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.
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