Oh, my gosh

“How can I bear so much happiness!”—Jane Bennet, Pride & Prejudice

Hubs convinced me to take an HPT before work this morning. I hate those darn things, but, as it usually goes with hubs, he convinced me of the sagacity of his request. It would be best to get my emotions (mostly) under control somewhere besides my cube. And we’d be together, bad or good.

And then. AND THEN!

There were two lines!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And, just a bit ago, a phone call with 13dpiui Beta news. Positive!

I know. I KNOW!!!! It’s crazy and I feel totally normal and I can’t stop shaking and I’ve been up since 4am and this all feels like a dream and I never ever want to wake up. THANK YOU DR. AWESOME! The man is a genius and I love him.

I don’t know what to say except I will try to articulate this most heart-felt prayer and wish, which I feel with every cell in my being: Please, please, please, please, please let this be THE ONE. Please let it be healthy and strong. Please let THIS BE IT. Please, please, please.

IVF consult

It was this morning and it was good. I love Dr. Awesome. Love, love, love. Hubs and I had both done a ton of research over the past couple of months, so all of our Qs were asked pretty much for the sake of hearing him answer in his understanding, intelligent, calm, confident way. We are signed up to begin meds on August 29, but that might pushed back if my requisite residual cyst is really large or decides to spew estrogen or invite some friends to hang out with it.

Also, when Dr. A was drawing my blood afterward, we chatted about my job, which he thinks is really cool, and about The Girl With A Dragon Tattoo, which is the book we both read this summer. So now I’m pretty sure we’re BFFs. Muhahaha!

No, in all seriousness, because IVF is NO LAUGHING MATTER, it was a good consult. And I am so pleased we switched clinics last month. (Don’t get me started on the regret that brews when I think about hanging on with clinic #1 as long as I did. Alas!)

My heart’s been racing since I woke up this morning. I think consults just wig me out. And, then, you know, IVF is a very big deal and part of me is absolutely freaking out that we have reached this point. (Well, almost, tomorrow’s Beta result will be the final word.) I am not afraid of the injections, or the retrieval, or any of that stuff. I mean, I know it’s terribly unpleasant and stressful and emotional and uncomfortable and hard on my body, but I believe I can do it.

I am afraid of: What if THIS doesn’t work?

Dr. Awesome is holding our hearts and our future in his hands. Thank goodness I trust him 100%.

It’s in the water. Or NOT.

They are all so very, very happy. And I feel so very, very far away from them.

******

I have this coworker who I interact with directly about 20 times a day. She’s been working at my office for about two years and always wears big baggy stuff, but over the past couple of months I’ve been eyeing her tummy because I had a feeling it was filling out. But mostly because I swear I (unfortunately) have the WORLD’s BEST PREGNANCY RADAR. Yeah, she’s knocked up. She’s announcing it and everyone is congratulating her and buzzing about it and she is a really, really sweet and nice person and I am disgusted by my annoyance and jealousy.

There is another coworker who ALSO has a belly situation going on and I’m totally getting the knocked up vibes from her (repeat: my pregnancy radar). Announcement #2, coming soon to a cubicle near you.

And there is a third coworker, who my boss, in a small lunch setting early this week, very inappropriately mentioned that she saw her at Lollla playing with her toddler nephew and she looked so at ease and naturally maternal and didn’t she just finish that half-marathon that was on her life to-do list and get married over Christmas and don’t you think she’ll be pregnant soon? PUKE. And the truth is that, yeah, she probably will, I was thinking the exact same thing.

And there is the fourth coworker, who’s last day is this Friday, because he and his wife are moving to another state to be closer to her family and raise their baby who’s due in December. And there is the office baby shower and post-work send-off party for him and his pregnant wife this Friday and I don’t know how I’ll make it through it all on the same day as my Beta, where inevitably I will be told my body didn’t work. Again. And for the record, he is ALSO a fabulously wonderful person who I really like and I will miss him, but by the way this guy hadn’t even MET his wife when I started working here four years ago, when hubs and I were newly married and had six years of dating behind us.

I also sit in the cube next to a guy who’s wife had a baby last September, so clearly that is what everyone asks him about and what he talks about and why he’s always submitting time-off request to me with stories about having to stay home with his “sick child.” And he is also really cool. I work with wonderful people, they’re just all in their 20s and 30s and everyone’s getting married and buying homes and having babies and sometimes it’s too much for a heartbroken Eyeore like me.

And then, as you know, I go home to the stroller in my lobby and walk past my pregnant neighbor’s door and hear the adorable little baby cries and laughter coming from their apartment. And then I unlock the door to my ginormous, empty apartment, that we bought because we were supposed to have babies to fill it with, and then I drop my bag and close my eyes and take a deep breath and try not crumple under the weight of my heavy heart, and its guilt, and regret, and fear, and longing.

Zonked

Whew, what an awesome weekend!

Friday Up at 5am to head into clinic #1 for my 7dpo progesterone test. (It was above 20, phew.) Loooong full day of work. Home to change and then out for a late din, then headed to the Edward Sharpe Lolla “after-show.” And by “after,” I mean the band finally went on at 12:30am. We got home at 3am. They were fantastic, but ooof, I am not a spring chicken who can power through those late nights!!

Saturday Freelanced all day. (I really need to chill out on all the work outside of work. Blah!) Mellllllllow and wonderful evening.

Sunday Lollapalooza! We began the day listening to The Antlers under a grey and drizzly sky, but the weather quickly morphed into a beautiful, sunny August scorcher. We had a blast hanging out with the gloriously pregnant APlusB (who looks so happy, healthy and great!!!) and checking out ridiculously great bands. So fun!!! It all ended with an awesome set from Arcade Fire that finished up around 10pm.

Today Tired. Tired. Tired.

It was a really fun and distracting weekend, even though I’m crazy worn out from the late nights and all of the standing. So now it’s 10dpiui. And I feel 100% normal and symptom-free. Again! Anyway, moving on: In my first injects/IUI cycle my period didn’t start until I stopped the supps, but last injects/IUI cycle I began my period on 12piui (while on the supps)…so I’m carefully guarding my heart and mentally/emotionally prepping for that.

If IVF is in our near future, so be it. This week’s mantra: What will be, WILL BE.

Zen zen zen zen.

Let’s make a deal

The stakes are higher this go-round. No, not just because of my inevitable post-2ww cyst and bench time, or the emotional trauma and inconvenience of having to go through another three weeks of injections/monitoring/etc, or the impending holy-sh*tness of IVF.

You see, back in June, hubs and I compromised that we would go through one more cycle with Dr. K at clinic #1. (I really wanted to jump ship and go to Dr. Awesome a clinic #2 right away.) If it didn’t work, we’d head to Dr. A for our third and final injects/IUI cycle. Somewhere in the middle of the June injections, I think it was after my first monitoring appointment, I made a deal with hubs. If we got pregnant this cycle, I would buy him all of his beers* for the next 12 months. As the champion of Dr. K and her Luveris/slow & steady/no stepping-up meds protocol, I decided that he would deserve some HUGE PROPS if this actually worked. So. Yes. A full year of beer, on me. If, and only if, Dr. K’s plan worked.

Ever since then it’s kind of been a joke that it would be really really really really really awesome for him if we were to get pregnant this cycle. Not only would it be, you know, the happiest and most relieving thing EVER, it would also mean he’d be drinking on the house for the next year. (Picture a pregnant lady buying her husband’s beer at a bar, the liquor store, at dinner….whew, we’d get some raised eyebrows! I would revel in them!)

So you can see this is a very important 2ww for us, my friends! The only problems: I don’t know if 1) I had a good eggie because of my fracked up E2 level on trigger day, 2) if I even ovulated, and 3) I haven’t had single DANG SYMPTOM suggesting Dr. K’s protocol worked. (I feel just like I did in my May 2ww….and we know how that ended.) But if I were suddenly to develop tingly nipples/aching breasts/metallic taste/twitching uterus/bloating/cramps/nausea/sensitivity to smell/WHATEVER in the next five days….I would be the happiest person on Earth. And I would love nothing more than to start saving my pennies for hubs’s beers.

*In case you were curious, hubs isn’t a big drinker. He just enjoys the occasional unwind-after-a-long-day beer or football game beer or dinner beer.

Googled out

Hi bloggies. I hope everyone had a great July 4th weekend! I spent Saturday working on some big freelance deadlines and also fit in some extensive Googling and message-boarding on my low-estrogen situation. Hubs Googled and found some cool studies that suggest the link between E2 and number of mature follies is not as important as I thought. Of course, I also found some studies that suggested otherwise. You can drive yourself NUTSO with Google Scholar, my friends! And don’t even get me started on message boards…oof, lots of scary/wrong/stupid information floating around out there.

It didn’t work

There will be no cinematic, beginners-luck, image-of-a-positive-HPT, how-I-told-hubs finale to this cycle, dear bloggies. I guess I knew it in my heart of hearts when NOTHING felt even slightly different in me as the days ticked by during the 2ww. Still, one little line is a sad sight.

I think we’ll have a forced break in June, because of yet another wedding trip. (Gah!) Now that I’m stopping the prog supps, my period would have to show up by the weekend (and I’d have to be cyst-free, what are the chances with my history?!) for us to squeeze in another cycle before we leave town on June 18 (fyi, I didn’t IUI until CD17 of this cycle, and Dr. K wants to lower my dosage next time).

So, we will try again as soon as we can. And keep our fingers crossed that I just fell on the wrong side of the coin toss this month. That someday I WILL see two lines. In the meantime, I’m booking a consult with APlusB’s Dr. Awesome in June. My clinic has subpar IVF rates and his are the best in our area; we want to meet with him to begin exploring our options if we need to go that route. Maybe we’ll even do our next injects cycle with him. It might be time for a fresh start with a new clinic.

Positives of this cycle

1. My lining kicked ass! We have come so far from the dark Clomid days when Dr. C was talking about a surrogate.

2. I totally responded to the Gonal-F. More slowly than some folks, sure, but I did get a mature follie.

3. As always, hubs has great swimmers and for that we are very, very grateful.

4. We didn’t get canceled!

5. We made it to IUI-land for the first time!

Room for improvement

1. I would love to see my lining get past 8mm.

2. We had one mature follie this month. Next time it would be awesome to have two or three or four legitimately mature follies before triggering.

3. Hubs and I were both sick with colds on IUI day (him especially, poor guy). I sniffled and sneezed my way through the first week of the 2ww. Feeling 100% healthy would be great next time.

4. We traveled 9DPO and 11DPO; hopefully next cycle falls during a more chill, stay-at-home time in our lives.

5. I probably won’t go running during my next 2ww. I doubt it messed up anything, but the fact that I’m even writing this means I’m not 110% convinced it was okay.

Rookie ramblings

The wedding weekend in NYC was wonderful and a very, very nice distraction. I am now home and a whopping 12 days into the 2ww! 🙂 I DID end up jogging with my good friend over the weekend (who is incredibly dear to me but does not know about my IF because I seem to only be able to talk to you bloggies about it) and it felt awesome. I took it very EZ and drank lots and lots of water during the run and am fairly certain I didn’t thwart any potential implantation.

Speaking of implantation, I still have zero signs that we’re finally pregnant. On the night of 8DPO I *thought* I might’ve had a trace of that twinge-y lower abdomen stuff many women describe, but it only lasted one evening and, honestly, I was thinking about my uterus so intently that night that it’s more likely I either a) imagined it, or b) was so hyper-aware of my body that I noticed something that’s always there anyways.

And that, my friends, is it….so whatevs! I have zero desire to test early. I’ve decided folks who test early must have a strong suspicion that they’re knocked up so they’re really excited to see that BFP. Me? I’m still hoping for a miracle and praying for a symptom here or there, but mostly trying to prepare my psyche and heart for Wednesday morning’s result. (My clinic only does a Beta if you get a positive HPT; I need to go buy one.)

When in doubt, which is 97.7% of the time, I cling to this awesome post by Leslie as proof that—depsite what blog-land and message boards suggest—it IS definitely possible to be knocked up without any symptoms. Whatever happens, I will take the 2ww to being benched ANY TIME. Of COURSE I would be over the moon to have beginner’s luck, but simply living with the potential that our hopes and dreams could finally be realized has been truly amazing. A couple times I even daydreamed about what we might name our little one. I haven’t allowed myself to do that since last summer when I blissfully and naively thought the answer to my lack-of-period-woes was a 10-day dose of Provera. I have absolutely treasured these two weeks of feeling—for the first legit time—like we’ve had a shot at starting our little family.

529,200spiui

529,200 seconds since my IUI. Or 8 days and a few hours.

This week I’ve been tackling a work assignment that involves interviewing active pregnant women about their exercise fears after giving birth. In other words, How will I have time to squeeze in a workout? What should I do with my baby while he’s in the jogging stroller? Can I listen to an iPod while I’m running with a jogging stroller? Will I feel guilty leaving my baby with my husband while I go running? Will I have the energy/time to run after giving birth?

Gah.

It is seriously a cruel, cruel project in the midst of TTC, especially the 2ww. I can’t get out of it. And I can’t do anything except be the gung-ho little worker bee I always am. Well, I can sob inside as I interview these women about their pregnancies and post-birth plans. And then I can complain to you guys about it. 🙂 Take that, horrible work assignment!

Anyway. I have nothing to report except that I’ve continued to feel 100% normal and I’m blase about this working. I will have moments of hope (hey, some women never feel anything! why NOT me? etc), but then I sort of effortlessly fade back into calculating when I’ll get my period once I stop the Crinone and whether I’ll have cysts and how even if I don’t I will probably have to take June off because we have another freaking out-of-town wedding the weekend of June 18 and then will I even get to cycle in July because we have ANOTHER wedding trip then. Um, yeah. You get the idea. Gah. Gah. Gah.

I wish someone could ship me away to an island where I wouldn’t have to see/hear/talk to people about anything baby-related….until I’m successfully knocked up. (Which I guess would require my RE, a nurse, hubs and a ton of Gonal-F to come with me….that’s okay, they’re allowed.)

One of those days my friends, one of those days.

Thank goodness I am leaving town tomorrow. I’ll be seeing old friends and I’ll HAVE to put on my happy face.

My first 2ww

Oh, my lord. I am so freaking bloated! My ovary area feels exceptionally stabby and crampy. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk. I’d use a sick day, but I know I’d just go home and Google the crap out of my numbers (Lining! One mature follie! Sample for today’s IUI!) and I don’t think that would be healthy (or fun)!

But mentally and emotionally, I am feeling happy, strong and more like myself than I have since TTC. Yip! 🙂 I will not attribute this to “hope,” because, quite honestly, I’m pretty lukewarm about everything. And I felt like Dr. K and nurse G were equally lukewarm about my chances this morning; hubs assures me I am nutso and he didn’t get that vibe at all. (I’d probably be happier with a cheerleader overseeing my treatment instead of an RE.) I’m relieved to have made it to IUI land and am very happy to be in my first legit 2ww (I don’t really count December—the one ovulatory cycle I’ve had—with 3.2mm lining).

I know a lot of you are BIG BELIEVERS that “what the mind believes, the body achieves” and I agree that it’s gooooood to be positive and I appreciate the comments I’ve been getting to that effect. HOWEVER, I hope you will understand me feeling happy without simultaneously feeling like, “Ohhh yeah, this is IT!”

I was talking to hubs the night we triggered and I said, “Do you think there is ANY chance this could even work?” (Because in my heart I struggle to have even 1% of faith that my body can get pregnant. I want it so badly, but it just seems so foreign to me. PUPO? Not me, that would be totally ridic!) And hubs looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Of course it can work! Why would we go through all of this if it couldn’t?”

Hmmm. A good point.

Sometimes you have to let other people believe and hope for you.