I do not like beta days. And mine is still three days away. Ugh. How am I ever going to make it until then?
Still tired.
I spent my weekend helping my best friend, C, put together her nursery after her diaper party on Sunday. It was lots of fun, and we got a lot done. She only has three more weeks until her EDD, and her husband doesn't seem to understand that babies come on their own time. And that can mean tomorrow. Meanwhile, C's crib isn't done yet, and nor is the changing table, or...anything.
So, we ended up going on a shopping spree, then came back and washed all the newborn clothes and bedding and got to work. I think we worked on the nursery for a few hours before my husband ran out of patience and we had to drive back home.
I got home and came down with a migraine, so I ended up going to bed early. Wah.
Three more days. Three more days.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
4dp6dt: Hanging in There
I am hanging in there, I guess. There are times when I am very confident, and then there are fleeting moments of dread and fear that this didn't work. I try and push those moments from my mind when they come, but it's so hard not to think about it.
And these thoughts usually get out of control, like spiraling into wondering if I will need donor eggs...if I will do another FET...if I will do a new fresh cycle...if I will go back to using clomid or IUIs...if I'll just stop. What if I just can't get pregnant?
I know I've brought this up before, but when I take a moment and think about this whole situation, I think back to the distinct times as a teenager when I just knew that I'd have a hard time getting pregnant. Don't ask me how I knew...but I knew. It was always my biggest fear, and now I'm living that fear, and sometimes it seems so surreal. I ask myself over and over again why I have to go through this. Why? I'll blame myself. I'll hate myself. And then it will go away.
It is what it is. There's nothing I can do about this. I can't keep flooding my thoughts with the realization that my biggest fear has come true. It's not going to do anything for me in the long run.
Some women would have quit by now. Some would have broken under all I've been through. But I'm not quitting, and I'm not breaking. I'm fragile, sure, but I'm not breaking.
I've been trying to envision my two little embryos snuggling in, clinging to me. I've been thinking about ways I can tell my husband, my parents, his parents...I've been thinking of the day I can take a test and see two lines and not have to doubt it or any of this process anymore.
The other day, I was in a department store, and I passed by the baby section. Usually, I walk as fast as I can to get away from it, but this time, I slowed down to look at a car seat that was on sale. I touched the box, turned it around, stared at it for a long time. Next to the clearance car seats were little, tiny football onesies. All those little clothes. I don't know why I stopped. I don't know what compelled me to linger. Maybe it was the little pang of fleeting hope that told me in its soft, small voice that it's going to be my turn soon. Some months from today, I'll be able to go back to that store and actually buy some of those things...but that moment is not now. And I have to be patient.
That's going to be my next tattoo. I am getting the word "Patience" across my wrist, so I can look at it from time-to-time and remind myself that (sorry for the corny cliche proverb) this too shall pass.
On that note, last year, I had a student named Patience, and a pair of twins named Miracle and Amen. Now I understand why their mothers chose these names.
I don't think I could get away with that, though. Not without my parents punching me in the face. :)
And these thoughts usually get out of control, like spiraling into wondering if I will need donor eggs...if I will do another FET...if I will do a new fresh cycle...if I will go back to using clomid or IUIs...if I'll just stop. What if I just can't get pregnant?
I know I've brought this up before, but when I take a moment and think about this whole situation, I think back to the distinct times as a teenager when I just knew that I'd have a hard time getting pregnant. Don't ask me how I knew...but I knew. It was always my biggest fear, and now I'm living that fear, and sometimes it seems so surreal. I ask myself over and over again why I have to go through this. Why? I'll blame myself. I'll hate myself. And then it will go away.
It is what it is. There's nothing I can do about this. I can't keep flooding my thoughts with the realization that my biggest fear has come true. It's not going to do anything for me in the long run.
Some women would have quit by now. Some would have broken under all I've been through. But I'm not quitting, and I'm not breaking. I'm fragile, sure, but I'm not breaking.
I've been trying to envision my two little embryos snuggling in, clinging to me. I've been thinking about ways I can tell my husband, my parents, his parents...I've been thinking of the day I can take a test and see two lines and not have to doubt it or any of this process anymore.
The other day, I was in a department store, and I passed by the baby section. Usually, I walk as fast as I can to get away from it, but this time, I slowed down to look at a car seat that was on sale. I touched the box, turned it around, stared at it for a long time. Next to the clearance car seats were little, tiny football onesies. All those little clothes. I don't know why I stopped. I don't know what compelled me to linger. Maybe it was the little pang of fleeting hope that told me in its soft, small voice that it's going to be my turn soon. Some months from today, I'll be able to go back to that store and actually buy some of those things...but that moment is not now. And I have to be patient.
That's going to be my next tattoo. I am getting the word "Patience" across my wrist, so I can look at it from time-to-time and remind myself that (sorry for the corny cliche proverb) this too shall pass.
On that note, last year, I had a student named Patience, and a pair of twins named Miracle and Amen. Now I understand why their mothers chose these names.
I don't think I could get away with that, though. Not without my parents punching me in the face. :)
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
1dp6dt: Tired. Very tired.
I can't tell if I am getting sick, or the progesterone is really starting to kick my ass. I am SO tired. I can't even think straight, that's how tired I am. I want to play xbox, but then I won't, because I'm too tired. I want to play online, but then I don't, because I'm too tired. It's really getting annoying.
This morning, at the faculty meeting, I was so tired, I couldn't tell if I was dizzy or just delirious from being so sleepy. My eyes just wanted to close.
And they still do.
B is out late tonight doing work stuff, so I had to give myself the PIO shot. I really hate giving myself that shot. Somehow, I managed to do it without making myself bleed, so that's good. I also think that we've been doing the shots in the wrong place, but whatever.
It's not even 8pm yet.
Can I sleep now?
This morning, at the faculty meeting, I was so tired, I couldn't tell if I was dizzy or just delirious from being so sleepy. My eyes just wanted to close.
And they still do.
B is out late tonight doing work stuff, so I had to give myself the PIO shot. I really hate giving myself that shot. Somehow, I managed to do it without making myself bleed, so that's good. I also think that we've been doing the shots in the wrong place, but whatever.
It's not even 8pm yet.
Can I sleep now?
Monday, January 21, 2013
And then I remember...
Today went over really well. After staying up all night and watching the Ravens game, my husband and I were not happy to have to wake up early in the morning to drive to the hospital. But, we did it, because...well...why wouldn't we? :P
My transfer was at 9:30, but we had to be there at 8:30. When I got there, I was surprised to see other people in the surgery center, since the other two times I came here was on a weekend and a holiday, so it was completely empty aside from the IVF patients, and really, there were only about three or four of us there at a time.
The nurse took me back to a small holding room, where I undressed and got into my hospital gown. I got to curl up under a warmed blanket for about 45 minutes while my husband played on his ipad. My doctor came around right on time and made sure we were who we said we were by checking our photo IDs, birth dates, names, social security number...the whole gambit. After signing our paperwork, he confirmed that my two embryos thawed okay and were both expanded blastocysts. Then, he took me into the transfer room.
It's funny to me that at this point of my journey, I just don't care who sees my business anymore. I climbed up onto the table and everyone was all up between my legs, poking, prodding, pushing on my stomach with the ultrasound machine...and I didn't care. The embryologists came in and checked out my ID and all of that, and then we were on a roll.
The doctor and nurse had a hard time getting a good picture of my uterus on the sonogram machine, probably because I didn't drink enough water beforehand. Last time, I had to pee every five minutes, and this time, I just wasn't into that. I did drink water, and I could see my bladder on the sonogram, but I don't know why they were having such a hard time of things.
Finally, though, they got a good shot of it, and I watched the catheter go in, line up against the uterine lining, and that was that. The embryologist cleared the tube, and I was wheeled back to the holding room to rest for ten minutes. After the ten minutes, I was allowed to go home, where I've been on bed rest.
I've slept most of the day. I don't know if I'm exhausted from the hormones or getting sick, but all I want to do is sleep. From time to time, I remember that I am, technically, pregnant right now. And not only am I pregnant, but I have *two* embryos in there. And it's kind of scary. No. It is very scary.
I am hoping that at least one of them decides to snuggle in and stay a little while. I'm going to take it easy this week, the best I can given the fact that I'm on my feet most of the time as a teacher.
Again, I am going to ask that you please don't ask me if I tested yet, if I am going to test, when I am going to test, or if it worked. Please respect what I am going through and allow me and my husband this time. I will let everyone know when I can. :)
Thank you!
My transfer was at 9:30, but we had to be there at 8:30. When I got there, I was surprised to see other people in the surgery center, since the other two times I came here was on a weekend and a holiday, so it was completely empty aside from the IVF patients, and really, there were only about three or four of us there at a time.
The nurse took me back to a small holding room, where I undressed and got into my hospital gown. I got to curl up under a warmed blanket for about 45 minutes while my husband played on his ipad. My doctor came around right on time and made sure we were who we said we were by checking our photo IDs, birth dates, names, social security number...the whole gambit. After signing our paperwork, he confirmed that my two embryos thawed okay and were both expanded blastocysts. Then, he took me into the transfer room.
It's funny to me that at this point of my journey, I just don't care who sees my business anymore. I climbed up onto the table and everyone was all up between my legs, poking, prodding, pushing on my stomach with the ultrasound machine...and I didn't care. The embryologists came in and checked out my ID and all of that, and then we were on a roll.
The doctor and nurse had a hard time getting a good picture of my uterus on the sonogram machine, probably because I didn't drink enough water beforehand. Last time, I had to pee every five minutes, and this time, I just wasn't into that. I did drink water, and I could see my bladder on the sonogram, but I don't know why they were having such a hard time of things.
Finally, though, they got a good shot of it, and I watched the catheter go in, line up against the uterine lining, and that was that. The embryologist cleared the tube, and I was wheeled back to the holding room to rest for ten minutes. After the ten minutes, I was allowed to go home, where I've been on bed rest.
I've slept most of the day. I don't know if I'm exhausted from the hormones or getting sick, but all I want to do is sleep. From time to time, I remember that I am, technically, pregnant right now. And not only am I pregnant, but I have *two* embryos in there. And it's kind of scary. No. It is very scary.
I am hoping that at least one of them decides to snuggle in and stay a little while. I'm going to take it easy this week, the best I can given the fact that I'm on my feet most of the time as a teacher.
Again, I am going to ask that you please don't ask me if I tested yet, if I am going to test, when I am going to test, or if it worked. Please respect what I am going through and allow me and my husband this time. I will let everyone know when I can. :)
Thank you!
Saturday, January 19, 2013
"Don't lock us in, I need to give my wife a shot."
Ah, the situations you get in while having to take shots every night.
Last night was my husband's office party. I had to drive an hour to pick him up, and then another thirty minutes to the party. I stopped home after work to prepare my shots, which I had to bring with me. I told my husband that we'd have to do them at his work, because there won't be anywhere in a bar for us to do them.
When I got to his workplace, though, they were closing up. So, we hurried into one of the bathrooms to do the shots, but the guy who was locking up just came out of the other bathroom and looked like he was going to lock the doors on us. So, B poked his out of the bathroom and stammered, "Uh...please don't lock us in, I have to give my wife a shot real fast."
Awkwardness ensued. He waited for us, but my husband was all nervous and rushing the shots, and then I stabbed myself with a needle trying to recap it with the wrong cap. Oops. My bad.
The joys of infertility treatment!
One more day until the transfer.
I am becoming increasingly more afraid.
Ugh.
Last night was my husband's office party. I had to drive an hour to pick him up, and then another thirty minutes to the party. I stopped home after work to prepare my shots, which I had to bring with me. I told my husband that we'd have to do them at his work, because there won't be anywhere in a bar for us to do them.
When I got to his workplace, though, they were closing up. So, we hurried into one of the bathrooms to do the shots, but the guy who was locking up just came out of the other bathroom and looked like he was going to lock the doors on us. So, B poked his out of the bathroom and stammered, "Uh...please don't lock us in, I have to give my wife a shot real fast."
Awkwardness ensued. He waited for us, but my husband was all nervous and rushing the shots, and then I stabbed myself with a needle trying to recap it with the wrong cap. Oops. My bad.
The joys of infertility treatment!
One more day until the transfer.
I am becoming increasingly more afraid.
Ugh.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
FET #1: Let the Progesterone Shots Begin!
Tonight, I started my progesterone in oil shots, otherwise known as PIO shots. We've been keeping to the left cheek, since Brandon sucks at giving me shots in my right cheek. TMI, I know. Hahaha.
Anyway, everything went smoothly, but then Brandon yanked the needled out and there was SO MUCH BLOOD. I was like, "What did you do?! YOU INJURED ME!" It was really funny. I had to grab a napkin because the alcohol swab soaked through with blood in like thirty seconds. It stopped, of course, but it was funny when it happened. Brandon looked a bit bewildered and responded with something like, "It can't go perfectly every time!"
Such is the first night of weeks of these shots. Bring it on!
Anyway, everything went smoothly, but then Brandon yanked the needled out and there was SO MUCH BLOOD. I was like, "What did you do?! YOU INJURED ME!" It was really funny. I had to grab a napkin because the alcohol swab soaked through with blood in like thirty seconds. It stopped, of course, but it was funny when it happened. Brandon looked a bit bewildered and responded with something like, "It can't go perfectly every time!"
Such is the first night of weeks of these shots. Bring it on!
Monday, January 14, 2013
FET: Ultrasound and Bloodwork #2
Went in for my second (and last!) appointment for my FET. Everything looked good on the ultrasound. I think the doctor was scolding me for being late, but since I didn't really know what he was saying, I just smile and nodded. Now, as I look back on it, I realize that I must have looked like a complete smartass, but whatever. Hahaha.
My uterus looked great. The lining looked great. He had trouble finding my right ovary again, which leads me to believe it's hiding next to my left ovary again. That jerk ovary.
Anyway. All is good to go for my FET on Monday. I don't have at time yet for it, but I managed to luck out again to have my transfer scheduled on a school holiday, so I don't have to take off.
I continue the estrogen shots every third night, and starting on Wednesday, I start my PIO shots every night. That will continue until I am around 7 weeks pregnant. And I say that with confidence. It's going to work this time.
It is, it is, it is.
My uterus looked great. The lining looked great. He had trouble finding my right ovary again, which leads me to believe it's hiding next to my left ovary again. That jerk ovary.
Anyway. All is good to go for my FET on Monday. I don't have at time yet for it, but I managed to luck out again to have my transfer scheduled on a school holiday, so I don't have to take off.
I continue the estrogen shots every third night, and starting on Wednesday, I start my PIO shots every night. That will continue until I am around 7 weeks pregnant. And I say that with confidence. It's going to work this time.
It is, it is, it is.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Weight Loss
I know I've been popping in from time to time to give you an update on my weight loss. Most of the time, it gets caught up in my other posts, so this one will have a post of its own.
As most of you know, in August, I had my last appointment with my last RE. I was weighing 227 at that time -- the most I've ever weighed. The doctor told me that my egg quality was poor, and that I had to lose weight to improve it. In fact, he told me I had to lose thirty pounds all together. When I have done that, I could call back up to start treatment again.
This was crushing for two reasons: 1) Most of my weight gain came from medicine I was on and hormones taken during fertility treatment, and 2) He was basically telling me that I am at fault for my egg quality for being overweight.
With the encouragement of friends and family, I left this RE and found a new one. I'm so glad I did. But, I didn't do this until a little bit over a month later since that appointment. During that month, I drowned myself in sorrow. Here I am, trying to get pregnant, and I only have myself to blame for not achieving it. Well, according to the doctor, that is. I also started to try and lose weight.
I weighed myself today. Since August, I've lost 22 lbs. I am now down to 205, just five pounds away from my next weight loss milestone.
On one hand, I am proud of myself. On the other hand, I am thinking that most of this weight loss is coming from what I thought was causing it in the first place: My migraine medicine and the dexmethasone I was put on for six months. The migraine meds were beta blockers, which can cause weight gain, and the dexmethasone is a steriod, which, if taken for a prolonged period of time, can cause weight gain. Six months of taking it non-stop is ridiculous in itself...but the weight I put on was also ridiculous.
But, I'm down 22 lbs, and that's what matters right now. I'm healthier, and I want to continue to get healthier. And maybe Murphy's Law will set in and just when I hit my goal of 200 lbs...I'll get pregnant and put on all the weight again...hahahaha.
As most of you know, in August, I had my last appointment with my last RE. I was weighing 227 at that time -- the most I've ever weighed. The doctor told me that my egg quality was poor, and that I had to lose weight to improve it. In fact, he told me I had to lose thirty pounds all together. When I have done that, I could call back up to start treatment again.
This was crushing for two reasons: 1) Most of my weight gain came from medicine I was on and hormones taken during fertility treatment, and 2) He was basically telling me that I am at fault for my egg quality for being overweight.
With the encouragement of friends and family, I left this RE and found a new one. I'm so glad I did. But, I didn't do this until a little bit over a month later since that appointment. During that month, I drowned myself in sorrow. Here I am, trying to get pregnant, and I only have myself to blame for not achieving it. Well, according to the doctor, that is. I also started to try and lose weight.
I weighed myself today. Since August, I've lost 22 lbs. I am now down to 205, just five pounds away from my next weight loss milestone.
On one hand, I am proud of myself. On the other hand, I am thinking that most of this weight loss is coming from what I thought was causing it in the first place: My migraine medicine and the dexmethasone I was put on for six months. The migraine meds were beta blockers, which can cause weight gain, and the dexmethasone is a steriod, which, if taken for a prolonged period of time, can cause weight gain. Six months of taking it non-stop is ridiculous in itself...but the weight I put on was also ridiculous.
But, I'm down 22 lbs, and that's what matters right now. I'm healthier, and I want to continue to get healthier. And maybe Murphy's Law will set in and just when I hit my goal of 200 lbs...I'll get pregnant and put on all the weight again...hahahaha.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Going so slow...
I hated having to take daily injections. But, without them, I feel like time is just not moving. I have to wait every three days to take my shots now, until next week, when I will start with the progesterone shots, which will be every night until either a negative beta, or until around 7-10 weeks gestation. Hopefully the latter, even if my butt is going to be sore and black and blue. It will have to get over it.
I've had some interesting things happen in the last couple of days. One has been very stressful to me, and though I can't talk about it, I will say that it is not what I need right now. The other has been a wonderful development that will hopefully take the sting of the first issue away. I am trying my best to concentrate on the positive, because I need to surround myself in the positive right now, even when it is so easy to fall back into the negative.
One of my former, now-graduated students posted on her facebook today, "When one door closes, another door opens." Not really original, no, but it's true. And I am sincerely hoping that a whole hallway of doors starts to open for me.
I am also surprised at how many people read my blog and are not only cheering me on, but finding inspiration in my journey. I don't know how I'm an inspiration sometime, since I've not had any success, but it makes me feel like I'm not a complete failure in all of this, since I'm managing to help others. I just want to let you girls (and guys!) know that I sincerely appreciate all your kind comments and your support. It means so much to me, especially when I am convinced that all of this is amounting to absolutely nothing.
<3
I've had some interesting things happen in the last couple of days. One has been very stressful to me, and though I can't talk about it, I will say that it is not what I need right now. The other has been a wonderful development that will hopefully take the sting of the first issue away. I am trying my best to concentrate on the positive, because I need to surround myself in the positive right now, even when it is so easy to fall back into the negative.
One of my former, now-graduated students posted on her facebook today, "When one door closes, another door opens." Not really original, no, but it's true. And I am sincerely hoping that a whole hallway of doors starts to open for me.
I am also surprised at how many people read my blog and are not only cheering me on, but finding inspiration in my journey. I don't know how I'm an inspiration sometime, since I've not had any success, but it makes me feel like I'm not a complete failure in all of this, since I'm managing to help others. I just want to let you girls (and guys!) know that I sincerely appreciate all your kind comments and your support. It means so much to me, especially when I am convinced that all of this is amounting to absolutely nothing.
<3
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Feelings
As a disclaimer: I love my best friend "C" with all my heart, and I do not want her to take any of this personally. Not at all. :)
Yesterday, I went on a movie date with my best friend, C, who is now eight months pregnant. I hadn't seen her in a little while, so I was happy to be able to get out and talk to her. I got to see her new house (beautiful!) and her growing tummy. I got to feel the little baby girl move around both before and during the movie. It was the sweetest, most beautiful thing. Such a miracle.
Then, at around one in the morning, I drove back to my mother's house, went upstairs, got into bed and cried. Just for a little while. I cried because that beautiful feeling is not something I can experience right now. I cried because in the two years I've been trying to have a baby, I could have had two babies by now. I cried because I've watched others of my friends get pregnant during this time, and all the while I've been at this longer than they've been. I cried because the idea of this happening naturally is something I both crave, and something I know is just not going to happen. I cried because I don't know what is wrong with me. I cried because I am scared. I am scared because I know that this FET might not work...why should I have faith in it when nothing else has worked so far? How does someone keep having faith in procedures that have continued to fail me?
When C was uncomfortable during the movie and had to get up to walk around, I worried about her, and at the same time, I *craved* wanting to feel that way. I wanted nothing more than to be uncomfortable...too uncomfortable to watch a movie, even. For just a moment, I'd do anything to feel what she is feeling. Anything.
Tonight, B accidentally stabbed me in a nerve when giving me my estrogen shot. I've been sitting on an ice pack since it hurts to sit now. This is as close to being uncomfortable as I am going to get, I guess.
Dear God, please let this be the end of my trying to conceive journey. I am tired...so, so very tired. And I am ready. I'm ready to take this on, if you would just give it to me...I would take it, and I'd be forever grateful for it.
Please.
Yesterday, I went on a movie date with my best friend, C, who is now eight months pregnant. I hadn't seen her in a little while, so I was happy to be able to get out and talk to her. I got to see her new house (beautiful!) and her growing tummy. I got to feel the little baby girl move around both before and during the movie. It was the sweetest, most beautiful thing. Such a miracle.
Then, at around one in the morning, I drove back to my mother's house, went upstairs, got into bed and cried. Just for a little while. I cried because that beautiful feeling is not something I can experience right now. I cried because in the two years I've been trying to have a baby, I could have had two babies by now. I cried because I've watched others of my friends get pregnant during this time, and all the while I've been at this longer than they've been. I cried because the idea of this happening naturally is something I both crave, and something I know is just not going to happen. I cried because I don't know what is wrong with me. I cried because I am scared. I am scared because I know that this FET might not work...why should I have faith in it when nothing else has worked so far? How does someone keep having faith in procedures that have continued to fail me?
When C was uncomfortable during the movie and had to get up to walk around, I worried about her, and at the same time, I *craved* wanting to feel that way. I wanted nothing more than to be uncomfortable...too uncomfortable to watch a movie, even. For just a moment, I'd do anything to feel what she is feeling. Anything.
Tonight, B accidentally stabbed me in a nerve when giving me my estrogen shot. I've been sitting on an ice pack since it hurts to sit now. This is as close to being uncomfortable as I am going to get, I guess.
Dear God, please let this be the end of my trying to conceive journey. I am tired...so, so very tired. And I am ready. I'm ready to take this on, if you would just give it to me...I would take it, and I'd be forever grateful for it.
Please.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Biopsy #2 Complete
I had my second biopsy today around noon. I was super nervous and not looking forward to it at all, since the last one hurt so much. Before I went, I took 1000mg of tylenol, which I'm not sure is healthy or not, but I only had extra strength tablets, and I knew 500mg wasn't going to cut it.
When I got in there, the nurse called me shortly after and asked how I was doing, and I told her I wasn't quite excited about this. She replied, "Yes, it's not a great way to start out the new year, but just keep your end goal in mind." Okay, nurse. I shall do that.
Then, she asked me when my last menstrual period was. I stared at her for a moment (since she just saw me yesterday), and told her that I am currently on my period. Then, she stared at me back and said, "Oh. Huh. You are doing this for your FET, right?" Me: "Yes. I asked Nurse A if I should still come in for the biopsy if I was still on my period, and she said yes." So, the nurse set me up and still had me take a urine pregnancy test...even if they did a blood test yesterday...but whatever.
She got me set up on the table and asked me if I had to go back to work after this. I told her that I did, but I had informed my administrator that I had a biopsy and if I wasn't feeling well, that I'd not come back in. After the last biopsy, I felt crampy and in pain all day, and wasn't very happy about having to go back to work. She agreed that it would probably be best if I went home this time.
So, next I had to wait for my doctor to get done with his prior procedures. Nothing is more uncomfortable than sitting on a table, undressed from the waist down, and waiting for a doctor for ten minutes...especially when it's your time of the month.
Finally, he arrived and asked if I was ready. I told him I was not ready, but let's get this over with. And so, that is what he did. This time was still very painful, but not as painful as the last time. Maybe it's because I took all the tylenol, or maybe it's because I'm already bleeding and my lining isn't as thick...who knows? It still sucked, though, and I still hurt afterward.
The nurse told me to stay laying down for a few minutes, since I was feeling lightheadded, and they both left. As soon as they left, I started to cry. I wasn't crying because I hurt -- though, trust me, I did hurt -- but more because this is so unfair what I have to go through. I tried to keep telling myself, "I am doing this for my baby," but at the same time, I kept saying, "No woman should have to go through this."
When I got myself together, I got dressed. The nurse came back in to check on me and then I head on home. I still hurt, and I'm glad that I knew ahead of time not to go back to work. I was so miserable last time, cramping and feeling miserable, all while having to teach.
I'm going to each lunch and then curl up in bed for a couple of hours, and hopefully when I wake up, it won't hurt as much.
Here's my schedule up until my next appointment:
1/6: Estrogen Shot
1/9: Estrogen Shot
1/12: Estrogen Shot
1/14: Second ultrasound and bloodwork appointment
1/
When I got in there, the nurse called me shortly after and asked how I was doing, and I told her I wasn't quite excited about this. She replied, "Yes, it's not a great way to start out the new year, but just keep your end goal in mind." Okay, nurse. I shall do that.
Then, she asked me when my last menstrual period was. I stared at her for a moment (since she just saw me yesterday), and told her that I am currently on my period. Then, she stared at me back and said, "Oh. Huh. You are doing this for your FET, right?" Me: "Yes. I asked Nurse A if I should still come in for the biopsy if I was still on my period, and she said yes." So, the nurse set me up and still had me take a urine pregnancy test...even if they did a blood test yesterday...but whatever.
She got me set up on the table and asked me if I had to go back to work after this. I told her that I did, but I had informed my administrator that I had a biopsy and if I wasn't feeling well, that I'd not come back in. After the last biopsy, I felt crampy and in pain all day, and wasn't very happy about having to go back to work. She agreed that it would probably be best if I went home this time.
So, next I had to wait for my doctor to get done with his prior procedures. Nothing is more uncomfortable than sitting on a table, undressed from the waist down, and waiting for a doctor for ten minutes...especially when it's your time of the month.
Finally, he arrived and asked if I was ready. I told him I was not ready, but let's get this over with. And so, that is what he did. This time was still very painful, but not as painful as the last time. Maybe it's because I took all the tylenol, or maybe it's because I'm already bleeding and my lining isn't as thick...who knows? It still sucked, though, and I still hurt afterward.
The nurse told me to stay laying down for a few minutes, since I was feeling lightheadded, and they both left. As soon as they left, I started to cry. I wasn't crying because I hurt -- though, trust me, I did hurt -- but more because this is so unfair what I have to go through. I tried to keep telling myself, "I am doing this for my baby," but at the same time, I kept saying, "No woman should have to go through this."
When I got myself together, I got dressed. The nurse came back in to check on me and then I head on home. I still hurt, and I'm glad that I knew ahead of time not to go back to work. I was so miserable last time, cramping and feeling miserable, all while having to teach.
I'm going to each lunch and then curl up in bed for a couple of hours, and hopefully when I wake up, it won't hurt as much.
Here's my schedule up until my next appointment:
1/6: Estrogen Shot
1/9: Estrogen Shot
1/12: Estrogen Shot
1/14: Second ultrasound and bloodwork appointment
1/
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Also...
I just wanted to get this out somewhere, since it's been echoing in my mind since yesterday.
I was sitting in my therapist's office waiting to be seen. I got there pretty early, so I brought a book to read. I get all snugged in with my book, and the three other women in there get to talking about knitting. Then they start talking about their kids -- all of these women are at the office with their children, who are back with other doctors.
So, one of the women starts going on about her moody teenagers, and the other women says that she's not there yet, since her two boys are only seven. So the first mother says, "Wow, twins. How old is your daughter then?" To which the second mother says, "Oh, they are actually triplets. Two boys and one girl." The third mother replies, "Wow, that must be hard."
Now, in my head, I'm thinking to myself, "She probably went through IVF, where boy/boy/girl triplets are commonplace when multiples happen." That's how my brain works. So, for a moment, I think this is sweet. She got her babies.
But then the second mother replied, "It's hard, but it's better than being empty."
And that is when tears came, and I had to leave the waiting room.
No woman should ever know what it feels like to "be empty."
It is a horrible, horrible feeling.
And I remembered right then just how desperately and terribly empty I feel sometimes.
So if, by chance, twins do happen from this transfer, and if I ever get scared about it being hard, I'm going to remember what that woman said: It's hard, but it's better than being empty.
Anything is better than being empty.
I was sitting in my therapist's office waiting to be seen. I got there pretty early, so I brought a book to read. I get all snugged in with my book, and the three other women in there get to talking about knitting. Then they start talking about their kids -- all of these women are at the office with their children, who are back with other doctors.
So, one of the women starts going on about her moody teenagers, and the other women says that she's not there yet, since her two boys are only seven. So the first mother says, "Wow, twins. How old is your daughter then?" To which the second mother says, "Oh, they are actually triplets. Two boys and one girl." The third mother replies, "Wow, that must be hard."
Now, in my head, I'm thinking to myself, "She probably went through IVF, where boy/boy/girl triplets are commonplace when multiples happen." That's how my brain works. So, for a moment, I think this is sweet. She got her babies.
But then the second mother replied, "It's hard, but it's better than being empty."
And that is when tears came, and I had to leave the waiting room.
No woman should ever know what it feels like to "be empty."
It is a horrible, horrible feeling.
And I remembered right then just how desperately and terribly empty I feel sometimes.
So if, by chance, twins do happen from this transfer, and if I ever get scared about it being hard, I'm going to remember what that woman said: It's hard, but it's better than being empty.
Anything is better than being empty.
FET #1: Off We Go!
Today I had my first ultrasound and bloodwork appointment. The good thing about a frozen embryo transfer (FET) is that I will only go in THREE MORE TIMES between now and my transfer on the 21st. This is awesome, since I am so used to being in the doctor's office almost every day when I go through IVF.
I was nervous about the appointment, if only because of other issues going on that I was a bit embarrassed about. Then I realized, this is a RE, and he probably isn't phased by such things, so I made myself get over it. I was worried since as of last night, my new cycle hadn't started yet. I was debating getting another pregnancy test, but I am glad I didn't, since by the time I went to bed, the ugly witch showed and my next cycle finally started.
My ultrasound looked great. Dr. K. said that everything "looks the way it should before starting a frozen cycle." Next up, bloodwork. I got the email from my nurse in the afternoon telling me that the bloodwork looked good too, and I can start my shots tonight.
So, tonight, I will take my first shot of del-Estrogen. I take this every three days, so that's not so bad. It's a butt shot, and that sucks, but whatever. At least it's not every day, right? On the 14th, I'll go back in for another ultrasound to check my lining, and they will decide if I should start the progesterone then.
Here we go again. :) Thank you to all of those who continue to support me on my journey. <3
Oh, I also found out that I seem to be allergic to the tape they use to bandage after a blood draw. Here's what my arm looks like almost ten hours after they put the tape on, and about eight hours since I took it off:
Looks funny, doesn't it? It doesn't itch or anything. It's just bright red. Ha.
I was nervous about the appointment, if only because of other issues going on that I was a bit embarrassed about. Then I realized, this is a RE, and he probably isn't phased by such things, so I made myself get over it. I was worried since as of last night, my new cycle hadn't started yet. I was debating getting another pregnancy test, but I am glad I didn't, since by the time I went to bed, the ugly witch showed and my next cycle finally started.
My ultrasound looked great. Dr. K. said that everything "looks the way it should before starting a frozen cycle." Next up, bloodwork. I got the email from my nurse in the afternoon telling me that the bloodwork looked good too, and I can start my shots tonight.
So, tonight, I will take my first shot of del-Estrogen. I take this every three days, so that's not so bad. It's a butt shot, and that sucks, but whatever. At least it's not every day, right? On the 14th, I'll go back in for another ultrasound to check my lining, and they will decide if I should start the progesterone then.
Here we go again. :) Thank you to all of those who continue to support me on my journey. <3
Oh, I also found out that I seem to be allergic to the tape they use to bandage after a blood draw. Here's what my arm looks like almost ten hours after they put the tape on, and about eight hours since I took it off:
Looks funny, doesn't it? It doesn't itch or anything. It's just bright red. Ha.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)