The CMV Part of the Equation

Several months ago I wrote a post about Cytomegalovirus(CMV).  Long story short, it’s a minor virus, but if you contract it for the first time during pregnancy, if can have anywhere from zero to severe implications for your child.  Before we started trying for a baby, I tested negative, meaning I’d never had it.  It was important to me to get tested because I work with children who have congenital CMV every day and many of them are still actively shedding the virus.  I was tested because I thought I’d test positive and then there would be nothing to worry about.  Turns out, I was CMV negative.

As soon as I got my beta results, I asked my RE about it.  He wanted to test me again since it had been a couple of years.  Hopefully just the right kid had sneezed on me and I could go about my merry way.  Sadly, I’m still negative.  I have to stop seeing all of my congenital CMV little ones.

What’s scary is that we don’t always know which kids have the virus when we first see them.  We test their blood spot cards from birth and it often takes about 6 months to get those results.  Plus we know that it’s likely that the congenital CMV kids are shedding the virus, but any kid could walk it with it at any time.  So really, avoiding the kids we know about is just a band-aid on a gaping wound, but it’s better than nothing.

So it means my boss and all of my immediate coworkers know because they have to pick up the slack.  I’m fine with that.  After all, they’ve been there through every transfer and every beta.  What I’m not fine with is the message it’s sending to the families I work with.

Of course we aren't going to come out and say, "Lisa can no longer see your child because of the possibility of contracting CMV," but they’re going to figure it out.  I see these kids several times a year, and all the sudden they’re going to be seeing another clinician for no apparent reason.  They’ll see a growing belly on me in the hallway and it will sink in.  I feel like I’m sending a message that says, “You could’ve avoided your child’s deafness.”  Not only do I not believe that, I don’t want to make anyone feel that way.

It’s just yucky.  Unavoidable, but yucky.

A Hot Mess

February 28th is entirely too far away.

I really wish I had some morning sickness or something to hang my hat on.  My boobs are a little sore and I'm kind of tired.  That's it.

I know I should just be "enjoying every moment," but after 3 failed IUIs and 3 failed transfers I'm having a hard time believing that everything is going just hunky dory in my ute.

I know that there is nothing I can do to avoid the worst case scenario, but I'm not a patient person.

I had a dream last night that we went in for our ultrasound, there was no heartbeat, and our RE just handed us a calendar for a fresh cycle like it was no big deal.  We told him we weren't going to do another cycle and he just kept saying, "But we know we can get you pregnant now.  You just have to keep trying."  J and I kept saying, "We're done trying!  We told you that!" He kept shoving the paper in my face and wouldn't let me cry.

This morning I started crying to J that if God let us get this far only to miscarry on our last attempt, I would never forgive Him.  Then I started crying even harder because I was sure that thinking those thoughts would mean that I would for sure miscarry as punishment.

I found a stash of internet cheapies and I used one today just to make sure the line wasn't light.  I'm pretty sure I would get no info from an HPT at this point, but I did it anyway.  It was as dark as the control line, but I'm still not feeling reassured.

I know, I know.  First world problems, worlds smallest violin, and all that jazz.

Whine, moan, cry, repeat

We Have Doublage!

342!!!!

Thanks and Recap

The Chipmunks

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the prayers and well wishes. I honestly believe that we would not have gotten this far without all of your good vibes out there in the universe. Keep ‘em comin! This beta crap makes me a hot mess.

So since I’ve been MIA, I thought I should update you on how retrieval and transfer went, especially since it was not as expected!

Just to recap, I was doing a three month treatment of Lupron Depot that started in November. Midway through January, I started stimming. So I didn’t use any antagon or additional Lupron, we just let the Depot shot do it’s long acting thing to keep me suppressed. I have not had a period since early November (that’s gunna be fun to explain to an OB… if we get that far).

Things were going great as usual for the stim portion of the IVF entertainment. In fact, I thought things were going better than usual. My estradiol was rising smoothly and we didn’t even have to make changes to my meds. My follies were growing nicely and at a similar rate. I’m not sure how many I had on trigger day, but I know it was enough that they only measured the larger ones. All was well. I was very hopeful.

On the morning of retrieval, I was pretty anxious. I remember portions of my other retrievals. I remember the pain, I remember begging for more meds, I remember being really cold. I was not looking forward to going through that again. Man, this nurse anesthetist was my best friggin’ friend. It was an entirely different cocktail (Yay Propofol!) and I don’t remember a damn thing. I was quite entertaining afterwards too. I’d like to think that I helped calm the nerves of the poor girl set to go after me, but I’m not entirely sure I’m right in that assumption. J I kept loudly proclaiming that the nurse anesthetist was my hero. He was though, seriously.

It took forever for them to come back with an egg count. One of the other docs in the practice even came down to wait for it because he was sure it was going to “at least be in the teens.” He looked disappointed when the lab finally came back with 12. I was totally cool with 12. It’s not like 26 got me anywhere! Quality over quantity! Yay for 12!

I was honestly not that worried about the fertilization report. Since we’ve added ICSI to the mix, things have been better. Not the upwards of 70% it should be, but way better than the 19% we got without it. Most of my eggs are always mature… I was figuring we’d end up with 6 embies and that sounded like a great number. So when she said we only had 3, I was taken aback. Only 6 were mature and only 3 fertilized… with ICSI. As usual, there was no reason why. It just was. We were scheduled for a 3 day transfer and I was petrified that we wouldn’ t have anything to transfer. I was having flashbacks to our first cycle.

But we did have something to transfer! In fact, all three stuck around. We went ahead and transferred all three. A 6 cell, a 7 cell, and an 8 cell. They looked pretty darned good. J dubbed them Alvin, Simon, and Theodore. Transfer went smoothly and my RE was hopeful that one or two of our chipmunks would decide to stick around.

The bloat came back with force on Saturday. Even J said, “I’m afraid you’re going to take this the wrong way, but you look much bigger than you ever have.” Sweet, honey. Thanks. I started having some sharp pains when sneezing or rolling over in bed. I let the little thought creep in that maybe, just maybe, our last round finally worked.

I caved and POAS on Monday. It was positive. It wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t a squinter either. I dragged J out of bed (I swear he thought there was a fire or something) and we proceeded to fall into complete hysterics. I tested again the morning of my beta to make sure it was darker and it was. Beta #1 was 162 and beta #2 is tomorrow.

I’m feeling so many crazy things right now that I can’t even put them into words. Happiness, shock, anxiety, fear, gratefulness, guilt… That about covers it.

Again, I can’t thank y’all enough for your awesomeness. I hate being in this club, but thank God for the wonderful women in it.

And Aly – I hope your screen recovered.

Speechless

162.  My Beta is 162.

I don't even know what to say.