Confession

I am a scanwhore. I will score an ultrasound wherever and whenever I can.

I kept this way on the down low, but I got an sonogram on Monday afternoon. I was so excited by the 4,000+ beta that I was DYING to know if it was twins or not. This is one of the benefits of working at a hospital -- you can cruise on over to the Center for Advanced Fetal Care and get a scan. Nice.

Seeing as how I was only 5w1d at the time, I really only expected to see a sac (or sacs) with maybe a yolk sac or something.

We saw a sac -- just one. But it was blindingly empty. And the sac only measured 4w5d.

I tried not to freak out since it was still so early, but Dr. Google didn't help much in my efforts to keep my sanity. I slowly went insane over the next couple of days, cursing myself for getting that stupid scan in the first place. If I did a search on "blighted ovum" one more time, I was going to go cross-eyed.

Finally, yesterday, I emailed my nurse and confessed my clandestine scan and my subsequent freak out. She and the RE both decided that while it wasn't a BIG deal, they were concerned -- mostly because of my past history of killing off every embryo that dares enter the Ute of Death.

The RE told me to come in on Monday because he'd be there and wanted to be present for the scan. That sounded like a great plan to me. Except that I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Mostly, I spent it crying. It wasn't much fun. In addition to the raging hormones coursing through my body, I've also got a head full of tragic scenarios.

To make a long story short, I emailed my nurse this morning and said I was on the verge of a breakdown. They let me come in this morning, even though my RE wasn't in the office.

The news isn't great. I am so bummed.

The sac is at least measuring a little better -- I am 5w5d and the gestational sac measured 6w. There was finally a yolk sac but it's very small and there was no sign of anything else. No fetal pole, no embryo, nothing. At 5w5d they should definitely see a fetal pole and are usually able to see an embryo, often with a heartbeat already.

Fuck me. I go back for my regularly scheduled sonogram on Wednesday to see what's going on. The phrase I think they used was "low probability of viability." I got the speech about how they've seen crazier things happen, and that every baby grows at a different speed, but it was clear that we all expect this to end badly.

Perhaps because I cried so much last night, I haven't cried once today. I think I've already moved past it. I was a damn idiot for thinking it would actually work out for us this time anyway.

I can't thank Erin and Rho enough who have helped me through this week. Erin has had the (mis)fortune of knowing every, single little nitty gritty detail as it unfolded. She's a kick ass support system and I would definitely be checked into the looney bin by now if not for her.

Of course now I need to figure out how to do my job without speaking to (or laying eyes on) either my boss or my closest co-worker for the next 8 months...

The Soul-Sucking Pit of Hell

The good news is that Kevin is going to be in town all next week so we can keep our sonogram appointment on Wednesday. Wahoo! I knew I didn't cancel it for a reason...

The bad news it that he'll be in town because of some major changes in his job. He was informed today that he has until the end of October to find another job. He is welcome to look within the company (although I suspect there was some snickering in the background when this was said), but was also encouraged to look outside the company.

Um, okay. So I guess we'll be enjoying a job change for the Breadwinner in our house sometime next month, eh?

This is really bittersweet. I used to work where Kevin works now (we actually met there), but I escaped 5 years ago. I can honestly say that at many times over the 8+ years that Kevin has worked there, it's been The Worst Job on Earth. I can tell you with complete certainty that it was HELL ON EARTH when I worked there. I could tell you horror stories, but let's just say my own exit happened rapidly after the following exchange took place with my Evil Boss:

Evil Boss: "Leah, what do you think it will take for you to get ahead at this company?"

Leah: "I think I would need to grow a penis."

No shit, I really said that. It was a horrible place to work and I've never been so happy as I was to leave and basically tell them to kiss my ass. They were so scared to death that I was going to sue them for the way they treated me that when I quit, they gave me an executive-level severance package (which was fitting because I was the CIO at the time, even if it was a huge joke) which allowed us to buy the townhouse we used to live in.

But I digress...

Kevin needs to leave that soul-sucking pit of Hell. So now he will look for another job in earnest with the hopes of finding something before the holidays roll around and no one feels like hiring. Sounds fun and stress free, no?

Seeing as how we just spent our entire emergency cash fund on IVF and remodeling our kitchen, we will be in trouble if he loses his job without having another. Therefore, look for our bake sales, car washes and yard sales coming your way soon!!

P.S. - I forgot to mention how happy I am that I don't have to make the decision about whether to go to the sonogram next week without Kevin or not. Particularly since so many of you agreed with me that you just wouldn't be able to wait!! Thank you for all the support. :-)

Beta #3

Did you hear my sigh of relief all the way across the globe? Today's beta is looking good:

4,044 (22dpo)

That's a doubling time of 40 hours.

They scheduled my sonogram for Wednesday of next week (10/3) but Kevin is going to be out of town until Friday. I am so anxious to see what's going on in there that I truly, truly want to go without him, but I guess I should wait. Grrrr.

Immediately following today's call from my nurse, another co-worker (and very good friend) told me she was pregnant. She was scared shitless to tell me, which of course makes me feel like a giant heel. She's one of those amazing breeder types who said, "Hey, let's have a baby." Then she stopped taking birth control, had sex with her husband, and got pregnant on the very first try. No shit, it actually happens. (And this is the 2nd time -- she's got a 2 year old son at home.) She's just over 4 weeks so it's very early but I'm grateful she shared with me so I don't blather around making assinine comments.

I'm in my blissfully protective bubble of doubling betas right now, so it didn't send me into hysterics like it normally would. But rest assured that if my pregnancy goes South and I am faced with the prospect of watching my boss and my co-worker be pregnant and deliver within weeks of my due date, I will quit. I love this job with all of my heart, but I will take a leave of absence or quit or something. I do not have the mental fortitude to do it again.

So, yet ANOTHER reason why this must work out. It simply MUST. WORK. OUT.

Farah - Updated

Sunday Update: Because the Gods of IF are cruel sometimes, Farah didn't get the BFP she was hoping for this month. Please head over and offer some support as she embarks on IUI #2.
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Saturday:
Before you go to bed tonight, please head over and wish Farah good luck when she pees on a stick tomorrow morning. Most of you probably already know her since she's one of the nicest and most supportive bloggers out there. Typically, she's among the first to offer a warm, thoughtful comment -- on my blog as well as almost all the blogs that I read!

If my calculations are correct, I think she'll be 13dpo after her first IUI and she's brimming with hope. I'll say an extra prayer tonight that she gets good news.

Still good

Whew. I was calm, cool and collected about today's beta until about an hour ago. Then I broke into a cold sweat! Luckily my angst was unfounded because the number looks good.

1,198 (19dpo)

The nurse said anything over 880 would have been good, so they are happy with this number. It's a doubling time of 40.61 hours. I also asked about the possibility of there being more than one in there and she said probably not. She said stranger things have happened -- they've seen singletons with higher numbers and twins with lower numbers -- but she's assuming there is one.

Here's what BabyMed has to say:

So I can now go enjoy my weekend in (temporary) peace. Next beta is Monday morning. All prayers, wishes, chicken dances, and any such juju is appreciated!

All Good

The number is in and it is . . .

528 (17dpo)

Wahoo! Last time, at 18dpo it was 302. I'm not sure if that means I should be scared or not. I must go do my Dr. Google / Betabase / BabyMed research and figure out if I'm in the singleton range or not.

But, for now, all I can say is WHEW! Next beta will be Friday. Please keep your prayers coming and your fingers crossed until then.

Good news, Bad news

Good news:

You guys are the best support system anyone could possibly ask for. The outpouring of support and excitement has been overwhelming. When I'm feeling nervous or scared, I just log on and read some of your comments. It makes me feel 200% better. Does this mean I'm officially a Comment Whore?

Bad news:

I'm still hopelessly addicted to pee sticks. I woke up yesterday morning and this morning, vowing not to cave in to their lure. But by lunchtime I'm sweating, shaking, and muttering about how to score a stick.

Good news:

I peed on a stick last night around 9pm, and today around 1pm. I had peed (in the toilet, not a cup) fairly recently both times, but hoped that wouldn't matter since my HCG should be nice and high now. Both times, the 2nd line came up as the pee was moving across the window. I've never seen anything like it! On today's stick, the test line darkened at exactly the same pace as the control line. And, unbelievably, it's actually darker than the control line. I guess I've reached the limit of sensitivity on these darned things.

Bad news:

I have still had a fair amount of brown sludge-like spotting (sorry, TMI) since Saturday. Not every time I go to the bathroom, but most of the time. Last night, I got up around 1:30am to pee and when I wiped, there was bright red blood. I swear I felt woozy for a moment. I wiped 2 more times and there was some red blood each time. That sure sucks!

Therefore, I decided to take today off work -- not because I think "bedrest" at 4w2d would make a damn bit of difference, but because I didn't feel like being a raging neurotic wreck at work when I had a relatively easy day anyway. Not enough to distract me!

So far today, no spotting at all. Not even the brown stuff. And I've peed plenty. I'm smart enough to know there's spotting in my future, but to have the reprieve today is nice.

Good news:

I'm educated enough to know that spotting is not necessarily an indication of doom. Let's review my previous pregnancies...

#1 - spotted brown & red from 4w - 8w. Outcome: Megan (healthy, but crazy child)
#2 - spotted brown from 4w - 7w. Outcome: m/c at 8w (chromosomally healthy boy)
#3 - no spotting at all. Outcome: m/c at 8w (trisomy 5 girl)
#4 - spotting brown & red. Outcome: don't know yet

So I've had a pregnancy with spotting that was fine, one with spotting that was not fine, and one with no spotting that was not fine. The bottom line? It's totally out of my control.

Bad news:

It's totally out of my control. I HATE THAT.

Good news:

I have the best nurse on Earth. I emailed her about the spotting and she said I could come in tomorrow for my beta, instead of waiting until Thursday. Wahoo!

The Story of the Sticks (with pictures)

As a true, hopeless pee stick junkie, I even like stories and pictures of pee sticks. Therefore, I'll give you mine. If you don't feel like gawking at many examples of my dried-up pee, and following me on a tour down the rabbit hole that is my mind, you can just skip this post. :-)

I had no idea until I finished writing it that it was going to be so long, therefore don't feel bad if your interest wanes and you drift off to online shopping or a coma or something...

Tuesday morning, 9dpo / 6dp3dt

As I had already posted, I felt like total crap. I assumed this meant that all 3 embryos stuck, I was in store for triplets, and that HCG was running rampant through my system. Therefore, I was surely going to get rewarded with a line so early in the game.

Yeah, except it didn't happen like that at all. I peed on a dollar store stick and was instead greeted by vast, blinding whiteness. I don't even have a picture of this one because I threw it away in a fit of rage later that day.

Tuesday night, still 9dpo / 6dp3dt

Same song, different verse. Felt like shit all day long, so I still simply couldn't believe there was NOTHING going on in my system. I peed on another dollar store stick and, you guessed it, white white whitey white white. It got thrown away too. Because it sucked.

I didn't even blog about these two embarrassments because, well, how many times can I expect you wonderfully supportive people to say, "Stop it, you're peeing too early" and still have the patience to read my neurotic and irrational ramblings?

Wednesday morning, 10dpo / 7dp3dt

Woke up twice during the night and had to pee badly each time, but refused to so that I didn't ruin the sanctity of FMU. For my efforts, I was presented another glaring BFN. In the trashcan with you!

Wednesday night, 10dpo / 7dp3dt

You already see where this is going, I'm a raging idiot. Normally, I'm all about lots of pee sticks, but not multiple ones in the same day. However, this was the cycle where I discovered the magic of the dollar store HPT. I didn't know such a thing existed until LJ turned me on to them. Anyway, I was peeing on them like a territorial dog with a UTI, but I didn't care because it's only a dollar wasted!

Of course this one was negative too. I even took the damn thing completely apart and stood on my bathroom vanity to get it closer to the light. I saved this one, but who the hell wants to see a picture of a negative pee stick? Not me, that's for sure. I just wanted to keep it around in case a line magically appeared while I was sleeping. It didn't. (No one EVER said I was exactly the brightest, okay?)

Thursday morning, 11dpo / 8dp3dt

Still feeling like crap, still have outrageously sore boobs, still have a shred of hope. I bust out my last dollar store pee stick (thank GOD that I only bought 5 of them or I'd probably have tested every 4 hours) and get to it.

I wait, and wait, and wait. Nuthin'. A teeny, tiny little portion of my brain is screaming, "It is still early! This just means there probably isn't more than one!" Yeah, whatever. I threw the test in the drawer, not even willing to give it the effort of walking across the bathroom to the trashcan.

I went to work very bummed out, even cried in the bathroom briefly. I got 3 comments from co-workers on my sour mood. Thankfully, my team had a fun day planned wherein we left work at 11am, went to lunch at PF.Chang's, then went to Let's.Dish. Of course the fact that the entire day revolved around food sucked because I'm still struggling along on Weight Watchers. Guess how many things you can eat at PF.Chang's that aren't 9,527 points? Very few. Spinach, that's about it. Good for Popeye muscles, bad for mood enhancement.

Thursday night, 11po / 8dp3dt

I yanked open my bathroom vanity drawer to stare in disbelief again at this morning's pathetic pee stick. I fantasized all day about how I would curse and spit at it, taking out all of my ugly feelings on a poor, helpless little pee stick. I had even planned to let out a gutteral wail and throw it against the wall in a cheezy display of soap opera-like drama.


That's when I saw the teeny, tiniest ghost of a line. Instantly, I tore that bastard apart. Free from the confines of the plastic housing, I could see the faintest of lines. I pulled out the negative pee stick from Wednesday and compared -- no line on Wednesday's test.

Now I'm not so much of an idiot that I failed to realize I was hyperventilating over a evaporation line, but I didn't care at the time. I was desperate and grasping at straws.

Bereft of any more dollar store tests, I frantically rifled through my bathroom cabinets and found my stash of "fancy" tests. I had 2 FRERs and 1 Answer. I loathe FRERs because the variability of the line darkness from day to day drove me insane (hard to believe it could get worse than my current state of affairs, eh?).

So I peed in the cup, opened the Answer test with shaking hands, and dipped away. What happened? Nothing. I stared at that test so hard and so long that my eyes started burning. Finally, I gave up around the 3 minute mark. I know you are not supposed to read the test after 10 minutes, so I went away for 5 minutes or so (picture me nonchalantly ambling around the top floor of my house, hands clasped behind my back, whistling a merry little tune) and came back to check.

Shazam! There was a line. Okay, it was more of a suggestion of a line. But there was the faintest smudge of pink there. I gave it another couple of minutes and took a picture of it. I texted my buddy Rho, and then emailed the picture to Erin. She, being the kind soul that she is, agreed that there was definitely something there. She also agreed to pee on a stick herself. As we all know by now, hers is a mighty happy story.

I made the grave mistake of showing the ghostly-line test to Kevin. Remember him, the one who didn't want me to POAS at all? He was NOT impressed with what he saw and said, "This is EXACTLY why I didn't want you to do any of these stupid tests." Hmmph, who needs your opinion anyway, Mr. David Downer?

For your viewing pleasure, here are the tests in question:

Dollar store test with a line so faint you probably can't see it in the photo.














Answer test with a crazy faint line too, but it's darkened a little in the passing days so it's probably at least a little visible. Or not. But in real life, it's a shy little line.













I went to bed, brimming with hope. I actually WANTED to pee on a stick the next morning, it wasn't going to be like a death march to the toilet. Oh yeah, but before turning in for the night, I drove directly to Walgreen's and bought some digital tests.

Friday morning, 12dpo / 9dp3dt

I was so deathly afraid of seeing "Not Pregnant" on the digital test, I spent a full 5 minutes fretting and wringing my hands over a steaming cup of golden pee before I bit the bullet and dipped it. I popped the stick in the digital holder right away and held my breath. It blinked. And blinked. And blinked. I read the directions, it was only supposed to blink for a max of 3 minutes. I know I was coming up on the 3 minute mark and I broke into a cold sweat.

Then it came up, at the very last second: "Pregnant." I literally whooped out loud and almost fell into my own bathtub jumping around the bathroom. Because I couldn't control myself, I ejected the stick and investigated the line. Not crazy dark, but darker than any of yesterday's nonsense.

I took a picture of the digital stick before the words disappeared and emailed it to Kevin. No lines to interpret, just an obvious word. He loved it, and has never once said a thing about me peeing on sticks since then.

Here's the picture of the stick that gets inserted:

It's really light in this picture, looks better in person.

Friday evening, 12dpo / 9dpt3dt

Unable to control myself, I had to do another test. I didn't want to waste my only other digital test, so I decided to give the evil FRER a shot. It took a minute or so, and it's definitely not the darkest of lines, but there was no doubt about it at this point.











Saturday morning, 13dpo / 10dp3dt

Didn't I just say there was no doubt about it? Yeah, but I've also repeatedly said I'm a junkie. I don't know why I was saving the last digital for Sunday, but I was. So I acquiesed and peed on an FRER again. It came up almost instantly and was nice and dark.

Sunday morning, 14dpo / 11dp3dt

I went with the digital so that I wouldn't freak if the line was different.

However, in some twisted version of is-this-line-darker-than-the-others, I began counting the number of flashes it took until "Pregnant" came up. Last time (not that I'm obsessive or anything), it took almost 150 flashes, give or take a few. This time? 55 flashes. I think that's less than a minute. Woot!

Of course I popped the stick out and was appropriately pleased with the line darkness.










I vowed that today is my last pee stick day. (Except for Thursday because I can't head into Beta Day without that security blanket.)

Thank you for following me on my pictorial pee stick journey. I have no idea what the rest of this will bring, but I am at least sustained by the fact that I'm a proud owner of 6 positive pee sticks. If I wasn't afraid they'd smell, I'd sleep with them under my pillow.

For Truth and Justice Everywhere

One of our fish had babies this morning. Apparently I might too...

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Obviously it's insanely early, but damn am I one seriously happy infertile today!!

If you want to see some Wonder Twins: Activate! magic, head on over and check out the results after I browbeat Erin into peeing on a stick with me.

Thank you so much for all of your cheerleading this week. I know I've been a mess, and your support kept me from going completely off the deep end.

Devil Sticks: 2 Super Heroes: 0

The flame of Hope is flickering, but hasn't been blown out completely yet. I will continue to test until 13 or 14dpo.

Devil Sticks: 1 Super Heroes: 0

Well, today's POAS exercise was a real letdown. Not the teeny, tiniest, faintest whisper of a shadow of a line. And trust me, I looked at it under interrogation-quality light.

I promise not to give up hope, but my faith is definitely shaken.

(I guess I shouldn't assume everyone is obsessing about the minute details of my cycle and let you know that it's 10dpo or 7dp3dt.)

You look like a monkey, and you smell like one too

I don't usually tick off my ailments for everyone to see because, really, who cares? But I feel so shitty that I have to tell someone and I choose you guys. :-)

I don't feel shitty in that ooh-i-think-i'm-pregnant way. I just feel shitty in a dozen different ways and have since the retrieval and transfer. In a way it's nice because with the first IVF (at least the first one that made it to retrieval and transfer), I felt this shitty and it worked (albiet briefly). With the second IVF, I felt totally fine -- I swear it was like I had defective estrogen pills and progesterone in oil because I felt no effects at all whatsoever. Go figure.

Anyway, without further adeiu, here are my complaints for today. I refuse to call them "symptoms" because they cannot be related in any way to the ficticious HCG that may or may not be floating around in my system since implantation that happened about 8 seconds ago (it's 8dpo so, in theory, time for implanting).

1. Feel shitty - Um, yeah, I just feel shitty. Luckily the horrific headaches that I got on the stims are gone. This benefit far outweighs any of the problems I prattle on about here, so don't think I'm not feeling like one lucky duck. But it would be nice if I didn't have 827 random pains whilst I feel like the entire inner cavity of my body has been hallowed out and filled with wet sand.

2. Round ligament pain - I had insanely painful round ligament pains when I was pregnant with Megan. They were truly debilitating. Ever since she was born, I've continued to have them especially around AF's visit -- my guess is that even the subtle changes in uterine weight caused by the extra blood puts strain on them. It really sucks. They always reach an all-time high just before AF comes during a progesterone-enhanced cycle.

3. Bloating - I look like a dead trout. Okay, if I was to be cute about it, I'd say I look like I'm 5 months pregnant. But mostly I feel like one of those nasty, decaying, bloated fish you find washed up on the shore of a highly toxic lake. It's so not cool.

4. Heartburn - Ugh. Nothing seems to keep it at bay. I'm nervous to take Tums or Pepcid too close to my morning and evening estrogen pills/vitamins/etc so my window of attempted relief is pretty small. Over the weekend it hurt so much I swear I was having a heart attack what with all the pain in my chest. Actually, today, it's considerably better so who knows.

5. Sore stomach - I distinctly remember reading other people's complaint lists post-transfer and seeing them complain about sore stomach muscles. I didn't really know what they meant, but now I do. It feels like I've done 1,000 situps in a row. (Truthfully, I haven't done 1,000 in the past 12 years combined so that's just hilarious to me.) It's sort of a weird feeling, as if I'm constantly tensing up my stomach muscles and can't make them relax. It makes me mad because I'm trying desperately to relax and visualize my embie(s) gleefully burrowing in, but I'm afraid I'm creating a hostile environment with all this tight stomach muscle nonsense.

6. Spotting - This is SO annoying. I bled the day of and the day after my retrieval. Then everything was fine until the back-to-back transfers. They both hurt more than any of the previous ones so I remember thinking that I'm surely going to bleed from this. I didn't bleed that day, but every single day since I've spotted. The first day, it was pink and since then it's been brown every day. Again, it makes me feel like my ute isn't being very hospitable to the new neighbors.

7. Cramping - This too has been there every single day since the transfer. For the first 3 days, it was a constant, never-ending mild cramping. More annoying than anything else, except that it makes me clutch my midsection (particuarly in the uterus-ovary region) often which I have to assume makes people suspicious. I typically get cysts after a stim cycle so I'm sure part of the pain is my ovaries making their displeasure known -- especially since it's often on the right side and that was the ovary that overachieved (well, at least as compared to it's counterpart). Luckily it's waaaaaay too early for me to be worrying about an ectopic problem, I'm just chalking it up to a statement of displeasure regarding the poking and prodding last week, and some nagging cysts.

So there you have it. I feel like shit and I bet I look like it too. (Anyone else humming that version of Happy Birthday?) POAS is set for Wednesday but I might start tomorrow just so I can feel like I'm doing something. Plus, I'll have already gotten over the initial shock of a negative test so that I don't get all freaked if it stays negative for the next few days. Of course it won't do that because this cycle WORKED. I am hopeful that it did and LJ has simply WILLED it to work, so it must.

Choose Hope

So, Leah, how is the 2WW going? Usually, I'd say, "Fine, just fine. Thanks ever so much for asking!" Then I'd go off into a corner to review the donor egg paperwork again, resigned to the impending doom of next week's POAS adventure.

However, this time around, I just decided to say “Fuck it.” I’m going to be hopeful. I have always been the type of person that sets their expectations low. That way, I’m never disappointed. Either it doesn’t work out and it was what I expected anyway. Or it does work out and I get to be pleasantly surprised.

But I’ve learned that it doesn’t really happen that way.

It turns out that while I’m busy preparing for the worst, keeping optimism in check and dwelling on my low expectations, I must have let a little Hope seep through. At the time, I don’t feel like that is what’s happening, but when the world comes crashing down (cancelled cycle, BFN, miscarriage, etc.), it still hurts like hell. So obviously I’ve let myself get my hopes up.

Let’s review the options:

1. Be hopeful and then get disappointed when it doesn’t work out

2. Be pessimistic and then get disappointed when it doesn’t work out

Hmmmmm. I’m a college-educated woman so the similarity of the outcomes doesn’t escape me. The chief difference seems to be how I am CHOOSING to spend the time prior to the disappointment. Heck, I could get really crazy here and assume, just for shits and giggles, that there isn’t a disappointment at the end of the road. Yeah, but I’m not ready to go there quite yet.

I hate to harp on any one thing, but I can’t stop thinking about some advice that Mel gave to LJ. It really resonated with me and has caused a subtle shift in my attitude. The advice was basically, “Celebrate whenever you can. Even if it’s short-lived.” Well, damnit, she’s right! Being the realist (read: pessimist) that I am, I’m essentially robbing myself of happiness.

Let’s expand further on the above options:

1. Be hopeful, spend lots of time wishing and dreaming and fantasizing about a new baby in our lives and just generally have a happy outlook during the 2WW, then get disappointed when it doesn’t work out

2. Be pessimistic, spend lots of time fretting and worrying and being convinced that it isn’t working and just generally have a shitty outlook during the 2WW, then get disappointed when it doesn’t work out

I can choose to spend the 2WW dreaming of baby names and midnight feedings. I can choose to spend the 2WW calculating my due date and planning how to tell our families the big news. I can choose to spend the 2WW wondering if MORE than one will stick.

Or I can choose to spend the 2WW being a giant ball of stress, nerves and bitchiness.

I’ve made my decision. I’m going to choose Hope. It may not work, but I’m certainly going to give it a try. Wish me luck.

2 for the price of 1

Picture this scene… It’s transfer time. I’m lying on the table, knees spread nice and wiiiiiide apart, bright light shining on my could-be-manicured-a-little-better womanhood, speculum wrenching my girlie bits wide, painfully inserted catheter hanging out, 400 pound gorilla pushing the ultrasound probe on my full bladder so hard I think it’s going to pop like a well-fed tick. Everyone is gathered ‘round my crotch staring with an intensity so sharp that I expect them to start munching on popcorn and Raisinettes at any moment.

Mr. Hot-But-I-Look-Dumb Embryologist comes with in our 3 fabulous embies, glances at my fully-exposed private parts (with nary a complimentary word, hmmph), and hands the embryos to the Doctor. Said Doctor pushes the plunger and shazam! In go our embies. Much celebrating and high-fiving occurs.

Now we all sit very still for 1 minute to let things “rest.” Everyone in the room is clothed except me. Everyone in the room has their sexual organs covered except me. Everyone in the room is staring at my crotch except me.* It’s a super-dee-duper comfortable situation.

The Doctor smiles, says that everything went “perfect” and gives the catheter to Mr. HBILD Embryologist to check and make sure none of the embryos got “stuck” and left behind in the catheter. Since this really never happens, we all assume it’s fine and they begin to dismantle the scene – the sonographer starts cleaning up the 14 pounds of goo she put on my abdomen to slide the probe around, the Doctor takes out the speculum and begins to lower the table. I start dreaming of baby names.

Suspiciously, that damn Embryologist isn’t back yet. Ms. Doctor sticks her head out the door into the Lab and asks, “All clear?” I’m sure you can guess where this is going.

Sure enough, one of the embryos is stuck in the catheter. The Doctor quickly covers and says, “Oh, it’s not a big deal, it happens.” To which I reply, “Really? How often?” She says, “About 5% of the time.” Great. She then spent lots of time reassuring me that this will not affect the outcome of embryonic health of our future child(ren). Amazingly, I didn’t freak out, I just sort of accepted it.

So, as I was supposed to be letting the wave of peace and calm overtake me, instead I was basically enjoying a 2nd transfer. Lather, rinse, repeat. Raise the table up, let your knees fall to the side, insert the speculum, jab in the catheter, slime me with goo and crush my bladder/uterus, etc. Big fun. However, this time, that 3rd one made it to the other side. To the oasis that is my Enclave.

Everyone present agreed that if that 3rd one is the one that sticks, we have a long road ahead of us because it will have been a troublemaker since before it entered the womb. Great, just great.

I wanted to name the embies Frick, Frack and Trouble. That got vetoed. I think we are going to settle on The SuperHeroes: Batman, Robin and Spidey**. I chose Batman and Robin because those two sailed right in together with no problem. Spidey is the one with the sticky feet who refused to climb on out of the catheter. Hopefully the 3 of them are in there, solving crimes (such as oh, I don’t know, The Mystery of the Multiple Miscarriages) and saving all of uterine humanity. I’m proud of them already.

So there you have it. The Tale of the Two Transfers. I don’t recommend it. However, if this cycle works, then I could have gladly endured 200 transfers in a row if that’s what was necessary.

Beta is set for September 20th. Yeah, about 100 years away. Seriously, they purposely schedule it for 18dpo. Isn’t that insane? Whatever. I will be POAS next Wednesday (10dpo). Kevin asked me not to, but I simply cannot refrain. I just can’t, I’m not that person. I’m the kind that pees on sticks. I guess he knows that because the other day he said, “You’ll have to tell me when you start taking home tests, because I know you will.” This is why I married him.

* I let Kevin read this before I posted it and he was quick to point out that HE wasn’t getting to stare at my crotch. I think he said it in an effort to make me feel better, but really it just underscored that 4 other complete strangers were oogling me while, once again, my poor husband is left out of the process. Talk about demystifying the passion of babymaking…

** Obviously, I shamelessly stole the inspiration for our embryo names from Erin. Now hop over there and send her some sticky vibes for the Wonder Twins!

Okey Dokey

Bedrest sucks. I couldn't get wireless to work on my laptop, so I'm Internet-less. Kevin is a strict, raving loon when it comes to the post-transfer bedrest stuff, so I've been chained to the bed. He finally left this morning to go to Target for something, so I snuck downstairs to type a quick update...

All 3 were still going strong -- apparently 2 of them were starting to compact already which is good. Of course there is a story to tell, but I'll post that later tonight after my official 24 hours of confinement have ended.

So, bottom line is that everything went fine and we've got 3 on board. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please let 1 of them stick around for the long haul.

THANK YOU so much to everyone who commented and supported me. It sounds like so much Hallmark-y bullshit, but I really did feel your good vibes!

The Enclave

All 5 are chugging along, but 2 are looking sketchy.

As of this morning, one of them was only 2 cells. Apparently that might be fine, but sounds sluggish to me.

The other 4 embryos were 4 cells, so that's good, but one of them had 30% fragmentation so it's not going to make it.

Hopefully the remaining 3 will hang in there until tomorrow and return to the nice, warm enclave of my womanhood.

Transfer is at 3:30pm tomorrow. Wish me and our embies lots of luck!

So far, so good

Of the 6 retrieved, all 6 were mature. Of them, 5 fertilized normally yesterday. As of today, all 5 are chugging along. Wahoo!

I was crazy nervous because they didn't call me this morning. We went out running errands around 9am and just got home (1pm). All the nurses know to call my cell phone for updates, so when it was after noon and no one had called, I was praying that they just screwed up and called my home phone.

Turns out, that's what they did. For the first time ever, Dr. Chat himself called me with the update. Usually it's a nurse or the embryologist or someone, but I guess since Dr. Chat did the retrieval himself, he wanted to call with the update himself. Very nice of him.

Now I just wait on pins and needles to hear Erin's report!

Okay

Retrieval went fine. The grand total is 6 eggs. I was hoping for more, but am still happy with the 6. Hopefully they are of great quality and we get some nice embies to transfer on Wednesday.

My RE (Dr. Chat) did the retrieval, so it was nice to see such a familiar face. Afterwards he gushed about how picture-perfect the retrieval was so at least I get an A+ for the mechanics. :-)

I've been reading everyone else's blogs, but have been slacking on commenting lately. I'll plan to catch up tonight. Just know that I've been following everyone and thinking about you a lot!

Thanks again for all of your wishes for good luck. Hopefully they worked this time!