Well Damn, That Sucks

I just realized something.

Dr. BM has requested that rather than have the clinic here run my blood in their lab, that he wants it shipped to him to run in his lab.

Fine.

Except, that means that the Beta on the 6th? Yeah, no results until the 7th.

Oh, and I've sworn off pee sticks.

Dammit.

Three

First, thanks for making me feel less lame about the freeze/re-freeze thing. Phew.

Now...

Just back from Vegas. We ended up waiting to transfer on Saturday. So, we blew a day with some friends and got to enjoy the wonderful Vegas eateries for an extra day/night.

Well, by the time we flew out on Thursday there were 5 embryos still growing. By Friday there were four. By Saturday there were 2 grade 1 blasts and 2 that was still compacting/cavitating (stage before blast). Saturday we decided to transfer three. We transferred the two blasts and the better of the two that were a little behind.

Pretty unusual for this clinic to transfer three. I could tell Dr. BM was doing it for me and because I pressed him. Last time we had the same issue, we were left with one that we froze and it ended up being a big waste of time. At least he caved and transferred all three.

So, that's it. Now we wait. That wonderful time when the loads of progesterone and estrogen that I am swallowing/injecting/inserting/wearing start to make me have symptoms that mimic pregnancy symptoms, but are likely just the result of all the drugs.

So, I rested Saturday and Sunday. We have wonderful friends who let me crash on their sofa while they brought me everything. We had filet on Saturday and S even cut my meat. That's love right there...

First Beta is February 6.

God help me.

Eight

I guess I had the process wrong. I thought they would thaw our embryos two at a time until we had two viable ones.

Turns out they thawed all eight.

All eight survived. We'll get as many as we can to blasts and transfer two and freeze whatever might be left.

For some reason I thought they were like frozen meat. Once it's been thawed, you can't freeze it again. I guess that was retarded of me (yeah, I am serious. I'm a tard. I can't believe that made sense to me.)

So eight. Eight alive so far. Blood levels were good today. My ass is already sore from the progesterone injections.

Next update, tomorrow.

Seven

As we drive by the old church with the old cemetary, the one with the fading and falling headstones, I have to stop. I'm drawn to it. Drawn to the cold and loneliness of this place. There is no one around but me. I stare at the rows and rows of stones. Big ones, tall ones, some that are ornate, some that are small and very simple. All are very sad. So alone.

I get out of the car and begin reading them. Fathers, mothers, soldiers, sisters and sons. Families together. Some of them children. The very old, the very young. All there. All that is left of them in a few words carved on those stones.

I look past the big iron gate and see a row of small stones. All with one word across the top. Stillborn. The word burns as I read it seven times. Oh my God. Seven. I scan each one looking for the names. Each one says daughter/son to John and Sarah. Seven stillborn babies in seven consecutive years. The first in 1896 and the last in 1902.

I think of my own hurt. My own pain and the pain of the others I know. I stare in awe and wonder aloud, how did they survive that? How did they keep on having babies? Why?

I weep. So much pain. I feel the hurt. The utter anguish and loss. I shudder and sob at the thought of what she must have felt delivering a stillborn year after year. What would people have said about them in those days? Would there have been gossip? People would certainly have thought they had done something to deserve all of the loss and pain. Did they wonder, like me; why? What have I done to deserve this?

I look to the next row and see John and Sarah. John and Sarah who hurt year after year for the loss of their baby. The loss of hope. The loss of their very souls. John and Sarah who are for all eternity with their sweet babies. Finally there to protect and care for them. To hold them and watch them sleep and play.

I notice Sarah died in 1903. No baby in 1903, so I have to assume there was no death during childbirth. Did she die of a broken heart?

I surely would have.

Good

Dr. BM has proclaimed that all is well and we are ready to proceed. What little fluid is left should absorb as soon as the progesterone injections start on Sunday (goodtimes). So, we continue as planned. Embryos thow on Monday. Two for now and if they make it then we stop, if one dies then we thaw 2 more.

We leave Thursday for Vegas.

This may really happen. OMG.

No Idea

Things looked okay yesterday. Lining was mediocre, but the fluid is significantly less. Clinic here had to FedEx pics to Dr. BM. He'll get them today, so he's reserved judgement until he sees them.

More later.

Second Verse, Same as the First

I have another u/s and blood-letting today.

I did get a call back from Dr. BM on Monday after the pictures had been FedExed to him. Seems he may have jumped the gun in telling me not to worry that the fluid would likely resolve itself. He said that there was a significant amount of fluid there, more than he thought, and that we will make a decision after today's appointment whether we go forward or cancel this cycle.

I'm trying not to be pissed until I see the screen today.

I asked him why, what is causing the fluid. He gave me a bunch of crappy answers, none that really answered my question about why it's happened twice, or more. He gave me the same crap about how it happened from time to time, but I want to know what can cause it again and again.

I'll update after the appointment today.

Enter Profanity

Well, my transfer's probably about to get cancelled. Ultrasound today showed fluid collection in my uterus. Again. It did this last cycle and was part of the reason we just did the retrieval and didn't transfer. Then, it was okay, worked out because of the move. This time? Not so much.

WTF? Why can't my body just freaking cooperate already?

Dr. M the PA doctor, we'll call him Dr. Patronizing, was really weird about the whole thing. I was asking questions because, well, I've done this before. He basically answered none of them except to say something along the lines of he'd relay the info to Dr. BM and wait to be told what was next. I know he's just the guy who's supposed to be watching things from here. I know he's not "my doctor", but c'mon. Help a girl out.

He finally did say they may be able to aspirate it, and he'd relay that to Dr. BM and see what he said. Boy, that sure does sound fun.

So, okay, we may or may not have to cancel the transfer, but it also begs the question...WTF? WHY? What NOW? Why is my body suddenly so screwed up?

AND...why do doctors take forever to call back when they know you are waiting on them to call?

**Update**

Dr. BM called and said there is no reason for panic...yet. He said fluid can resolve on its own when the progesterone starts. He changed my protocol a bit and added the estrogen patches and is having me insert estrogen tabs vaginally instead of taking them orally.

Fun.

He didn't seem too keen on what the doc here had to say and said that he needed to see the ultrasound pics himself in order to say whether or not what I was told was even accuarate.

Great.

So much for tranferring any remaining embryos to this clinic...

Anguish

Tonight Gracie had her first PA dance class. She's been dying to go. It's the one thing about Vegas that she's clearly missed. She's been coming out of her skin with excitement for a week.

We were about 10 minutes early. As we sat in the waiting area, other girls started trickling in. One girl (Gracie's age) came in with her baby sister in tow (Audrey's age). Gracie watched quietly as they played and talked. Then, as she sat curled in my lap, she looked up at me sadly and broke my heart.

She simply said..."Mommy, I miss my sister."

It's one thing for me to be sad. For me to miss Audrey. But Gracie misses her too. She's only just now old enough to begin to understand what she's missing. Today, it was very clear she gets it. She gets it and it's a punch in the gut for me to see her as sad as I am when I look at little sisters playing with their big sisters.

Sigh.

SNOW!

Well, after lamenting that our first winter here is one of the warmest on record, we have snow today! Gracie and the dogs are loving it. Thre's not much and it's not likely to stick since it's supposed to be warmer again tomorrow...

Good Times

I've heard it said that the best place for an infertile to go and stare in awe (or get pissed) at all the pregnant women, is Target. It seems to be a bit of an inside joke in this little community. Staring at all the pregnant women, and counting them, in your local Target store. Been there.

Today, I found myself in a place that far surpassed any Target I've ever been in.

The local Social Security office.

It seems that to get a driver's license and then get our cars registered, we have to have our Social Security cards. This is a new thing since I've had driver's licenses in 4 other states and have never been asked to provide my social security card. (The only logic I find for that is that the car registration fees here are crazy low. Like $35 for any car, no matter the value. Coming from the west, that is amazing.)

So yeah, we had to provide Social Security cards and along with our phone, we have yet to find the box that had the box where our Social Security cards were carefully hidden. By my husband. Because, maybe it was bad, but I used to carry mine. Until I met him. And now, my card is lost in our black-hole-of-a-basement. With his.

As we walked into the office, I knew I may be faced with a scene I didn't want to deal with. I'm a bit of a snob, I admit it. This place is not in the greatest area of town, I think because most of its clients are on that side of town. It smelled vaguely of old urine and clothes that hadn't been washed in weeks. This is a slice of our society, I suppose.

Aside from the half drunk guys looking for benefits because of various diabilities, there were also mothers and babies and pregnancies. Everywhere. This included the one woman who had 7 children ranging in age from about 14 to no more than one week old. This same woman who breastfed the kid with no blanket to cover her or shield her kid from whatever nastiness and germs were lurking in that place. She fed him and then used her dirty breast pad to wipe his face....then shoved it back in her bra. Also the woman who had 2 other restless toddlers in a stroller who were having an absolute fit about not getting any of the gummybears their mother had in possibly the dirtiest diaper bag I have ever seen.

She finally took notice that her brood was causing some feathers to ruffle and took the younger ones outside. Where in less than 10 minutes, the fire alarm went off. That was presumably pulled by one of her brats. Now, I know they were the only ones in the hallway because I let them out the door and could see them through the window. And, I know that the alarm was pulled on our floor because as we walked out the emergency exit, I saw the open and pulled alarm box. Further, she and her kids were standing near said pulled alarm with looks of utter shock on their faces. As if something they had done had caused the chaos. Which, of course, they had.

Two words lady: Birth Control.

Suffice it to say that I did not get my replacement card ordered today. I'm going to try going back in the morning.

Shit.

Oh, had my baseline today. All is well.

Ha Ha

My aunt has a (bad) habit of buying Gracie obnoxiously loud presents. This year's lovely is a pink Barb*ie keyboard. Yes, bad enough that we are forced to listen to a 3/4 year old banging madly on a keyboard, but it also has another feature. A sort of karaoke feature. It plays four song and has a microphone so she can sing along. And she does...LOUDLY.

No big, right?

Wrong.

One of the songs is a freaking Britney Spears song. "I'm not that innocent...". So, I call my aunt and tell her, yeah, thanks a lot. That slut was never to be allowed in my house and now you've brought her here.

She laughed. A lot.

But, it gets better...

Remember the "sings LOUDLY" part I mentioned? Well, Gracie doesn't really know all the words. She gets the really easy ones, but mostly you hear a lot of "nah. nuh. uh..." where the lyrics should be.

Here's the funny part.

Today I really listened to what should have been "I'm not that innocent..."

What she said was "I'm not that impotent..."

I'm still dying. Oh, my aunt is gay. Why does that make it funnier to me?

Dilemma

First, Happy New Year!

Now... the hard stuff.

Our transfer date is January 26. Gracie's birthday is the 27th. I'll be stuck on my back. I already knew there wouldn't be a party this year. No, friends here yet. But, now we'll be in Vegas. But, I still won't get to do anything. Not only that, but we'll be staying with friends and I always get stressed about chasing after Gracie because their house is perfect and I'm afraid she'll break something.

Daddy's going to take her to Chuch E. Sneeze the weekend before we go. Would it be bad of me to trick her into thinking her birthday is then too? I mean, then I could be involved...she won't know the difference...

Here's where it gets worse...

We're having a hard time finding someone to take care of the dogs. Can't leave them outside and they have to be let out during the day. I abhor kennels. My mom is comeing the weke before. Would it be bad of me to ask her to stay with the dogs? Worse, would it be bad of me to ask her to stay with Gracie? Then I wouldn't even be in the same state for her birthday.

Am I a terrible mother? Help.