Friends, let me start by saying that I am not known for my patience, nor am I good at just letting things happen and hoping for the best. "Everything happens for a reason"?? Blech. I think not. I am a planner, a details person, and a worrier by nature... though the latter did not manifest itself until recent years. I used to have the attitude that I could handle anything and roll with the punches and that everything would work out, but somewhere in my journey to adulthood (and actually having a lot to lose for the first time in my life), that all changed, resulting in the paranoid mess you see before you.
The fact that I have not had an ultrasound since "graduating" from the RE on 1/6 coupled with not being able to get an initial consult with the OB until 2/6 is just torturous for someone like me. I was doing well until yesterday, when I felt a little queasy, but otherwise, really good. Too good? I'm worrying about feeling TOO good... again? What is my problem?! Why can't I be happy that I'm not barfing constantly? Because that doesn't convince me that everything is ok in there. Neither do the 4 pounds of belly and boob that I've gained so far. Or being super hungry, even in the middle of the night. Or having to pee all-the-time. Or that my acupuncturist can detect a fetal heartbeat through my pulses.
Sure, I could buy one of those at-home doppler machines off the internet for $50 plus shipping to give myself some reassurance, but I hesitate to make too many baby-related purchases before we can SEE that all is well. That, and it's difficult to find the heartbeat early on and I don't want to make myself crazier than I already am. We even postponed taking pictures for our big Facebook reveal (which, I promise, will not be obnoxious) because it seemed premature. Oh the insanity!
Let's not forget the little fact that nothing has happened to make me think anything is wrong. I have not miscarried, therefore, I am still pregnant.
The only conclusion is that I am a lunatic. Please don't let me pass this on to my child. It's not fun to be your own worst enemy.
Thank you for listening. I will now go count down the days, hours, minutes...
(7 days, 2 hours, 12 minutes)
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Trucking along
So, my posts will probably be less frequent now that the daily insanity of the IVF process has subsided. Since hearing the news that we are expecting, things have been good, bad, and weird... sometimes simultaneously.
The Good: Due to some spotting and bleeding (see The Bad below), we got to have a few early ultrasounds. At 6 weeks, we learned that there is one baby and it was measuring pretty much on track. At our "official" dating ultrasound a week later, we got to see the baby again, and this time it was measuring 3 days behind and had a heart rate of 120! That little flicker is awesome to see, and a little of the weight came off my shoulders at that moment because this significantly reduces our odds of miscarriage. Yay! Two days after that (again with The Bad), we got even better images to bring home and saw its little stubby arms and even a dark space at the top of its head where the brain would soon be forming! Truly amazing.
The Bad: As I mentioned, I had some issues with spotting and bleeding, starting right around the 6 week mark. From all of my reading, I know that a little spotting is common and nothing to be concerned about, but the disclaimer is usually that it be brown and not accompanied by cramping. As is my luck, *TMI Warning* I had a big ol' blob of red and brown when I went to the bathroom at work that day, which continued as reddish brown spotting. I kinda freaked. Those who know me intimately know that I always fear that the good things in my life will be taken away from me. That I don't deserve them somehow, so of course, it would all get ruined. All of those thoughts came flooding into my head, and I immediately emailed Susan (our nurse), got impatient, called the front desk, and begged to be seen. They squeezed me in right away and I fled the office to find out what was going on. Unfortunately, Justin was in the East Bay (he had the week between Christmas and New Years off and was vinyl record shopping in Berkeley), so I would be on my own until he could get there. Thankfully, the ultrasound showed all was well with The Bean, as we started lovingly referring to it, and they could not see any reason to be alarmed about the spotting. It tapered off later that evening and I felt better, only to have incident #2 smack me in the face.
On 1/3, we had our "official" ultrasound with Dr. Huddleston. It was scheduled for that day because she was on rotation, and it would be nice to have our actual doctor for this milestone. This ultrasound machine was obviously older, so the image wasn't great, but everything looked fine from what she saw, including the heart rate. She pointed out something to the side of the gestational sac and said it could be a little fluid and the cause of the spotting, and not to worry about it, even though it may continue for a while. Understatement of the century! Two days later and once again in the bathroom at work, *TMI* I looked down to see the toilet completely full of dark red blood. This cannot be good. I started shaking and trying to keep it together as I called the RE's office, and of course, they saw me right away. Justin was at work in the South Bay, so again, I was on my own. Stephanie, a practioner that I grew particularly fond of in the IUI days because of our shared affinity for funky patterned socks and the fact that she takes the time to thoroughly go over everything with me, came into the room and asked me a series of questions. She looked concerned. But, upon further inspection, the ultrasound showed the baby was happier than ever in there and the heart rate was up to 125, and it measured perfectly at 7 weeks and 2 days! I was so relieved, I could have passed out. She looked closely around the gestational sac and saw very clearly that there was a dark area adjacent it and diagnosed it as a subchorionic hemorrhage. It was small and located on the opposite end of the sac from the baby, and the side closest to the cervix. This meant that any bleeding as it resolves itself can just escape the uterus without disturbing the pregnancy at all. The prognosis is good, but until it goes away (hopefully by early second trimester), I can experience a scary moment like this again, or just on and off spotting. Unless it doesn't taper off in a few hours or is accompanied by major cramping, I should not worry (easier said than done). I have had continued spotting, though not every day, but it seems to have reverted back to the brownish color. We go back tomorrow morning for our final visit before "graduating" and moving on to the OB on February 6th. I'm hoping that everything is still on the up-and-up, at which point, I will allow myself to be officially excited.
The Weird: Ok. I know that we have worked VERY hard to get me pregnant. The money, the anxiety, the tears, you name it. But now that I actually AM, it's very strange. I mean seriously, there is something growing inside of me that does not yet resemble a human being. How is that not bizarre? My body is changing and my clothes are not going to fit soon. Pants are already a challenge. I cried during the National Anthem at a basketball game (WTF). I seem a little foreign to myself. Like I'm watching this happen, but it isn't really me. Well, the food aversions and crazy dreams and massive boobage (hello!) are all undeniable, but I guess it still seems surreal. And I don't really want to talk about having this baby until I can fully accept it myself. Even then, I dread the conversations where people ask me a million questions or "oo and ahh" or heaven forbid touch my stomach uninvited (Side note: I've decided that when people do this, I am going to touch their stomach right back. I mean, if they think we're cool enough to be that friendly with each other, then I should be able to do it too, right? I'll be sure to let you know how this goes when the time comes). Does everyone go through this? I think maybe to some degree.
I have never fancied myself as the "motherly" type. In fact, as a teenager, I insisted that I was going to to be a powerful New York City attorney and never have children. I didn't have the patience to babysit, and felt like kids in general were just not particularly fond of me. I did work full time in a day care for a few months after college, and enjoyed the experience, but let's just say that I'm not a "natural" the way some women feel they are. But that was the old me and maybe it's time to give myself more credit. At some point, I will settle into this new stage of life. I can already feel the contentment creeping in (though I am still afraid to accept it in case something goes wrong - infertility really messes with your head) and believe without a doubt that Justin and I are going to rock the whole parenthood thing. :)
I am praying to Jesus and Shiva and Buddha and Allah and L. Ron Hubbard and all those other deities that everything goes well tomorrow. Maybe then I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And heeeeerrre's baby!
The Good: Due to some spotting and bleeding (see The Bad below), we got to have a few early ultrasounds. At 6 weeks, we learned that there is one baby and it was measuring pretty much on track. At our "official" dating ultrasound a week later, we got to see the baby again, and this time it was measuring 3 days behind and had a heart rate of 120! That little flicker is awesome to see, and a little of the weight came off my shoulders at that moment because this significantly reduces our odds of miscarriage. Yay! Two days after that (again with The Bad), we got even better images to bring home and saw its little stubby arms and even a dark space at the top of its head where the brain would soon be forming! Truly amazing.
The Bad: As I mentioned, I had some issues with spotting and bleeding, starting right around the 6 week mark. From all of my reading, I know that a little spotting is common and nothing to be concerned about, but the disclaimer is usually that it be brown and not accompanied by cramping. As is my luck, *TMI Warning* I had a big ol' blob of red and brown when I went to the bathroom at work that day, which continued as reddish brown spotting. I kinda freaked. Those who know me intimately know that I always fear that the good things in my life will be taken away from me. That I don't deserve them somehow, so of course, it would all get ruined. All of those thoughts came flooding into my head, and I immediately emailed Susan (our nurse), got impatient, called the front desk, and begged to be seen. They squeezed me in right away and I fled the office to find out what was going on. Unfortunately, Justin was in the East Bay (he had the week between Christmas and New Years off and was vinyl record shopping in Berkeley), so I would be on my own until he could get there. Thankfully, the ultrasound showed all was well with The Bean, as we started lovingly referring to it, and they could not see any reason to be alarmed about the spotting. It tapered off later that evening and I felt better, only to have incident #2 smack me in the face.
On 1/3, we had our "official" ultrasound with Dr. Huddleston. It was scheduled for that day because she was on rotation, and it would be nice to have our actual doctor for this milestone. This ultrasound machine was obviously older, so the image wasn't great, but everything looked fine from what she saw, including the heart rate. She pointed out something to the side of the gestational sac and said it could be a little fluid and the cause of the spotting, and not to worry about it, even though it may continue for a while. Understatement of the century! Two days later and once again in the bathroom at work, *TMI* I looked down to see the toilet completely full of dark red blood. This cannot be good. I started shaking and trying to keep it together as I called the RE's office, and of course, they saw me right away. Justin was at work in the South Bay, so again, I was on my own. Stephanie, a practioner that I grew particularly fond of in the IUI days because of our shared affinity for funky patterned socks and the fact that she takes the time to thoroughly go over everything with me, came into the room and asked me a series of questions. She looked concerned. But, upon further inspection, the ultrasound showed the baby was happier than ever in there and the heart rate was up to 125, and it measured perfectly at 7 weeks and 2 days! I was so relieved, I could have passed out. She looked closely around the gestational sac and saw very clearly that there was a dark area adjacent it and diagnosed it as a subchorionic hemorrhage. It was small and located on the opposite end of the sac from the baby, and the side closest to the cervix. This meant that any bleeding as it resolves itself can just escape the uterus without disturbing the pregnancy at all. The prognosis is good, but until it goes away (hopefully by early second trimester), I can experience a scary moment like this again, or just on and off spotting. Unless it doesn't taper off in a few hours or is accompanied by major cramping, I should not worry (easier said than done). I have had continued spotting, though not every day, but it seems to have reverted back to the brownish color. We go back tomorrow morning for our final visit before "graduating" and moving on to the OB on February 6th. I'm hoping that everything is still on the up-and-up, at which point, I will allow myself to be officially excited.
The Weird: Ok. I know that we have worked VERY hard to get me pregnant. The money, the anxiety, the tears, you name it. But now that I actually AM, it's very strange. I mean seriously, there is something growing inside of me that does not yet resemble a human being. How is that not bizarre? My body is changing and my clothes are not going to fit soon. Pants are already a challenge. I cried during the National Anthem at a basketball game (WTF). I seem a little foreign to myself. Like I'm watching this happen, but it isn't really me. Well, the food aversions and crazy dreams and massive boobage (hello!) are all undeniable, but I guess it still seems surreal. And I don't really want to talk about having this baby until I can fully accept it myself. Even then, I dread the conversations where people ask me a million questions or "oo and ahh" or heaven forbid touch my stomach uninvited (Side note: I've decided that when people do this, I am going to touch their stomach right back. I mean, if they think we're cool enough to be that friendly with each other, then I should be able to do it too, right? I'll be sure to let you know how this goes when the time comes). Does everyone go through this? I think maybe to some degree.
I have never fancied myself as the "motherly" type. In fact, as a teenager, I insisted that I was going to to be a powerful New York City attorney and never have children. I didn't have the patience to babysit, and felt like kids in general were just not particularly fond of me. I did work full time in a day care for a few months after college, and enjoyed the experience, but let's just say that I'm not a "natural" the way some women feel they are. But that was the old me and maybe it's time to give myself more credit. At some point, I will settle into this new stage of life. I can already feel the contentment creeping in (though I am still afraid to accept it in case something goes wrong - infertility really messes with your head) and believe without a doubt that Justin and I are going to rock the whole parenthood thing. :)
I am praying to Jesus and Shiva and Buddha and Allah and L. Ron Hubbard and all those other deities that everything goes well tomorrow. Maybe then I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And heeeeerrre's baby!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Super-wrong drama llama!
I can't possibly find words to sufficiently describe the intensity of the past week, but I will try...
In my last post, I was going through the awful roller coaster of emotions between wanting to feel hopeful while fighting the sense of dread that this cycle was a bust... spurred largely by some serious cramping on and off, with the worst of it being on Monday, 12/12. By that afternoon, I thought I might lose my marbles entirely, so after deliberating with Justin, I emailed Susan (our RE nurse at UCSF) to let her know that we would be testing at home the next morning since I was sure it would be negative and I wanted to get it over with. She requested that I get blood work done instead of using a home test, because the beta numbers are more telling, so we made an appointment at the lab for Wednesday.
The morning started out rocky because Justin had apparently forgotten where the lab was (weird, since he drove me there twice before) and I was nervous and therefore moody. But, we made it, joked around a little with each other to ease the tension, and in a few minutes, it was done. How exactly I was supposed to be productive for the next several hours at work is anyone's guess (I wasn't.) I watched and watched my phone to see if the call had come in with the results. And at around 2:30, I saw that she had called and left a voicemail. Thus beginning 4 hours of torture until Justin could meet me at home to listen to it together.
Finally, the moment had arrived, and I was feeling so pessimistic (probably a self-preservation technique), but secretly hoping for the best. As soon as I heard her voice over the speakerphone, I thought she sounded happy, but then immediately scolded myself for thinking so. However, much to my surprise, she said the magic words, "your test came back positive!" Our beta was 66 and she wanted it to be at least 50, so she was cautiously optimistic. We cried, we laughed, we high-fived.
Exhale.
Now the fun begins... We made the obligatory phone calls to family, which was a little strange since I barely believed the news myself. I had a second beta drawn and it more than tripled to 218 in 48 hours, and our first ultrasound is already scheduled for January 3rd. Don't I feel silly for being so sure that the worst was going to happen! Susan has a nickname for me: "Oh ye of little faith."
Like clockwork, my brain has kicked in and I've been worrying about all of the logistics and the what-ifs. It makes it tough to sleep at night when the thoughts are coming a mile a minute starting the second my head hits the pillow, but I am training myself to continue to take this one day at a time, just like the IVF process itself. Today, I am SO happy. I will try to stay focused on that and taking extra-special care of myself, since that is what is important in the here and now.
So, what do you think: one or two? ;)
In my last post, I was going through the awful roller coaster of emotions between wanting to feel hopeful while fighting the sense of dread that this cycle was a bust... spurred largely by some serious cramping on and off, with the worst of it being on Monday, 12/12. By that afternoon, I thought I might lose my marbles entirely, so after deliberating with Justin, I emailed Susan (our RE nurse at UCSF) to let her know that we would be testing at home the next morning since I was sure it would be negative and I wanted to get it over with. She requested that I get blood work done instead of using a home test, because the beta numbers are more telling, so we made an appointment at the lab for Wednesday.
The morning started out rocky because Justin had apparently forgotten where the lab was (weird, since he drove me there twice before) and I was nervous and therefore moody. But, we made it, joked around a little with each other to ease the tension, and in a few minutes, it was done. How exactly I was supposed to be productive for the next several hours at work is anyone's guess (I wasn't.) I watched and watched my phone to see if the call had come in with the results. And at around 2:30, I saw that she had called and left a voicemail. Thus beginning 4 hours of torture until Justin could meet me at home to listen to it together.
Finally, the moment had arrived, and I was feeling so pessimistic (probably a self-preservation technique), but secretly hoping for the best. As soon as I heard her voice over the speakerphone, I thought she sounded happy, but then immediately scolded myself for thinking so. However, much to my surprise, she said the magic words, "your test came back positive!" Our beta was 66 and she wanted it to be at least 50, so she was cautiously optimistic. We cried, we laughed, we high-fived.
Exhale.
Now the fun begins... We made the obligatory phone calls to family, which was a little strange since I barely believed the news myself. I had a second beta drawn and it more than tripled to 218 in 48 hours, and our first ultrasound is already scheduled for January 3rd. Don't I feel silly for being so sure that the worst was going to happen! Susan has a nickname for me: "Oh ye of little faith."
Like clockwork, my brain has kicked in and I've been worrying about all of the logistics and the what-ifs. It makes it tough to sleep at night when the thoughts are coming a mile a minute starting the second my head hits the pillow, but I am training myself to continue to take this one day at a time, just like the IVF process itself. Today, I am SO happy. I will try to stay focused on that and taking extra-special care of myself, since that is what is important in the here and now.
So, what do you think: one or two? ;)
Friday, December 9, 2011
What a Difference a Day Makes
I seriously need to get OFF this rollercoaster! To recap:
Monday, I felt great. Really optimistic and hopeful that this had worked.
Tuesday, black cloud over my head, thinking the worst.
Wednesday and Thursday, back to the sunny side!
Today, blackest cloud ever.
I was very crampy overnight (more so then I had been, anyway) and it started to feel the same as the end of all my other cycles. I even cried when my acu asked me how I was feeling, because I had to be honest with her. Justin is worried too because he knows how this is affecting me and he would hate to have to go through this again. I know that the cramping could mean nothing or everything, and there's no way to know yet (and I sure as hell am not going to test at 7dp3dt and get ambiguous results) what the outcome will be, but I am exhausted. Maybe I just feel this way because the trigger has worn off? Who knows? I NEED to stop dwelling, but that's practically impossible!
I hope I'm just being totally ridiculous and feel like a million bucks again tomorrow. Ugh. Longest. 2ww. EVER!
Monday, I felt great. Really optimistic and hopeful that this had worked.
Tuesday, black cloud over my head, thinking the worst.
Wednesday and Thursday, back to the sunny side!
Today, blackest cloud ever.
I was very crampy overnight (more so then I had been, anyway) and it started to feel the same as the end of all my other cycles. I even cried when my acu asked me how I was feeling, because I had to be honest with her. Justin is worried too because he knows how this is affecting me and he would hate to have to go through this again. I know that the cramping could mean nothing or everything, and there's no way to know yet (and I sure as hell am not going to test at 7dp3dt and get ambiguous results) what the outcome will be, but I am exhausted. Maybe I just feel this way because the trigger has worn off? Who knows? I NEED to stop dwelling, but that's practically impossible!
I hope I'm just being totally ridiculous and feel like a million bucks again tomorrow. Ugh. Longest. 2ww. EVER!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
OJB Update (That's Operation Jellybean, for those who are keeping score)
Well, it has been a few days since my transfer, and the emotions are running high. On Monday, I was on cloud nine, thinking I just "knew" this had worked! Tuesday, notsomuch. Today, I am straddling the fence ... though if I'm being completely honest and dare to think this, I'm still leaning towards it working, yay!
All-in-all, the ET went very smoothly, and our luck has just been remarkable so far. When we arrived at UCSF Friday morning, I had already gone to acupunture (the first of two visits with her that day) and taken a 10mg valium, so I was feeling more than fine! I got into my sexy hospital gown yet again and slipped on my bold, stripey green socks for luck, and we waited nervously to get the show on the road. At last, a nurse says, "oh, the doctor wants to talk to you first. It's good news!" Um, ok. We like good stuff. Dr. Fujimoto (who I admittedly was not crazy about when I saw him once during the IUI days, I may have misjudged) brought us into the room with the embryologist and explained that ALL 14 of our embryos were of the highest grade, so we had a decision to make: take the best-looking 2 and transfer them that day as planned and see how many of the others make it to blastocyst stage for freezing, or grow them all out to blast and choose the best 1 or 2 on day 5 from the crop that survive. Once he explained that there is always a slim chance that they all arrest and we end up with nothing, we knew we would be transferring that day. The only thing we knew with certainty was that these two gorgeous 8 and 9-cell embies were ready and waiting, so we went for it. By day 5, 2 more were frozen and 4 more even made it to day 6!
I have moments where I second-guess not waiting to see which made it to blast and choosing from them, since they have a higher likelihood of implanting successfully. But then I remember that we didn't know for sure that we would have ANY that made it that far. The fact that we lost half of them remaining twelve might seem like a negative, but to me, that means the two they put back have a 50-50 chance each! No, that's not really how it works, but I'm going to let myself think that for now. :)
I have been crampy off and on, and staying hydrated seems to help - though if I have to pee any more often, I might just take up residence in the bathroom! Otherwise, my only discomfort is soreness from the progesterone injections. Justin is being such a trooper with those, by the way. I can't imagine having to stab someone I love with a 1 and 1/2 inch needle on a nightly basis, sometimes leading to bloodshed and/or bruising. I SWEAR, it really doesn't hurt though!
I still have a full week before I test. Justin and I decided that we'll take a HPT on Thursday morning 12/15 and use my scheduled beta bloodwork on Friday as confirmation of the results, and to monitor my HCG levels. My goal this week is to be more distracted by all of the Christmas stuff I've been slacking on instead of the outcome of my IVF cycle. Let's see how well that works!
And without further ado, here are our potential babies. When I handed Justin this photo, he immediately got weepy and said his paternal instincts kicked in and he just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to them. *tear*
All-in-all, the ET went very smoothly, and our luck has just been remarkable so far. When we arrived at UCSF Friday morning, I had already gone to acupunture (the first of two visits with her that day) and taken a 10mg valium, so I was feeling more than fine! I got into my sexy hospital gown yet again and slipped on my bold, stripey green socks for luck, and we waited nervously to get the show on the road. At last, a nurse says, "oh, the doctor wants to talk to you first. It's good news!" Um, ok. We like good stuff. Dr. Fujimoto (who I admittedly was not crazy about when I saw him once during the IUI days, I may have misjudged) brought us into the room with the embryologist and explained that ALL 14 of our embryos were of the highest grade, so we had a decision to make: take the best-looking 2 and transfer them that day as planned and see how many of the others make it to blastocyst stage for freezing, or grow them all out to blast and choose the best 1 or 2 on day 5 from the crop that survive. Once he explained that there is always a slim chance that they all arrest and we end up with nothing, we knew we would be transferring that day. The only thing we knew with certainty was that these two gorgeous 8 and 9-cell embies were ready and waiting, so we went for it. By day 5, 2 more were frozen and 4 more even made it to day 6!
I have moments where I second-guess not waiting to see which made it to blast and choosing from them, since they have a higher likelihood of implanting successfully. But then I remember that we didn't know for sure that we would have ANY that made it that far. The fact that we lost half of them remaining twelve might seem like a negative, but to me, that means the two they put back have a 50-50 chance each! No, that's not really how it works, but I'm going to let myself think that for now. :)
I have been crampy off and on, and staying hydrated seems to help - though if I have to pee any more often, I might just take up residence in the bathroom! Otherwise, my only discomfort is soreness from the progesterone injections. Justin is being such a trooper with those, by the way. I can't imagine having to stab someone I love with a 1 and 1/2 inch needle on a nightly basis, sometimes leading to bloodshed and/or bruising. I SWEAR, it really doesn't hurt though!
I still have a full week before I test. Justin and I decided that we'll take a HPT on Thursday morning 12/15 and use my scheduled beta bloodwork on Friday as confirmation of the results, and to monitor my HCG levels. My goal this week is to be more distracted by all of the Christmas stuff I've been slacking on instead of the outcome of my IVF cycle. Let's see how well that works!
And without further ado, here are our potential babies. When I handed Justin this photo, he immediately got weepy and said his paternal instincts kicked in and he just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to them. *tear*
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Operation Jellybean
Back in NYC, when Justin and I were first dating, our friends tried to come up with a nickname for us, since we were practically inseparable. First, we were The Kennedys, because apparently being in marketing and banking made us the power couple of the group (ok?)... but it was decided that was too tragic. A few suggestions were batted about that evening at Moe's (our beloved neighborhood bar, where we first met and spent many a night with our fascinating circle of friends), but one stuck. Just like Bennifer and Brangelina, our names would be smooshed together to create... Jelly. It was instantly ridiculous and fantastic. We would enter a room or one particular backyard BBQ to the resounding shouts of "Jelly!" Our friends are insane.
So, Operation Jellybean is well underway! After having 6 or 7 mature-looking follies on Sunday, plus 9 others that were in a much smaller "cohort", it was decided that we would trigger that night for retrieval on Tuesday! Given those numbers, I can only expect maybe 6 to be mature and go on to fertilize, and I'm totally comfortable with that result. Working on Monday was complete misery. Heck, WALKING was like a mild form of torture because my ovaries felt like two tennis balls in my gut. I was soooo looking forward to getting these eggs OUT. Of course, I couldn't sleep on Sunday or Monday because of the nerves and anticipation, but on Tuesday morning, I was ready to roll.
When we got to UCSF, we were greeted in the waiting room by Angela, the nurse who was so fond of us for being silly during her IVF injection training class while the rest of the class sat there stone-faced. It's amazing how comforting a familiar face can be! She started my IV (joy) and got me in a gown and before I knew it, I was being whisked away to the procedure room. A minute later, that warm and fuzzy drug haze descended upon me, and the last thing I remember saying was, "oh man, that feels greeeeaaaaat!" Next thing I know, I'm lying in a recovery bed and Angela is bringing Justin to see me. It was done! First words out of my mouth were, "how many did we get?" She told me to look at my hand, and on it was written the number 16 in purple sharpie (which still won't come off, by the way)! NO WAY! THAT'S FREAKIN' AWESOME! Mind you, we have to wait until the next day to find out how many are mature (remember, I'm expecting maybe 6), and then how many actually fertilize, but I was pleased. Around 3:30 the next day, as I convalesced on the couch, I got the call telling me that 14 of the 16 were mature and ALL 14 fertilized! Utter disbelief. Can we really be this lucky? Yes. Yes, we can.
And as I wait to have 2 of the best-looking embryos transferred back in tomorrow morning, a few words for our jellybeans a.k.a. potential children...
So, Operation Jellybean is well underway! After having 6 or 7 mature-looking follies on Sunday, plus 9 others that were in a much smaller "cohort", it was decided that we would trigger that night for retrieval on Tuesday! Given those numbers, I can only expect maybe 6 to be mature and go on to fertilize, and I'm totally comfortable with that result. Working on Monday was complete misery. Heck, WALKING was like a mild form of torture because my ovaries felt like two tennis balls in my gut. I was soooo looking forward to getting these eggs OUT. Of course, I couldn't sleep on Sunday or Monday because of the nerves and anticipation, but on Tuesday morning, I was ready to roll.
When we got to UCSF, we were greeted in the waiting room by Angela, the nurse who was so fond of us for being silly during her IVF injection training class while the rest of the class sat there stone-faced. It's amazing how comforting a familiar face can be! She started my IV (joy) and got me in a gown and before I knew it, I was being whisked away to the procedure room. A minute later, that warm and fuzzy drug haze descended upon me, and the last thing I remember saying was, "oh man, that feels greeeeaaaaat!" Next thing I know, I'm lying in a recovery bed and Angela is bringing Justin to see me. It was done! First words out of my mouth were, "how many did we get?" She told me to look at my hand, and on it was written the number 16 in purple sharpie (which still won't come off, by the way)! NO WAY! THAT'S FREAKIN' AWESOME! Mind you, we have to wait until the next day to find out how many are mature (remember, I'm expecting maybe 6), and then how many actually fertilize, but I was pleased. Around 3:30 the next day, as I convalesced on the couch, I got the call telling me that 14 of the 16 were mature and ALL 14 fertilized! Utter disbelief. Can we really be this lucky? Yes. Yes, we can.
And as I wait to have 2 of the best-looking embryos transferred back in tomorrow morning, a few words for our jellybeans a.k.a. potential children...
Dear embies,
I hope you're doing well in your petri dishes! Daddy and I love you already, if you can imagine that, and we really want to meet one or two of you in about nine months, and then another one of you in a couple of years. The rest of you will be donated to nice families who can't make embies of their own, so I want you all to be strong and multiply! I'll get to see two of you tomorrow and I am so excited! I hope you're excited too.
With much love,
Your Mommie-to-Be
xoxoxox
I hope you're doing well in your petri dishes! Daddy and I love you already, if you can imagine that, and we really want to meet one or two of you in about nine months, and then another one of you in a couple of years. The rest of you will be donated to nice families who can't make embies of their own, so I want you all to be strong and multiply! I'll get to see two of you tomorrow and I am so excited! I hope you're excited too.
With much love,
Your Mommie-to-Be
xoxoxox
Monday, November 28, 2011
Queasy Peasy
No, I’m not referring to the stomach bug that J caught just a day and a half before Thanksgiving (poor thing, he was miserable and couldn’t enjoy his dinner). I’m referring to the pit that has taken up residence in my stomach and its tenants: nerves, excitement, and my old friend, anxiety.
Last week was chock full of ultrasounds and blood work (Monday, Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday) to see how I am responding to the stims. Monday the nurse simply did a blood draw to check my E2, which was over 300 from being 20 on Thursday, so things were headed in the right direction. They lowered my meds to 5iu lupron, 150 follistim, and 2 vials of menopur to make sure I don’t respond too quickly and have one or two pull ahead and eat up all the meds. Tuesday I had a “date with the vag cam” during which we saw that I have 10 follicles between 6 and 11mm. The doctor told me to go enjoy my Thanksgiving and come back Saturday because it was still early, and meds were lowered again to only 1 vial of menopur (thank goodness, because that one kinda burns!)
Thanksgiving with Justin’s family was really, really lovely. Before dinner, when it was time to do injections, J and I excused ourselves to the bathroom with our refrigerated bag of goodies. Eva (our almost 6-year-old niece), in her usual inquisitive nature, asked a bunch of questions about where we were going, what we were doing, and why. Justin’s mom told her that we had to give me shots in the belly. Of course, when I came back out to the living room, she made it clear that she knew what I was up to and asked me why I needed the shots, to which I responded, “well, we’re trying to have a baby and we need medicine to make that happen.” I explained that the needles were small and didn’t really hurt and that it would hopefully all be worth it soon enough. If only adults were so forthright with their questions. J
At dinner (and at Eva’s request), we went around the table and listed what we were thankful for. Justin’s mom named several things dear to her like books and Rome (she recently came back from a solo trip to Europe), but cried when she mentioned how happy she was to have family with her. It breaks my heart because I know how sad she and the rest of the family are that we are planning to leave. I wish our life choices weren’t hurtful to the ones we love, and I don’t envy Justin having to feel the way I did when I left my sister back east. Pretty sure we’re done moving after this.
When it was my turn, I shared my thanks for modern medicine and the possibilities it offers, family that enjoys each other’s company so much, and the technology to communicate with my side from afar. After dinner, we watch the requisite Snoopy Thanksgiving special with the kids and Boris played the piano. I couldn’t have been more at peace and relaxed.
By Saturday, my E2 had climbed to 2750 and I had follies approaching 16mm, so it looked like we were getting close! Sure enough, Sunday’s ultrasound showed 6 mature follicles between 15 and 18mm and 9 others in a group of smaller ones that may or may not catch up. It was go time! I triggered last night with 5000 units of HCG and 450 of follistim and am scheduled for egg retrieval tomorrow morning at 9:30am!
Up until yesterday afternoon when I got the call with my lab results, I was purely excited. Now, I can hardly concentrate on anything else. I am queasy thinking about how much is at stake and worried about how many eggs we might get, if they’re mature or not, if they’ll fertilize and divide properly, and if they will ultimately give us a baby of our own. They tell you when you start an IVF cycle to just take one day at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. Do I even know how to do that? How to not overanalyze and stress every little detail? I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.
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