Wherein I Give Up My Soul In The Baby Quest

Okay, maybe that's a bit melodramatic.

I don't eat red meat or pork.  This is mainly because I don't like it.  A second bonus was that after having lost 50 pounds, not eating red meat helped keep me out of the drive through.  When I heard that red meat carried a higher risk of certain cancers that ran rampant in my family and that it was estrogenic, I felt even more buoyed in my my red meat and porkless life.  I'd asked doctors about it and they said it was a non-issue in the baby quest.

Then I started googling crap about building uterine lining and "eat red meat" kept popping up.  Made sense and I figured that it wouldn't really hurt anything short term.  I'm not a steak or chops fan, but I do miss burgers.

So I asked J to take me out for a burger and he was more than happy to oblige.  Surprisingly, I didn't get sick!  I'm not going to start eating this crap every day, and bacon is still out, but like I said... can't hurt anything in the short term.

So here it is folks, my first burger in 10 years.  Mushroom and swiss.  Not gunna lie, it was damned good.

I had to have the fries too!

Green Light

My estrogen and progesterone were good, so we are starting Medrol, baby asprin, and PIO tonight.  We're still on for a Thursday transfer.  I don't have to come in for any more monitoring.

Not sure how I feel about that.  I mean, I'm glad not to push it back or cancel, but is it really the smart thing to do?  I guess we're banking on the PIO helping to thicken things and maybe the baby asprin will help if there is a blood flow issue?  All the nurse said is that the PIO should help and that they considered my lining to be at "the low end of normal."  Everything I see says they want 7 mm at the minimum at this point, but whatevs.

And how bad is it that a big part of me could give a rats ass anymore?

%^$!

My lining has not grown.  It was 5.9 at my first ultrasound and it was 5.6 today (day 13).  Waiting for a call from the doc with my E2 results and what to do next.  I'm so over this I can't even stand it.

Let's Talk About CMV

Cytomegalovirus

Say that five times fast.

Pardon me while I get on a soap box for a moment.  If you're here from ICLW, please know that this isn't something I do often... or ever for that matter.  I'm just in a mood, I suppose.

We all know about taking our vitamins, staying away from the cat liter, and giving up sushi, but have you ever heard of CMV?  Congenital CMV is the most common congenital infection there is.  It affects more children than Spina Bifida, Downs Syndrome, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, or Pediatric HIV.  Really.  And you've probably never heard of it.

CMV is a virus.  That's it.  It's really common and runs rampant in day cares and preschool classes everywhere and on its own is not a big deal.  You probably had it and didn't even know it.  Once you've had it, your body creates antibodies for it and you're generally good to go on the CMV front.  The problems happen when you haven't had CMV and you end up getting it for the first time when you're pregnant.  You can pass it on to your unborn child.  Many children born with congenital CMV have no ill effects.  Some seem fine at birth and develop symptoms several years later.  Some are very ill from birth and have significant developmental delays.

Congenital CMV is one of the leading causes of deafness, hence, I deal with it every day.  Kids with Congenital CMV can shed the virus until kindergarten.  Since I'm around these kids, and snotty noses in general, when we started trying to conceive, I asked my doctor for a titer to see if I'd had CMV in the past.*  I wanted to know for peace of mind, although I was sure I must have had it seeing as though I've been with kids who are shedding the virus for the last 10 years or so.  Surprisingly, I came up negative.  Never had it.  No antibodies to protect any precious fetus that may decide to hang around at some point.**

The good thing is that preventative measures are things we should all be doing, pregnant or not.  Washing your hands a lot is the top of the list!  You don't have to run out and get screened for CMV or start interrogating every kid with a snotty nose you see.  The CMV Action Network lists the following:

• Wash your hands often with soap and water for 15-20 seconds, especially after changing diapers, feeding a young child, wiping a young child's nose or drool, and handling children's toys
• Do not share food, drinks, or eating utensils used by young children
• Do not put a child's pacifier in your mouth
• Do not share a toothbrush with a young child
• Avoid contact with saliva when kissing a child
• Clean toys, countertops, and other surfaces that come into contact with children's urine or saliva

I don't mean for this post to frighten anyone or make anyone uncomfortable, but I wanted to post about it because CMV is something that people just don't know about and should.  Knowledge is power and just by being vigilant about good hygiene, you can take steps to protect yourself and your munchkin.

For more information, visit www.stopcmv.org

*When I asked her to test me, she said, "You know, if you do get it, it's not that big of a deal."  I know quite a few parents who would disagree strongly with that.  Doctors are pretty ill informed when it comes to CMV.  

** My mother is also CMV negative and she is almost 60 (she only knows this because she's an avid blood donor and they give her blood to babies).  We suspect that we may have some genetic protection from CMV, but I'm not taking any chances!

Really, Dental Hygienist? REALLY?

There was a dental visit this week.  You'd think that sitting in the dentist's chair with dental tools all up in your grill would be a safe place to avoid baby talk, especially when the hygienist is a dude, but nooooo!  Not when you're one of the lucky infertile!

Minor back-story: My dentist's office is right next door to my actual office.  We are the only two offices still standing in our complex, hence, the staff there knows a little bit more about me than your average dental office might.  Plus, when they have a bunch of cancellations their receptionist comes over and offers up cleanings to fill their schedule.  I have very clean teeth.

DH (Dental Hygienist): Oof!  I bumped my head on the light.
Me:  Oh!  Be careful.
DH: Ah, it's okay.  My daughter bumped her head the other day.
Me: Oh no!  Is she okay?
DH:  Oh yeah, got a little knot, but it'll be fine.
Enter long story about child jumping on the bed and many pointless details about exactly what he said to her at each and every moment of the jumping on the bed fiasco and head bumping aftermath.  I won't bore you. Besides, my eyes glazed over and I'm pretty sure I don't remember any of it.
Me: I'm glad she's okay.
DH: Yeah.  So you guys have been married for a while now. When are you going to have some kids?

Aaaaaand SCENE!

Ambivalence In An Elevator

I loved this post from The Infertility Therapist on RE waiting rooms.  I was thinking about it earlier this week when I ran into an uncomfortable situation at my RE's office.

The elevator won't go all the way up to the RE's office until 7:30 am on the dot.  So I was waiting in the lobby the other morning for the clock to strike the magic hour.  A couple came in and also waited.  Then another couple and finally another woman.  We all waited.  And waited.  We sat there for almost 10 minutes and no one said a word.

Everyone had their noses in their phones, texting or playing Fruit Ninja.  I kept thinking about the post from Dr. Rouff.  I was making judgements, but sadly they were judgements that hurt myself more than anything.  I figured that there were 4 women there, and since we were all there at prime monitoring hour, we were likely all IVF patients.  If we were to go with 50/50 IVF odds, two of us would get pregnant and two wouldn't.  Since I perceived them all as prettier, slimmer, and more well put together than me, I figured I would be the one out of this group to miss out on the baby lottery.  Truly, truly ridiculous, but this was honestly what my subconscious was saying to me.

So I started thinking that I should reach out and be friendly.  What a great way to meet local people who are going though the same thing!  But what the hell do you say?  "What are you in for?" "How are your ovaries feeling this morning?"  "What CD are you on?"  Okay, okay, I probably could have gone with something like, "How stupid is this whole elevator thing?" but at the time I could only think about the fact that we were all going upstairs to simultaneously drop trou (in separate rooms, mind you).

Got any interesting waiting room stories to share?

Old Life, New Person

I am most certainly not the same person I was when this journey started.  I'm a little rougher around the edges and slower to smile.  Somehow I've managed to mix being less patient with people and being less likely to judge.  I've lost a little of the silly and gained a big dose of reality.  I'm learning that the life I once built for myself no longer fits the person I am.  J has been coming to the same realization for himself.

This week has been full of eye opening moments at work.  I've hit the wall.  Working with children means that at some point, you will end up working with parents who do not make the best choices for their kids.  Making decisions I don't necessarily agree with is one thing, making decisions that can hurt a child is another.  I'm reaching the point where I can't watch it happen anymore.  I can't help people who don't want to be helped.  I can give a professional opinion along with all of the facts, and then sit back and watch opportunity after opportunity pass a child by over the next several years.  At first I thought it came from a feeling of anger.  Anger at people who are busy popping out children without a second thought and mistreating them while J and I can't even make a child.  I told a coworker that I may consider a career change if the baby thing doesn't pan out.  As I was talking I realized that it isn't even about a baby anymore.  I'm just a completely different person and the old life doesn't fit the new me.*

I was talking about this with J and he said he's feeling the same way.  He's at work having a hard time dealing with people whining about things he feels aren't worth whining about.  Some of these things may have gotten a whine out of him a couple of years ago, but now he just wants to yell "GET OVER IT!"

So I guess we're both considering career shifts in the near future.  That's exciting and scary all at the same time.  The really scary thing is that J says, "Maybe if we don't have kids I'll start cultivating tomatoes for a living."  He figures that if there isn't a "family" to support, he can slack off.  My idea of a child-free career shift would mean making a crap ton of money so we can travel and spend money filling the giant childless hole that would be staring at us.

Hopefully we won't have to figure that out, but the changes infertility has brought to our personas is really starting to affect how we live our lives.  It's interesting to watch it unfold.

*I feel like someone wrote about this concept recently, but I can't find it in my reader for the life of me. Maybe I was dreaming it, but if I wasn't, chime in and holler "it was me, dummy!"

FET Blahs

Everyone says that FETs are a piece of cake.

"Everyone" is stupid.

I HATE taking estrogen.  It makes me depressed and headachey.  I suck at remembering to take pills three times a day.  I'm having a real time with watching what goes in my mouth too.  But thankfully, I have this community. I can wake up and see posts from my cycle buddies Ali and Shelley and remember the posts from Belle on "THE SAD".  You all help me know that what I'm feeling is not out of the ordinary and that it will pass.

It's been a long week.  I've been feeling very "I don't give a crap" about everything.  Getting out of bed is hard and functioning at work is even harder.  Although, being kind of "blah" about everything is helping me let go of some things at the office.  I've had the attitude where certain things that have been long term uphill battles are really beyond my control and not worth stressing about.  I'm trying to spin it.  It's working a little.

I also haven't done any of my photo's for EmHart's challenge over the last week and a half.  Just like everything else, I haven't really felt like it.  I sure do like looking at all y'all's photos, though!

J and I have had a lot of talks about Plan B (Or is is C or D?  I lose track of where we are.).  I'm the kind of person who needs to think now about what we would do if this cycle didn't work.  We had always agreed to 3 fresh cycles.  When we started this journey, we said 3 IUIs and 3 IVFs, not thinking we would ever get near those numbers.  There are times when I am really ready to be done now, but part of the reason we decided to switch docs when we did was so that we could have a new set of eyes setting us up for our final fresh cycle if need be.  I feel like if we didn't give that last cycle a chance with new clinic we would regret it.  We all know the importance of regret management.  So if this doesn't work, we'll do one more.  But then what if there are frosties...?  J would like to set a date to be done and I can't do that.  If we end up with frosties I feel like we need to give them a chance.  At the same time, I want my life and my body back.  I'm ready to bitch-slap it back into shape.

God I hate this game.

Tempting Fate

I'm down to my last few pads.  Just enough to get me through this "special time."  I'm not buying another pack.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT, UNIVERSE?

Let There Be Ice Cream!

It's our Date-iversary!

Let me 'splain.

I met J through a very popular online dating site.  I had been doing online dating for years and years and years and years.  Yeah - a lot of time, I'm ashamed to say.  I had pretty much given up on the whole thing.  My profile was still on the site, but I wasn't actively searching or anything thing.  One September day, I felt compelled to check my account.  There was an email from a guy who did not fit any of my snooty parameters (ie, he wasn't a tall white dude with at least a graduate degree).  It was an easy, casual email and I noticed his profile said he was from Chicago.  I always get along with fellow mid-westerners, so I figured what the heck.  He asked me out for coffee the following weekend... his first (and last) online date ever.

I met him at the designated meeting place (every online dater knows that you don't let them pick you up and you make the first date short, sweet, and in public!).  We quickly figured out that neither of us were actual coffee drinkers.  Thankfully, there was a Ben and Jerry's next to the Starbucks, so we got something we both really love... ICE CREAM!  I was charmed by his easy smile and relaxed demeanor.  We just talked and it was so easy.  I don't know how to explain it other than to say it just... was!  I know I should say there were unicorns farting rainbows and galloping around us, but that wasn't what happened.  It just felt warm.  Like I had known him forever and this was what was supposed to be.  On some level, I just knew this was it.  Like the billion years of prayers had been simply answered in this wonderful man in front of me.  In fact, on our wedding day, a friend played me a voicemail I had sent her a few days after this date saying that I had found my lobster.

Since that first cone of Chunky Monkey with J, not a day has gone by where I haven't heard his voice and I love it that way.

Today is the anniversary of our first date, and every year we celebrate it by heading back to the Ben and Jerry's and having us some ice cream.  We love this day.  We get to celebrate us and happiness.  It's all about the happy today.  Not the mushy, not the the trials and tribulations, just the happy.

And just for the record, he says I was late on our first date, but I saved the text message exchange five minutes before our scheduled meeting time that says I was parking, so he can bite me on that one.  AND he only lived in Chicago for the first five minutes or so of his life.  Online daters are liars.  I lied about my height. :)

Return of the Jedi: Baseline

Baseline went well.  I'm cleared to start meds on Saturday for our FET.  I met a new Wand today.  All Wands are alike.  Go figure.  The nurse who did the ultrasound really pointed out landmarks and stuff which was nice!  I knew what was my lining and could spot a giant ovary full of follies, but she showed me blood flow and stuff.  I've never had a thorough explanation before, and apparently I have been looking at the damned thing upside down.

They wanted to do a mock transfer, so I had that done today too.  Easy peasy.  BUT whenever I meet a new physician and they ask what I do for a living, a whole conversation ensues.  I'm an audiologist.  I work with cochlear implants and I only see children.  (There, I said it! At least this blog is not googleable.) The minute I answer the "what do you do" question, I see their eyes pop up from between my knees and the questions start.  Doctors have genuinely great questions about implants and I'm really very happy to talk about it.  I love my job and I love talking to others about how awesome implants are.  Here's the deal - I would much rather these conversations started when I was wearing pants!  At least this time she had the decency to let me sit up and put my legs together.

Foto Friday

 

I am participating in EmHart's September Photo Challenge! I figured I'd save up my pics and post them on Fridays.  Here's week one.

Beginning: Here's everyone's favorite beginning, birth control pills! Little bastards that they are. 

 

Beginning

Fire:  A couple of years ago, my now husband sent me the photo labeled "Fire-Exhibit A" while I was in the middle of a rehearsal. It showed up on my little Blackberry, that had a 3in screen, with the title "It's really bad here, babe." I was pretty sure our house was burning down. Three families lost their brand new homes that night. They have not rebuilt. My fire photo shows what's left of their houses today and the building of new homes still going on around the empty lot.    

Fire-Exhibit A

Fire - the real photo.

White: One of my favorite things about my dog is the white splotch on her snout. I think it's where the angels bitch slapped her on the way down.  Oh come on!  I love my dog, but she was most certainly not kissed by any angel!

White

School:  I have quite the collection of old textbooks.  do I reference them ever?  No!  They are too friggin old!  So on my shelf they sit.

School

Pure:  In all honesty, I took this a billion (Okay, maybe 8) years ago.  So not only is it a lovely photo of the purity of water, it's full of pure honesty about my cheating soul.


Pure

Book:  This is a page from my favorite book "To Kill A Mockingbird."  Interestingly, when I opened it up, it came to a page where Dill and Scout were arguing about where babies came from.  Dill thinks you can order one and then row a boat over to a foggy island to pick them up.  Scout says that God drops  them down the chimney.  Then Dill remembers that "You get babies from each other."  Although he also thinks that there is a man who "has all these babies just waitin' to wake up."  Me too, Dill.  I have all of these babies just waitin' to wake up.

Book

 Golden:  Yay white wine!  And that's all there is to say about that!


Golden








Calendar! Preparation For The Return Of The Jedi

Shiny and new!  Here we go!

We met with the nurse today to get our calendar for our FET and pay up.  Everyone we met with knew about the nuances of our cycle, had everything together and ready to go for us, it was so nice.   Other differences I'm excited about?
Estrace and no patches!  Yay!

• Baby Asprin.  I see the rest of you taking it, now I'm in the club.
• Medrol.  What's that you say?  You have a condition that some believe causes an auto-immune implantation problem and you've never added a steroid to the mix?  What a novel idea!
• HCG added to the transfer medium.  New clinic is really excited about this.  Apparently it's showing some pretty great results.

Only bad thing is that insurance requires day 3 bloodwork and I'm already on BCPs.  They have told me in the past that as long as it was completed in the last year, it's all good (until my 35th birthday).  Since they are dumb and don't actually hold on to records, this has to be sent in every freakin time.  So to avoid coming off BCPs and getting a new draw, I have to get the last day 3 lab results from the old clinic (they didn't come over with the last bunch of records).  Thankfully, I knew the exact date they were drawn on, so I called and said I'd be picking them up tomorrow morning.  No relying on them to fax that crap in.  I'll do it myself, thankyouverymuch.

So, hopefully something will survive the thaw and a couple days of extra culturing for a blastocyst transfer on October 4th.  Beta is scheduled for the 15th.

Go ute, go!

A Milestone Menage A Trois

This is my 200th post.  Within the next two weeks, we'll come upon the anniversary of my first visit to the RE and my first blog post.  Instead of depressing myself and all of you with three depressing posts in rapid succession, I'll try to make this one big post about what the last year and 200 posts has brought.  Or is that brung?  Is brung a word?  I'm pretty sure it isn't.

To go back and look at the posts from last September is like revisiting a diary for me.  There were so many things going though my head back then.  On one hand, I was hoping to tempt fate by starting an infertility blog.  A sad, smug, voice in my head thought that if I went so far as to start a blog, our first round of treatment would work and then  boy would I look silly!  On the other hand, the opposing little voice was afraid that this would be a long road.  But even that voice was intending for this space to be a place where I could record the journey and offer hope to others when they saw a shiny happy Hapa family at the end.

Instead, a year later, I have an unexpected life.  While I wouldn't wish this road on anyone, I feel like infertility had tried to test my fledgling marriage and we've been able to give it the middle finger.  I've learned that this man I married is 100% my partner and best friend.  The "for worse" part?  We can handle it.  It's a good thing to know this early in the game.  I've learned lessons that I didn't know I needed to learn.  Lessons about empathy, judgement, and identity.  I've learned that my body sucks, but my soul is more resilient than I knew it could be.  I've met new friends who I may never actually meet.  A whole community of amazing women who have kept me sane and become my strongholds.

Back then, the thought of not having children would pierce me like nothing else.  Even the thought of it would send me into racked sobs.  Now, a year later, I have a Child-free/less folder in my reader and I so look forward to unread posts showing up in that space.  Now the thought of not having children seems like an alternative rather than a painful sentence.  Somedays it actually feels like a welcome alternative.

So here were are, three IUIs, two IVFs, and a two-for-one surgery later and not a double pink line to show for it.  It's been a rough year, an emotional year, but an important year.  I can't say that I've reached a point where I'm glad to be experiencing infertility, but I am grateful for what I am learning.

The Great Embryo Caper

Sorry I haven't been writing.  In all honesty, I haven't felt like it.  It's been a struggle not to give in to the sad lately.  There have been lots of wonderful BFPs around lately and it's been harder to watch this time.  I feel like I've been shifted into "veteran" status and it sucks.

But on to the embryo move, AKA "I hope I don't pop out a white baby."

It actually happened Tuesday.  The new clinic was short staffed Friday because of the holiday weekend and they asked us if we could move it up.  So first we went to the new clinic to pick up the shipper.  It looked like R2D2.  Fitting since we had named the embryos from this cycle "the Jedi."  We paid our modest fee for use of the equipment and the liquid nitrogen and were on our way.

Look at those calves on my husband!

We got to the old clinic and the embryologist took us back to a consult room.  We filled out the forms releasing the embies to us.  I guess I should have started to be concerned when he asked us, "How many of your embryos do we have?  I don't have your chart with me."  Umm, 7 dude.  Get with the program at some point, would ya?

He took copies of our drivers licenses, which sounded really secure and official, and had us wait in the waiting room.  He took the shipper off with him and said he'd bring it back out to us.

We waited for about 15 minutes and out he came.  He handed us the shipper and copies of the release we signed.  That was it.  No instructions.  It was a bitter sweet goodbye since I always imagined that I would leave that clinic pregnant with lots of thank yous to hand out.  Instead, I just couldn't wait to get the heck out of there.

We put the shipper in the car and belted it in.  I sat in the backseat with them. I probably didn't need to, but I was really anxious.  Don't judge.

They don't make car seats for embryos.

It was an uneventful ride to the new clinic.  I asked J to turn the Disney Channel on for them, but he wouldn't.  We hauled it upstairs and the embryologist came right out.  She asked us to come back with her to watch her get us checked in.  Cool!  She opened R2D2 and took out a canister that looked like the toner cartridge from a copy machine.  Then she asked The Question.  "Did they give you any paperwork?"

All we had was the copy of the release.  There was no paperwork in with our embies.  Nothing to say what was in there, who they belonged to, what the quality was, or that they were frozen on day 3. Again, NOTHING TO SAY WHO THEY BELONGED TO!  The embryologist asked us to hang out in the waiting room while she sorted it all out.

Now, we didn't open anything the whole time, obviously.  I knew that the R2D2 thing just held the stuff that held the real goods, but I still wasn't opening anything.  I did know there were supposed to be papers accompanying the embies, but you'd think that a reputable clinic that is supposedly among the top in the country would at least have the sense to include information identifying EMBRYOS and their "parents" before putting them in someone's sedan.

Embies get settles in their new home.

The embryologist came back out and told us that she'd had to take the straws out briefly to see if there was anything on them connecting them to us.  There was a date on it, but that didn't relate to anything in our cycle.  At all.  She said there was a series of numbers and letters that may be a medical record number of some sort.  Thankfully, I had my med rec number memorized (you know, since I had to give it every time I called the old clinic and leave a message rather than speak to a human) and it matched!  So hopefully, that's all the confirmation we need to confirm that these are our little hapa embies.

If I never see anyone from the old clinic again it will be too effing soon.