I’m reminded of the recent Scrubs episode (love that show!) where the characters pondered whether everything happens for a reason.  You see, yesterday, the day I was so sure would be my insemination, I came down with the worst flu I’ve had in a while.  101 degree fever, can’t keep anything down, the works.  If my ovaries had produced a viable egg, I would’ve been lying on the doctor’s table trying not to barf and who knows how my fever would’ve affected conception.  I had no idea I was getting so sick just the day before when I had the ultrasound.  But now I guess it’s good that everything was cancelled.   I’d still rather not have the flu though.  And I had a flu shot!!  So not fair.  I haven’t been this sick in years.

And to add to the stress?  The in-laws are coming saturday!  And the house?  Seriously?  DISASTER.  And all I can do is crawl into bed. 

Whaaaa??

Today was ultrasound day.  Sigh.  Did I tell you I shouldn’t worry about working tomorrow even though it seemed like a probable insem day?  Did I tell you I can never predict my stupid cycles??  Yeah.  Go me.  I’ve been feeling a ton of pain on my left, and was thinking it might not be good, but was hoping it just meant tons of eggs.  Um, no.  It means one large cooked follicle.  4.5cm.  Too big to have a viable egg.  In fact, the doctor says it’s a cyst again, and didn’t reassure me that it would go away on it’s own.  He did a hcg/trigger shot to hopefully help it burst.  There will be no insemination this month.  No Christmas baby.  No bfp’s on easter.  Not that I’d been daydreaming or anything, right?  So I sit here in pain, a bit weepy, feeling sorry for myself.  Oh well.  There’s always next month right?

Ow!

I forgot how nauseas clomid makes me.  blech!  and I forgot how much the menopur stings going in.  I suspect it’s actually the saline you mix it with, but who knows.  Makes me feel guilty for all the belly shots I give at work.  Speaking of which…  things there are going bad to worse.  I got assigned to be the ongoing nurse for a ’difficult’ patient (to say the least).  This is so the patient has some continuity in care which is truly in their best interest.  On the other hand, one of the things I love about my job is the spontaneity, the utter difference from one day to the next.  I love that no matter how bad the day/week, you come back and roll the dice for entirely new patients meaning an entirely new bad day/week!  Ha ha, but truly, in nursing NO two days are the same.  But now if I have this same patient every day I go in, and probably all the patients roomed around this one for convenience, then I kinda dread even more going in.  Now no matter how bad the day/week, I can come back for more of the same!!  Yay! 

Also, a lot of the mentors on our unit are leaving.  Pretty much everyone with seniority.  The ones I go to with questions every day I work.  I can’t imagine one year in suddenly being ‘charge nurse’ every day.  I can’t imagine being the one people come to with questions!

I don’t know how this cycle will work out.  I stupidly traded a work day wednesday for monday, so now I work wednesday which is the day after the ultrasound so it *could* be insem day leading to the same old conflicts- call in sick?  Try to trade last minute?  I’m hoping the insem’s not actually wednesday though, because S will be out of town wednesday and thursday for a regional business meeting.  And being insem’d without my other half would weird me out and most likely there would be crying involved.  But I’ve learned in the last few months not to second guess anything or try predict the process.  Every time I’ve tried I’ve ended up horribly wrong.  So I’ll just go with the flow.  Ultrasound Tuesday.  Hope for a Saturday insem again.  We’ll see!

starting again…

Well believe me, I would have written before now if there had been a bfp.  I went for the beta on the 12th and sure enough, it confirmed what dozens of hpt’s had already told me- not pregnant.  I’m not devastated.  It was just our first try, so optimism still reigns.  Although to be honest, it did take me an hour and a half to return the phone call from the doctor’s office and hear the actual test results read aloud.  Since the bfn, I took full advantage of my non-pregnant status and ate burger k.ing and drank lots of wine.  Heh.  I got to stop the dreaded suppositories and AF visited exactly 72 hours after the last one.  Off to the doctor I went on Monday for another beginning-cycle u/s.  Everything looks okay.  Everything did not FEEL okay however, due to the new employee who I think was doing one of her first u/s ever because it HURT!!!  Zowie!!  The protocol for this month surprises me.  Last month after my non-response to clomid the Dr. said this month we’d do 100mg/day.  But now he says let’s just do 50mg/day again (cd 4-8) with Menopur 75u injections cd 9 & 11 and then u/s day 12.  Huh.  So basically we’ll throw in the shots earlier since we know you don’t respond to 50 of clomid?  So then why do clomid at all?  Or, why not try 100 of clomid w/ no shots?  Cuz I got to tell you, clomid is $15/month and the shots are $60/vial.  So we’re talking $15/mo for clomid vs. $120 for two shots.  I’d much rather double the clomid and ditch the shots.  Not to mention the ow factor of sticking needles in my own belly.  Yes, I know I stick needles in body parts for a living, but it doesn’t hurt when it’s someone else!    I go for the ultrasound on cd 12- march 27th- to check the number of follicles.  This raises another question.  I’ve been charting for nearly a year, and can say with some reliability that I ovulate on cycle day 18ish.  Why oh why do doctors check so early and then force the issue if you’re not ready to pop by cd 14??  Last cycle I got menopur shots since I had a baby follicle on cd 14.  Well sure, that’s just where it should be on my normal cycle.  And this month he wants to check me on cd 12.  Seems early to me. 

In other news, we took in the young devil-kitten to be spayed today.  This is not my favorite animal of the menagerie, but S loves her, so what the heck.  Due to work schedules I was put in charge of picking up said devil-kitten from the vet.  I’m sitting on the cushioned benches waiting for them to bring out the kitty to put in the carrier.  I wait…  and wait…  finally a harried looking vet comes out and says, ‘just give us the carrier, it will be easier’.  He grabs the carrier and disappears.  And I wait…  and wait…  This is unusual.  With our many number of pets, we’ve been through this many times, and I can tell you they always bring the pet out.  Finally the harried vet reappears and hands me the carrier.  “well, she’s not happy with us, hopefully she’ll be happier with you.  Here’s her collar, we can’t get it on her.”  Huh.  How embarrassing!  Our devil cat raised such a riot that the vets could barely get her in the carrier and couldn’t get her collar on at all!  I slunk off in shame with the howling, shaking carrier firmly in my grip.  We drove home, and with much apprehension I released the devil from her confines, after which she proceeded to rub all over me purring loudly and then promptly ate lunch.  Huh.  Go figure.  I think I’ll still sleep with one eye open.  You just never know.

10dpiui

 

I wish I could jump for joy and post nothing but smiley faces.  But I don’t think this cycle worked.  After peeing on about $30 worth of HPT’s this morning and getting nothing but BFN’s, I’m even more sure.  Yes, it’s early, I know.  I know.

 

Here’s what I’m feeling:

·        so tired I can’t pass a bed without taking a two hour nap.  Seriously.

·        crampy, like AF will start tomorrow.  As it’s actually scheduled to.

Here’s what I’m not feeling:

·        sore boobs.  At all.  They’re never not sore!

·        nauseas.

·        um, pregnant.

 

So there you have it.  Stay tuned for more.  Actual Beta test is scheduled for March 12th.

 

In other news, I lost my keys.  Poof.  Gone.  And the maddening thing is I lost them after driving myself home from the store, getting stuck in the dam*ed snowy driveway, shoveling myself out, and letting myself into the house.  So the keys are here somewhere.  It’s not like I lost them out and about.  But neither S nor I can find them anywhere.  So I had spares made but it’s still bugging me.  Where are they?!?!  :::Off to shake Simon the Pugly to see if he jingles:::

5dpiui

So here I am still in the agonizing tww.  If I’m honest with myself I have to admit I’m not feeling any different.  Just muddling through work as always.  I know it’s too early to feel anything, and too early to test, but it’s so frustrating just waiting!! 

In the meantime, work is hellish as always.  Lots of people are quitting and I have to wonder if it’s time for me to exit as well.  Why be the last man on a sinking ship, y’know? 

Feeling kind of down I guess.  Maybe it’s the progesterone.  Maybe it’s lack of sleep.  Maybe it’s the winter duldrums.  Who knows.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better…

and p.s.- why does our large dog keep peeing on our small dog?  I mean really.  Does she look like a lampost?  Is it a dominance thing?  What??

2dpiui

It’s done.  I feel like I’ve jumped on a roller coaster and I’m strapped in waiting for the next heart-stopping turn.  After my painful HCG shot on Friday (damn that made my butt SORE!), we went in on Saturday for the IUI.  It was a weird sort of experience.  There were five of us in the waiting-room-decorated-like-a-living-room-dining-table-fireplace-and-all.  One married couple with a very talkative (nervous?) husband, one lady covered in welts from injections, and S and I.  It was weird to talk and joke and laugh about meds, side effects, anxious waiting, with complete strangers.  We didn’t know each other, yet each knew something about what the others were going through.  S and I were called in second.  The sperm sample had 12 million motile sperm.  While not the best number I’ve heard, it’s not the worst either.  The only real pain was getting through the cervix.  In the spermies went, and then I had to lie with my hips in the air for 20 minutes holding S’s hand in silence.  Although the doctor said I had no restrictions after that, I spent the rest of the day in bed willing the spermies to swim baby swim!!   

Now I’m in the dreaded tww.  Omg it’s horrible.  I want to know now!!  I can’t help but feel somewhat pessimistic.  The only people that seem to get lucky on the first try are fifteen year olds on prom night.  And yet, there’s the chance.  I can’t help but hope.  Because it would be so wonderful to have it happen right away.  Before the excitement and joy and anticipation and wonderment that we feel at each appointment and each new step becomes routine and mundane and frustrating.  Before we know the heartache of false starts.  Before we are burned by pessimism and failures.  There is not much to do now but wait.  And pee on OPK’s every day to watch the HCG trigger shot fade out of my system (yes, I’m a POAS ho and not ashamed to admit it).  And put the progesterone suppositories in every evening (hate these!).  And count down the days to Beta testing on March 12th.  And hope.  Yes, hope. 

and we’re off!

I made it to the ultrasound today sneaking off during my lunch hour with hopefully minimal people noticing.  And?  My one baby egg has now changed into two 25mm follicles!  Yippee!  I may not respond to Clomid but apparently I do respond to Menopur.  One trigger shot in the butt later and I was back at work.  Tomorrow is the big day.  Insemination one.  I’m simultaneously scared that it won’t work, and scared that it will. 

Clomid

Daily headaches?  Check.

Nausea for five days?  Check.

Night sweats?  Check.

Multiple big juicy eggs ready to ovulate?  Uh…  no. 

That’s right, apparently I didn’t respond to the Clomid.  The above mentioned side effects apparently do not signal that the medication is actually working.  You can have all of the bad and none of the good.  I took 50mg for five days, cycle days 3-7.  I peed on opk’s from day 10 on (all negative).  Ah yes, you should have seen me sneaking into the employee bathroom with my clear blue easy test in my pocket to sit on the can for the obligatory three minutes before wrapping the evidence in about fifty paper towels to avoid coworker detection.  Oh I was slick.  Yessiree.  On day 13 (Monday) I went in for an ultrasound, all eager and ready to go.  I was so sure the Dr. would trigger me that day and insem the next that I begged, borrowed, and pleaded to get my schedule changed so I would be off Tuesday and work Friday instead.  Ha!!  Perhaps that is where the jinx started.  The ultrasound showed one follicle.  One.  ONE!  And it’s only 12mm.  A baby egg, pardon the pun.  After telling me that next cycle we’ll double the clomid to 100mg/day, he proceeds to describe how we’ll attempt to rescue this cycle.  Hmm…  I mean, if there’s not much chance for this cycle do I want to spend the time/money/mental torture on it?  But of course I’m incapable of saying no.  I’ve already named the little 12mm follicle.  So the new plan is to inject the urine of menopausal women (Menopur, 75Iu) into my abdomen twice this week, and return for another ultrasound Friday to see if the one follicle has grown and is ready to trigger.  Nevermind that you would think that hormones of women who no longer ovulate wouldn’t be what you would want to put into your abdomen when trying to improve ovulation, nor would you want to inject urine of anybody for that matter.  And nevermind that I spent hours begging people to switch their schedules so I would have Tuesday off and work Friday so now I can’t make the ultrasound.  Last night I took the first tiny vial of saline, drew it up, injected it into the tiny vial of powder, drew out the mixture, swabbed my ample belly with an alcohol swab, jabbed in the needle, pushed in the med (omg it BURNS!!!), and then proceeded to freak out.  Trying to balance my work schedule with the seemingly endless medical appointments that are last minute and change with no notice is really stressing me out.  And I can’t take time off because we need the money for the darn conceiving!  The Menopur alone was $130.  For two small doses!  Let alone the surgery copay that I’ll be getting, and the actual IUI cost, and the $600/month for the sperm.  Yeah.  Stressed.  For now the plan is to try to bolt over to the doctor’s office on Friday during my lunch for the ultrasound hoping that no one notices.  It’s really hard in nursing to get breaks at all, so I don’t know how it’s going to work if it works at all.  But it’s either that or call out sick for the day.  But I used up my sick leave for the surgery, and besides there’s a new policy that you can’t be out more than five times in a year or you get written up/fired and I’m sure I’ll need other times more than this.  Did I mention I’m stressed? 

At least I got to stay at home today and watch the Anna Nicole trial on Court.tv.  Is that judge out of control or what?!  Classic.

And so it begins…

Tonight I start clomid!!  Weeeee!!  I can’t believe it!  The ultrasound went well this morning.  One ovary is 3cm x1cm and the other is still a bit swollen at 3cm x2cm.  The plan is to take clomid 50mg for five days starting tonight and then daily opk’s beginning day 10.  Then I go in the day after a positive result, or else day 13 for an ultrasound, whichever is first.  Tonight I’m frantically researching the crap out of dozens of donor-dads- you should see the pile of paperwork surrounding my desk.  Unbelievable.

 

Can I tell you a secret?  I’m freaking out.  I don’t feel prepared for this to actually happen.  I often eat like crap.  I mean handfuls of toxic-food-coloring jelly beans in one sitting.  And fast food.  Not enough veggies or fruits or fiber.  And I don’t exercise, uh, ever…  :::sheepish look:::  So before even being inseminated, before even the possibility of being close to pregnant, I’m beating myself up feeling like a failure as a mom.  Providing less than a perfect environment to grow my babybean.  And there’s more.  I like sleep.  I mean really like it.  And I like hours of uninterrupted time on my computer to play mindless video games and surf blogs.  I like sleeping in with S on Sunday mornings and spending the afternoons reading in bed with the dogs at our feet.  I like to drink the occasional vodka cranberry while watching grey’s anatomy.  I guess the enormity of how much our lives could change is hitting me.  And I’m freaking out.  I don’t want to seem like suddenly I don’t want to have a family, oh I do.  I do.  And I don’t want to jinx it by causing fate to decide I don’t want it enough.  I just, I don’t know, I’m freaking out.  And it surprises me.