Because I just found out.
Sorry for the delay. Nurse is on vacation (fair enough) so there's been a little phone tag between me and the clinic. I am connected with a new cool nurse for the interim and she's done her best to get me up to date on findings and next steps.
Biopsy came back clean = yay
BUT my endometrium wasn't "in phase," meaning, it should have appeared to be in the 23-25th day of my cycle. It was lounging around 18th or 19th. Slacker.
So, we are gearing up for BRAND SPANKIN' NEW FET CYCLE starting with lupron injections on the 23rd. We've got a NEW and IMPROVED protocol which consists of double doses of PIO and oh I can't bear the anticipation progesterone suppositories.
Eww.
None of this is surprising. I was kind of guessing that was where it was all headed - towards the ickiness that some of you have described oh so graphically (which, frankly, I appreciate). But hey, the good news is, nothing was found that feels insurmountable. We are back on the baby-making train again. We are starting something new, doing things a little different. And I have been working like a MF to get my Qi (chi) and my mind right and ready for babyness.
Now if only my acupuncturist would call me back....
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Am I a Weenie?
If the comments on the NY Times article starring the beautiful and brave Pamela Jeanne make me cry?
Because they do.
Part of me is compelled to speak. To add my voice to the din. The rest of me wants nothing to do with the conversation. Wants nothing to do with this "lifestyle choice" called infertility and the drama and the angst and the anger it creates. Not to mention hostility. Since when was wanting to have a child an offensive and egregious act of selfishness? Since when was adoption this simple, cheap and only morally correct way to build a family? And more importantly, why is medical intervention absolutely applauded in every other aspect of our bodies and our lives.
Except this one?
Look.
I am just trying to make a baby without no drama.
Well, why don't you just adopt?
-I am an adoptee and I don't want to adopt. I just don't want to.
Well, why did you wait so long to try to have a child?
-I didn't wait. I waited until medical technology caught up with and was able to deal with the fact that my ovaries and eggs were destroyed by medical technology 20 years ago. So, unless you wanted me to try to pop some kiddies out at age 12, (which would have brought out a whole different set of condemnations) waiting ain't the issue.
How can you mourn/be sad/bitch about something you never had?
-How can one ask such a ridiculous question? We ALL mourn things that we don't or can't "have." And define "never had." Ask when life begins and you will receive very, very different answers from different individuals. To judge when and how someone should mourn is almost as offensive as judging their desire to be a parent and the path they choose to take.
We could all add to this list. It goes on and on and on. And you know what? For every query or accusation that is thrown my way or in the direction of another woman wanting to conceive, we have answers. A response.
I wish someone would grant us the same courtesy.
Because they do.
Part of me is compelled to speak. To add my voice to the din. The rest of me wants nothing to do with the conversation. Wants nothing to do with this "lifestyle choice" called infertility and the drama and the angst and the anger it creates. Not to mention hostility. Since when was wanting to have a child an offensive and egregious act of selfishness? Since when was adoption this simple, cheap and only morally correct way to build a family? And more importantly, why is medical intervention absolutely applauded in every other aspect of our bodies and our lives.
Except this one?
Look.
I am just trying to make a baby without no drama.
Well, why don't you just adopt?
-I am an adoptee and I don't want to adopt. I just don't want to.
Well, why did you wait so long to try to have a child?
-I didn't wait. I waited until medical technology caught up with and was able to deal with the fact that my ovaries and eggs were destroyed by medical technology 20 years ago. So, unless you wanted me to try to pop some kiddies out at age 12, (which would have brought out a whole different set of condemnations) waiting ain't the issue.
How can you mourn/be sad/bitch about something you never had?
-How can one ask such a ridiculous question? We ALL mourn things that we don't or can't "have." And define "never had." Ask when life begins and you will receive very, very different answers from different individuals. To judge when and how someone should mourn is almost as offensive as judging their desire to be a parent and the path they choose to take.
We could all add to this list. It goes on and on and on. And you know what? For every query or accusation that is thrown my way or in the direction of another woman wanting to conceive, we have answers. A response.
I wish someone would grant us the same courtesy.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Jimmy Ain't Here
No Jimmy Hoffa. No E.T.s snarfing reese's pieces yearning to go home. Here's what the little camera saw:
We will no longer insert a stitch for future transfers. Doc did another mock transfer (why not? while you're down there....) and saw no need to irritate my cervix next time since the catheter went in smooth as silk without it. The sedation was wonderful. I nearly kissed the anesthesiologist when I saw him walk in. He asked me if my palms were always that sweaty. I said only in anticipation of seeing you, buddy.
It will take 7-10 days for the biopsy results to come back. But Doc seemed very pleased with all she found and did not find. Even hubby noticed it.
Her optimism is contagious.
Tonight, hubby is tired (it was a long drive and a long day for my patient and waiting partner). I am a little crampy, but happy.
And hopeful? I think we are both feeling hopeful for the first time in a while.
- 1 pesky polyp found. Removed. Out! Damned polyp.
- A little fibroid in an upper right corner - nothing worth removing says doc.
- All else looks good!
We will no longer insert a stitch for future transfers. Doc did another mock transfer (why not? while you're down there....) and saw no need to irritate my cervix next time since the catheter went in smooth as silk without it. The sedation was wonderful. I nearly kissed the anesthesiologist when I saw him walk in. He asked me if my palms were always that sweaty. I said only in anticipation of seeing you, buddy.
It will take 7-10 days for the biopsy results to come back. But Doc seemed very pleased with all she found and did not find. Even hubby noticed it.
Her optimism is contagious.
Tonight, hubby is tired (it was a long drive and a long day for my patient and waiting partner). I am a little crampy, but happy.
And hopeful? I think we are both feeling hopeful for the first time in a while.
Leaving Right Now
For my coochie photo shoot.
And can I just say, that I love you guys. Really, really love you.
I was chained to my computer yesterday, trying to get ready for a few days off work (I have like, a million sick days, why not take them, right?) and I was totally amazed by the number of texts, emails, and my gosh, phone calls that I received from friends and co-workers just saying they were thinking of me this week and just wishing me well.
Well shit. At first, I was like, oh my gosh - how does everybody know?
And then I remembered. Like by birthday, I have spent the last month talking about it.
Oh. Right. Sorry about that. I'm guessing you are pretty tired of the subject by now, hey?
At any rate, we're heading out. It takes about 2 hours to get to our RE so I'll have a nice long drive to dwell on things. With the rest of the week free from work obligations, I am hoping to catch up on NaComLeavMo and blog like a woman possessed. That might happen. It might not.
At any rate, thank you so much for your well wishes. I know so many of you have already been through these procedures. And I so appreciated your words of advice and your shared experience.
Did I mention I love you guys?
And can I just say, that I love you guys. Really, really love you.
I was chained to my computer yesterday, trying to get ready for a few days off work (I have like, a million sick days, why not take them, right?) and I was totally amazed by the number of texts, emails, and my gosh, phone calls that I received from friends and co-workers just saying they were thinking of me this week and just wishing me well.
Well shit. At first, I was like, oh my gosh - how does everybody know?
And then I remembered. Like by birthday, I have spent the last month talking about it.
Oh. Right. Sorry about that. I'm guessing you are pretty tired of the subject by now, hey?
At any rate, we're heading out. It takes about 2 hours to get to our RE so I'll have a nice long drive to dwell on things. With the rest of the week free from work obligations, I am hoping to catch up on NaComLeavMo and blog like a woman possessed. That might happen. It might not.
At any rate, thank you so much for your well wishes. I know so many of you have already been through these procedures. And I so appreciated your words of advice and your shared experience.
Did I mention I love you guys?
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Evening Funnies
"So, are you ready to play Sid and Nancy?"
"???????"
"I am shooting you up tonight, right?"
Hardy har. Thanks hubby. Meanwhile, I am perplexed with this question: How am I supposed to be a good earthy crunchy when I need to purchase an entire package of saran wrap for the sheer purpose of wrapping the corner of my ass with it? Hmm?? Oh sure, some of you hearty ladies will tell me I can forgo the emla cream (and its requisite wrap) and go bareback for my PIO shots...
That's not gonna happen.
"???????"
"I am shooting you up tonight, right?"
Hardy har. Thanks hubby. Meanwhile, I am perplexed with this question: How am I supposed to be a good earthy crunchy when I need to purchase an entire package of saran wrap for the sheer purpose of wrapping the corner of my ass with it? Hmm?? Oh sure, some of you hearty ladies will tell me I can forgo the emla cream (and its requisite wrap) and go bareback for my PIO shots...
That's not gonna happen.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Hottie Mommies and Such
This holiday weekend will officially be remembered as the weekend of deep and indulgent sleep.
After a pretty intense work week bookended by trips to the clinic for stripe checks (7.2 on Monday; 7.8 on Friday. Not bad, but not great. We can talk about that later), each and every morning was spent under the covers, dozing until well past 9 am. Because I could.
Most mornings, I would wake and contemplate all the things I could be doing with the early part of my day before coming to the conclusion that lounging in bed was exactly what I wanted to be doing. S0 that's what I did.
When I wasn't sleeping, I was repotting, cleaning, browsing the ArtsFest that graces our riverfront every Memorial Day weekend and generally enjoying a computer-free long weekend. Remember what that feels like? I didn't.
While at the ArtsFest, we made sure to check out one of our favorite local bands - a band which I've already decided should sing the soundtrack of that movie that should be made based on our lives. (I'm not the only person that does this, right? we all have soundtracks in mind, right?) So, I was already feeling a little melancholy halfway through their set - it's not like their songs address infertility at all. But they do, like most good country-rock balladiers, sing a lot about love, longing, wanting, journeys to better places, and the process (and the sometimes pain) of the trip.
I might have been projecting.
The group also has what seems to be a disproportionate amount of hottie mommies amongst their fans. And they were all out. With their adorable young 'uns. Dancing. Frolicking. Loving the music and the day. One of our single friends (a hottie himself) was near the stage and he kept getting bombarded with kids running off the dance floor and into his arms where he would toss them around and nudge them back out onto the concrete to dance some more. Of course, once one kiddie saw the treatment, they all wanted some roughhousing and love. So he had his hands full for at least 3 songs.
This guy, hot as h*ll already, was even hotter in the context of his affection to the kids, who may have been offspring of other friends, a sister, a relative. Who knows. All I know is, I was thinking, d*mn, I don't think I remember ____ being that hot.
And then I started thinking about my own hottie sitting right next to me and wondering what it would be like to see hubby in that same context, only with kids that were ours.
And I was suddenly regretting forgetting my sunglasses at home. Because I really needed them.
I don't usually get caught up in the longing so this caught me a little off guard. I wondered if hubby was feeling the same. But I didn't ask. Because I didn't want to know. Because I think I do.
And d*mmit. I want to be a hottie mommy, too.
After a pretty intense work week bookended by trips to the clinic for stripe checks (7.2 on Monday; 7.8 on Friday. Not bad, but not great. We can talk about that later), each and every morning was spent under the covers, dozing until well past 9 am. Because I could.
Most mornings, I would wake and contemplate all the things I could be doing with the early part of my day before coming to the conclusion that lounging in bed was exactly what I wanted to be doing. S0 that's what I did.
When I wasn't sleeping, I was repotting, cleaning, browsing the ArtsFest that graces our riverfront every Memorial Day weekend and generally enjoying a computer-free long weekend. Remember what that feels like? I didn't.
While at the ArtsFest, we made sure to check out one of our favorite local bands - a band which I've already decided should sing the soundtrack of that movie that should be made based on our lives. (I'm not the only person that does this, right? we all have soundtracks in mind, right?) So, I was already feeling a little melancholy halfway through their set - it's not like their songs address infertility at all. But they do, like most good country-rock balladiers, sing a lot about love, longing, wanting, journeys to better places, and the process (and the sometimes pain) of the trip.
I might have been projecting.
The group also has what seems to be a disproportionate amount of hottie mommies amongst their fans. And they were all out. With their adorable young 'uns. Dancing. Frolicking. Loving the music and the day. One of our single friends (a hottie himself) was near the stage and he kept getting bombarded with kids running off the dance floor and into his arms where he would toss them around and nudge them back out onto the concrete to dance some more. Of course, once one kiddie saw the treatment, they all wanted some roughhousing and love. So he had his hands full for at least 3 songs.
This guy, hot as h*ll already, was even hotter in the context of his affection to the kids, who may have been offspring of other friends, a sister, a relative. Who knows. All I know is, I was thinking, d*mn, I don't think I remember ____ being that hot.
And then I started thinking about my own hottie sitting right next to me and wondering what it would be like to see hubby in that same context, only with kids that were ours.
And I was suddenly regretting forgetting my sunglasses at home. Because I really needed them.
I don't usually get caught up in the longing so this caught me a little off guard. I wondered if hubby was feeling the same. But I didn't ask. Because I didn't want to know. Because I think I do.
And d*mmit. I want to be a hottie mommy, too.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
What's in There?
This morning hubby and I were lounging in bed, enjoying a lazy Saturday morning, taking bets on what exactly that little camera is going to find when it goes up in me on the 3rd.
He says aliens.
While that's funny, I doubt any pesky E.T.s would have escaped previous ultrasounds and tests.
My money's on finding a huge set of sharp teeth where my endometrium should be, ready to devour any unsuspecting embryos we place in its path. A deeper variation on vagina dentata.
And see, here is where you really need the visual I provided. I'll let you think up your own.
There's still plenty of time to put your wagers in. Any takers?
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