know, you’re not supposed to compare cycles since everyone is different. But really it seems low.


I could really use some more information about this, whether from experience or a reputable website.


HALP!

Because I Made My Own Bed

Previous to falling face first in to what is certainly the most challenging period of my life, I had imagined growing old with the small group of close friends we kept.

Old and gray, with grandkids in our laps.

But things change. I’ve changed. And as our years in the realm of infertility have gone on, I have slowly removed myself from the bulk of what once was a close group of friends. They have kids now. And seeing them makes my heart ache in the worst possible way.

Infertility has greatly impacted every single one of my friendships. And more often than not, I’m sorry to say, it has been negative.

I’ll fully admit that 95% of the friendships that have waned are a direct result of my actions. I have chosen self-preservation over sucking it up and throwing on a smile at yet another friends baby shower, or baby’s birthday. Hell, I can barely even manage to keep my shit together during a simple dinner when children are present.

So I suppose it’s only natural that at some point, after so many declined invitations, said friends would stop inviting us to parties and or casual gatherings. And while I'm sure that their decision was not easy one to make, I can’t help but grieve the place where we used to be. And I struggle with whether it was wrong that they didn’t even bother to invite us, or if they actually did us a favor by letting us off the hook? But basically my choices are feeling bad about not going or feeling bad about not being invited. Nobody wins.

I have made a lot of truly incredible friends within the ALI community. Seriously, some exceptionally amazing people. And I wouldn’t trade those friendships for the old ones I had. But I hope to hell that if I ever get out of here, I might someday get them back.

2011 ICLW

Greetings ICLWer’s, and Happy 2011! Whether 2010 was your year or it sucked more than Sex and the City II, I’m sure you’re likely glad to see a new year come around.

As for me, I fall in the latter category but I have a sneaking suspicion 2011 is going to make up for that and the heinousness that was the last three and a half years. My husband and I have been ttc since the summer of 2007, and it’s been a whirlwind of heartbreak, desperation, and general ickiness. All of which I feel lucky enough to say has brought us infinitely closer. (Though 10 months of marriage counseling didn’t hurt either). We took most of 2010 off to recuperate emotionally and financially, you can read about our long drawn out history here, or check out the bullet point version in the timeline tab up above for time's sake.

On this very fine day, you should know that I am on day 6 of Lupron and took my last active BCP yesterday. All this for our very first (and very much hopefully LAST) IVF w/ ICSI cycle. Next Thursday I’ll start Follistim, Menopur and Dexamethasone. We’re looking at a potential retrieval date around February 6th -9th , and hoping for a day five transfer. Does anyone else feel like I should be telling you what altitude we’re flying at? Sorry if this intro was a little lackluster, I’m currently, and equally overwhelmed with excitement for our cycle and my job workload.

At any rate, Happy ICLW and thanks for stopping by!

Ten Units Please!

Lupron shot number one is DOWN! Annnnnd my husband is a total rock star for two reasons: 1) I am still alive and 2) I didn’t feel a thing! I panicked only a little in an excited-giggly-school-girl kind of way, but got over it pretty quickly when I realized he was doing the shot but it didn’t hurt a bit! I am by no means a needle-phob, I’ve just never had anyone who wasn’t professionally trained, jab a needle in my arm. Good times. So as recommended by my in-cycle nurse we are doing the Lupron in the fatty part of the back of my upper arm. (Ironically the place I like to torture the people I love with a surprise pinch when they don’t know I’m behind them.) Because at one point we will be doing three shots per day, she recommended not using all of the “real-estate” on my stomach since it can get sore. Sounds fair to me.

So call me Spotty-Mc–TMI-Spotterson, I’m still spotting but it’s starting to clear up RIGHT IN TIME for me to finish up BCP’s on Thursday and wait for AF to show. Nothing like having your period for two weeks... So the spotting actually got worse starting Friday night, and stayed that way through Sunday. (Like bright red, and requiring more than a liner) I did call in and actually spoke with Dr. 3 since he is on call after hours. My nurse told me to call if it got worse, so I did. I felt a little sheepish bugging him for something that seemed so trivial, but A) I don’t know enough about IVF to gauge if my spotting should even be considered trivial, mostly due to fact that Dr.Google, and all of you seemed to have been treated differently per your respective clinics. And B) I remembered how much we’re paying this chump, he can take a three minute phone call from me don't think he minded that much. Anyhoo, he diplomatically, and promptly explained that it was fine. That they prefer not to ask patients to double up on BCP’s because most people just end up complaining of nausea and go back to taking one per day anyway.

So HOLY CRAP we’re really doing this! I’m feeling really good, and taking a lot of time for myself by thinning out our schedule. It’s been really nice to have the extra alone time with Brian, and not having too much going on socially is a bigger relief than I realized it would be. By the way, thanks so much for all of your thoughtful comments. Even though it’s still early in the cycle you’ve been extremely supportive and super cheerleader-y and I really, truly appreciate it.

GO INJECTABLES!

Break On Through - Updated

Let the "Oh crap, what does this mean" moments begin.

I started spotting pretty heavily this morning, dark red. It's only CD 21. I haven't missed a bcp and I've been taking them around the same time every night.

I left a message on the non-emergency line with my In-cycle nurses, because it doesn't seem like an emergency. What say you veterans? Should I be concerned with a little break-through bleeding, or just annoyed at the inconvenience?

Thanks in advance!

____________________________________________________________________

Thanks to all of you who shared your experiences or even just left an encouraging comment. I did hear back from my nurse. She said it's totally normal, and yes annoying, but not to worry. She warned that if it turns into more than spotting, I need to call them and they may have me double up or even come in for an u/s. So far it's lightened up a bit. The other side effect I've had from bcp's has been really sore boobs (which is a common pms issue for me) for about the first two weeks, but they're fine now.

Thanks again ladies!

Meds

This afternoon the Mr. and I will head down to our clinic for injection training. I'm quite certain he's been waiting for a legitimate reason to stab me since about September of 2007.

Saturday I cruised over to the pharmacy to pick up my stash. As the technician handed me the neatly packed bag, I felt surprisingly underwhelmed by the size and weight of it all. The bag containing my burger and fries from In-N-Out that I picked up on the way there weighed more than the $3,800 dollar's worth of medications I now held at my side. Not that I anticipated needing a hand truck to get to my car or anything, but it sure didn't feel like much. It wasn't even all that real until I started taking the pictures of my loot, that it really hit me.

This is for us

For our IVF cycle

It's here. FINALLY.

Hers.

His.

My list of meds to date:

Folgard

Metformin

Pre-natal

Low Dose Asprin

Birth Control

Calcium

Humira

Lupron

Dexamethasone

Cipro - antibiotic

Menopur

Follistim

(Complete with lucky pen)

Novarel - trigger

Brian's meds:

Cipro.

(nice, huh?)

Although to be fair he's been taking a hefty load of supplements since June. Six pills twice a day. Remember the tic tacs? They worked - sort of. Not enough to get us there the old fashioned way. But enough to have made it worth it.

I start Lupron Sunday.

Holy crap.

New Year, New Way for Life To Point And Laugh At Me

Holy Hell people, the last few weeks have been such a whirlwind, I hardly know where to begin. Oh wait! Happy fricken' 2011! Sweet Jesus was I glad to see 2010 go. I learned a lot, I grew a lot. I'm OVER IT, and ready to kick some mayjah infertile ASS, à la a viable pregnancy. Savvy?

Good.

There have been lot of changes in the last few weeks, lots of ups and downs - none of which I have blogged about. Mostly because I've been trying to process everything internally, and with Brian. I don't mean to make that sound scary, and no I'm still not running for Governor. We've recently had an epiphany of sorts regarding finances and really just how far we're willing to go into debt to make this whole parenthood thing happen. And well, it made me feel pretty blue at first. The reality of how much your financial parameters impacts your ability to pursue treatments really sucks balls, and I threw myself a little pity party in lieu of.

Realistically we are able to do this IVF cycle. And I know there are plenty of others who can't afford to get that far. But my eyes were a little bigger than our pocket book and the long term actuality is such that the two package deal we wanted to do is a little out of our grasp. We can afford the cost of the package itself, but if we have to do additional cycles we'd have a hard time coming up with the gravy to cover additional meds. Meds for a fresh cycle will run us about 6k, and FET's will be at least 3k. Not something I could have know until we got all of our prescriptions from Dr.3. So. Since we're about two shakes from knocking of a liquor store to pay for this cycle as it is, we decided to draw the line at one fresh IVF (and of course any FET's, if we're lucky enough to end up with frosties). And if after all that we wind up with empty arms, we can move on to Foster Adoption knowing we gave it the old college try, without putting ourselves in financial ruins. It's really the most sound decision we've made since the determination to take last year off, and it feels so right.

So last week we signed our lives away and I wrote the biggest check I've ever written (my hand was actually shaking as I wrote it, and for a split second I forgot how to spell "thousand"). And yesterday afternoon I ordered and paid for all the meds we'll need for this cycle. Pickin' em up tomorrow! Wooo!

And about an hour after the confirmation from my pharmacy for the meds, I got a call from the University where we got our second opinion. Can you guess where this is going? Cause I sure as hell couldn't. Like three weeks ago I finally got the bill for the consultation we had LAST January, so I thought this was a "where's my money, fool" call. But, no. This was from the Research Department. For Clinical Trials. She wanted to know if I would be interested in adding my file for review of eligibility for an ALL EXPENSES PAID Cycle of IVF, under an FSH study. Seriously. And SERIOUSLY?!?!

The review for candidates wouldn't be for a few more weeks, so asked to keep my name on the list. After we hung up, I pulled my jaw off the floor, and started to process all of the information she gave me. Here is what I realized 1. I am being reviewed for eligibility, so this isn't even a sure thing. And 2. Even with that phone call, as much as it took my head clean off, I don't regret having signed and paid for our current IVF cycle with Dr.3 - mostly because I genuinely believe it's going to work the first time. But also because it gives me the tiniest bit of hope that if it doesn't, we might, maybe-a-little-bit, have the possibility of qualifying for a clinical trial at some point and that all hope of someday being pregnant won't ride on this single cycle.

Up until this phone call I had forgotten that a few months ago in a brokeass and hopelessness induced fit, I had called their research department regarding clinical trials only to find out we didn't qualify for anything - at that time.

So in summation: Life goes on. The plan is this, A) Obviously go on with our current cycle, it's fucking paid for now. B) Wait for her call. If she calls next month I'll see what the time lines are like and ask for an extension until the end of February, when I'll know where we stand. C) Hope for the best on all accounts. If there is one thing I learned during my 2010 recon mission, it's patience, and that I truly believe things work out the way they are supposed to, which I know from experience means: never the way you planned, so get over it. Quick. So as for the new year, I have no fricken idea what 2011 might bring me, but at this very moment I have a buttload of hope and aspiration for greatness.