The stealth FET cycle

WARNING:  The management would like you to know that the following post is VERY long, quite self-absorbed, contains more information that you ever really wanted, and probably shouldn’t be read by anyone, ever.

First of all, I want to issue an apology to all of you for not sharing until now.  After a lot of thought, S and I decided to keep this FET cycle as quiet as we possibly could.  Not because we didn’t want people to know so much, just that we didn’t want to make it into something so big.  The disappointment of our first IVF cycle was so crushing, and I think that was due, in some part, to the fact that it seemed like EVERYONE knew about it.  It was always a topic of conversation that I could never get away from.  And then, when it went all wahoonie-shaped, there were all of the questions…”What happened?”  ”Will you try again?”  ”When will you try again.”  Everytime I had to explain to yet another person…from my co-worker whose wife got pregnant with twins her very first cycle at my clinic to the dental hygenist who cleaned my teeth on the afternoon of that negative beta…another part of me shriveled up and died.  For the past two months, I’ve tried to head off discussions by being vague, “We’ll probably try again in a few weeks.”  ”We’re just taking a bit of a break and considering our options.” I needed space so I could breathe again.

Since the FET cycle is so much less involved, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to reclaim a little privacy and infuse what had been a public process with a little surprise. After all, if it worked, we’d get to tell everyone, “Guess what! We’re pregnant!” and if it didn’t, well, we wouldn’t have to have that same painful conversation over and over because we’d controlled who knew.

The trade-off is that I’d be shutting myself off from all of the support that you provide during any treatment cycle. I’m sort of an all or nothing kind of person and parts of my life overlap too much, so sharing here would run the risk of ending up having to share elsewhere and so the Big Secret Project was born. I hate keeping secrets. I’m bad at it. I WANT to share things with friends. But I also needed space and time. If the FET worked (and since I’m writing this as I go, that’s still in the future at this very moment) I’d get back a little something that infertility took away. Instead of knowing that dozens of people were waiting to find out, I’d get to surprise them, like “normal” people do. And if it didn’t work, well, I’d get to process it a bit on my own first, so that the emotions wouldn’t be quite so raw when we let everyone know.

I hope you can forgive me for keeping it all a secret. I’ve documented everything, because after all, my primary objective with this blog is to provide some other stirrup queen with that one bit of information, anecdotal or otherwise, that she so desperately is searching for.  And let me tell you, it is pretty damn hard to be an infertility blogger when you aren’t blogging about your current cycle. Anyway, here goes my sharing after the fact. And hopefully, after you’ve read through an entire month in one post, there will be incredibly happy news with tomorrow’s beta.  Now, tomorrow is going to be kind of a crazy day for me, so I may not get to update until late, but I promise I’ll share the news, good or bad, as soon as I possibly can.

Our story begins, after the jump.
July 2 – After 51 long days, we finally reach cd1. Much sound and fury signifying… not so much, really. That is, lots of cramps, acne to make a dermatologist start dreaming of new cars, and the first massive salt craving I’ve had since the Great OHSS Gatorade Fest ’07, but not much of anything else.

July 3 – Start birth control pills. That always makes me roll my eyes. I understand why, but it just seems so pointless. I think we’ve pretty well proven that ovulation just isn’t my “thing.” Still no real period. Think heavy spotting.

July 4 – Ok, if being at a picnic hosted by S’s new employer doesn’t open the flood gates, nothing will. I even tempted fate by wearing khaki shorts. Nada.

July 5 – Hey, one nice thing…no nausea from the pills. Still wondering about the 3 day non-period, but I mentioned it to the nurse at today’s baseline sono, and she wasn’t too fussed about it. Of course, I’m only taking the birth control pills for a total of 7 days, which means…. yep, I’ll get another shot at it next week. Oh well, I can’t complain, I had a baseline appointment that didn’t involve drawing blood. In fact, I won’t have my blood taken until the 20th, when I have my next sono! After all the past cycles where it took mad ninja scheduling skills to keep all of the appointments straight, I feel a little strange looking at this calendar with only TWO appointments before the transfer. My ovaries are pretty happy about it though. S gets to start the sub-q lupron shots tonight. 20 units (.2cc) every night until the 20th. I’m not sure if the dose will change at that point or not.

July 6 – Well, the lupron shots are going fine. Sometimes I get a raised, itchy spot at the injection site – looks and feels exactly like a mosquito bite. It’s almost instantaneous, and lasts maybe 15 minutes or so, then it’s gone. I’m working on getting over the fact that when S cleaned up from giving me the first shot last night, he THREW THE LUPRON IN THE TRASH. Fortunately, the vial was back in it’s little box and he just chucked it in the take-out bag from dinner, so it was just things like napkins and “clean” trash. I scoured through the drug information about it not being refrigerated after opening and the only thing I could find was the handwritten note on the label from the pharmacy to refrigerate it after opening and the information in the pamphlet about keeping it below 77 degrees. So, in keeping with my relaxed attitude, I decided it was still ok. I can’t afford to chuck out a $200 vial and at 8pm when I discovered it, it would have been too late to get a new one for the night. I’m probably not going to let S forget that he did that though. At least, not for a little while.

July 7 – You know when ART has become “old hat” when you realize all of the sudden it’s time for your shot, and it almost slipped past you because you aren’t checking the clock constantly. The shots still stress me out, but I’m getting better. I don’t have to go through quite as complicated a relaxation ritual before each one.

July 8 – Same shot, different day.

July 9 – I swear, it feels like I’m not doing anything. One tiny pill, one quick shot. I don’t have any side effects, I don’t have to have a color coded calendar. Hell, I won’t even get an ultrasound for another 11 days. It just feels wrong.

July 10 – Last birth control pill. They tell me I’ll get another period sometime this week, probably. That means that after one of the longer cycles I’ve had in the past two years, I’ll have one of the shortest…just slightly over a week. We’ll see though. I have a famously wonky uterus, y’know. My last post-bcp/lupron period lasted almost up to retrieval and no one was EVER able to explain that one. I do have a mild headache. It sort of peaks and fades, never really going away, never really getting much beyond annoying. Could be the lupron, could be my shoulder/neck (damn that wii…). Who knows.

July 10 part two – I take it back. I have a lupron headache. No ifs, ands, or buts. It’s beyond annoying and rapidly approaching the “I want to lie down in a quiet room with a cold washcloth on my eyes” phase. I think I’m pretty well suppressed, can I have some estrogen now? Ten more days of this. Fuck.

July 11-13 – Ok, that headache seems to have been the exception. The rest of the week has been the on and off mildly annoying kind. And, I’m exceptionally tired. Not sure if that’s the lupron. I’m still feeling very detached from the process right now. I hadn’t realized how the constant RE appointments had made me feel like I was really doing something (even though I really wasn’t doing anything more than I am now. I mean, it’s not like I was actively involved in growing those follicles.)

July 14-17 – First of all, 29 gauge needles feel waaaay different from 28 gauge needles. If you are feeling the stick from your sub-q shots and you are using the 28 gauge, see if you can get your mitts on some 29 gauges. I kid you not, I absolutely can’t feel these. I don’t feel it break the skin, I don’t feel any jostling as S adjusts from his “inserting” grip to his “injecting” grip. Had some very faint spotting on Sunday. Faint like only a fertility obsessed woman with almost two years practice under her belt would see it spotting. Massive headache on Monday, but we went to the gym on Sunday, then helped the in-laws install their washer and dryer at their new house and took down a door for them, so it could be muscular and not hormonal. Oh, and the libido? She is on vacation, much to S’s disappointment. As much as I hate to use the phrase, I’ve been reduced to humoring him in that department, because really, I’d just rather sleep. I’ll be glad when the estrace starts and things come back to normal. So will he.

We’re both being much less certain about this cycle. We talk about the next year in terms of “if” and “maybe” instead of “when.” We’re definitely not taking things for granted this time. After so many tries and misses, we’ve finally learned, for better or worse, how to keep a little distance. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

July 17 – STILL HAVE THIS FUCKING HEADACHE. We’re at about 36 hours now. Nothing is helping. I’ve tried tylenol. I’ve tried caffeine. I’ve tried warm baths. I’ve tried ice packs. I’ve tried excedrin. And for your added enjoyment, this morning we seem to be adding in nausea. Oh, and cramps. That’s right, we’re back to cd1 again. Kill me now. I also think for the past three nights or so, I’ve been having hot flashes in the middle of the night because I’ve been waking up hot and sweaty. I can not wait for Friday’s appointment so I can start taking the estrace.

I wanted to post an addendum to the discussion of 29-gauge needles above. We’ve used them for three nights in a row now and I haven’t had a single itchy shot. Coincidence? Maybe, but I’m definitely not going back to the larger gauge. I’m no doctor, but if you are having problems with the lupron shots being painful or itchy, it might be worth asking for a smaller gauge. My prescription came with 28 gauge needles in the sealed box along with the vial and the pharmacy included a separate bag labelled “LUPRON” of 29-gauge needles, which is how I got to experiment.

I’m definitely having a hard time feeling invested in this cycle. In all the past cycles, every shot, while miserable, had a little twinge of excitement because it brought us that much closer to our goal. Each appointment, even though they required getting up early and battling the nightmare traffic, made me happy because I could see that things were happening in there. This time, the shots are keeping things from happening and there are no appointments. There’s no feeling of teamwork from seeing the nurses a couple of times a week and tracking our progress. I don’t feel much of anything, other than the miserable side effects and, trust me, it’s hard to get very excited about those. Maybe I’ll feel differently after Friday, when we’ll be two weeks away from transfer. I hope I’ll feel differently by transfer as our so very precious embryos are being thawed out. On the one hand, it’s kind of nice to be so detached. At this moment, I can imagine it not working and it doesn’t make me feel like throwing up. But, it makes me sad too. I don’t want to feel detached from this process. I’m already separated from it enough, physically. I WANT there to be some emotional involvement because it feels like that’s all I have left for me in this process.

July 18 – Last night’s shot hurt like mad. I don’t know how that happens. Most nights, I never feel the shot, but twice now, not only have I felt it, but the pain seemed way out of proportion for what he was doing. Tears in the eyes kind of pain. Husband brought home chocolate the next day kind of pain. I don’t get it. I’m {ahem} well padded, so there’s plenty of sub-cutaneous tissue to work with. Maybe we’re just getting the occasional needle that slipped through quality control? Twice in three weeks. It doesn’t bleed. It doesn’t bruise. We make sure the alcohol has dried before he gives the shot. We alternate sides each day and try to make sure not to pick the same spot over and over. Thoughts?

July 19 – Not much going on today. Shot went well. S accidentally squirted almost a whole unit out while getting rid of the air. We went with it. I figure being one unit short in four weeks of shots won’t make that big of a deal. Yep, I’ve officially hit that point of infertility treatments where I no longer feel like if I don’t follow everything to the letter the world will end. In some ways, it’s a nice place to be. Sort of like getting the first scratch on that new car. After that, you can kind of relax and not worry about the occasional coffee spill or the lost french fry. On the other hand, damn it would have been nice NOT to get to this point.

July 20 – Ultrasound and E2 check today! Lining was almost non-existant. Hooray! Ovaries very tiny and quiet. Yippee! Waiting on the E2 number. I have my estrace tablet ready and waiting. Bring on the estrogen! Reminded S last night about today’s appointment and how it would change our “treatment” schedule. First thing he asked? “Does this mean you’ll want to have sex again?” I’m proud to say I didn’t roll my eyes…too much. So, yeah, lupron? Kills the libido. A constant headache will do that to a girl. Had a bit of a frustrating moment in which I had to educate the receptionist at the RE. Let me set the stage…I’m trying to make my appointment for Aug. 1 for my sono check. It’s the appointment to see if my lining is thick enough to start the PIO and to schedule my transfer.
Approach counter
waitwaitwaitwait
“I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Ok!”
waitwaitwaitwait
“Can I help you?”
“I need to schedule a sono for the first.”
“What kind of sono?”
Now, I always think of all sorts of snarky responses to this question. But I remain, as always, a good girl.
“Just a lining check.”
“Of your endo?”
Ummm…this is an RE, right? What other linings do you normally check with a sono?
“uh, yes.”
“Who’s your doctor?”
“Dr. N.”
“August first?”
{sigh} No, December. I like to plan ahead.
“Yes.”
“Dr. N isn’t here that day. Is Dr. D ok?”
“Sure.”
“Ok, it looks like her only appointment is 9:45. Will that be ok?”
Now, that would mean I’d essentially miss at least three hours of work for a ten minute appointment.
“Um. There’s nothing else? Does this have to be done by the doctor? The nurse didn’t say anything about that and in the past it hasn’t been.”
“Oh, no. This is always done by the doctor so they can evaluate.”
Ok…so all, what, seven other times when I saw a nurse for this appointment what was going on then?
“Are you certain?”
“Well, I can check with the nurses and see…”
“Please.”
waitwaitwaitwait
From down the hall I hear “…and I would give the measurement to the doctor to review anyway, so it doesn’t matter who does the sono…”
VINDICATION IS MINE!
(Receptionist returns)”Well, I suppose we can have a nurse do it.”
typetypetype
“Oh, the nurses haven’t filled out the roster that far ahead yet.”
Um, 10 days? Doesn’t strike me as that far ahead, particularly for a practice that has such precise schedules. I scheduled TODAY’S appointment three weeks in advance with no problem. Your office hours are 7:30-6:30, so SOMEONE should be here, right, so just put my name down? Apparently not. Once they’ve cashed that $4000 check….
“So, I’ll just call in later, I guess?”
“Ok. Nothing is booked for then yet, so you should have no trouble.”
“When do you think the roster will be ready so I can call?”
“Any time.”
head meet desk, repeat.

She should be off work by the time they call with my E2 results. I’m going to try again then. Is there some unwritten rule that the front desk staff in an RE’s office have to be the most unsympathetic, least coordinated people around? Because, really, I love my doctor and the nurses. The folks who do the blood draws are hit-or-miss, but many of them aren’t employees of the clinic and come from one of the third-party labs so I don’t really count them. But the front desk staff? Suck to the nth degree. No, I still haven’t forgiven them for the sperm freezing debacle. I may NEVER forgive them for that. Or at least until I feel like I’ve gotten my $300 dollars worth of hate out on them.

July 20 (part 2) – E2 came in at 54.6. I’d have to go back and check, but I think we’re looking for anything below 60. Yay, estrogen! I take one a day for 4 days, then two for 4 days, then three until my next sono on the 1st (of August, in case you weren’t sure {wink}). And the lupron drops down to 10 units now.

July 21-23 – I love estrogen. Really. No headache (unless you count the one I got from working in the hot Texas sun on Sunday). Not much to report. The post-bcp period is fading away, slowly. The lupron shots continue as they have been. I’m STILL trying to schedule that sono for the first and that banging sound you keep hearing is my head meeting the desk every time they tell me to call back because they can’t set up appointments for NEXT FUCKING WEEK.

July 24 – Blech…fever blister. Big, painful, itchy fever blister. I look like someone punched me in the mouth. I doubt it has anything to do with the cycle though and everything to do with working in the yard on Sunday. Too much sun on my face seems to trigger the bastards. Today we increase the estrogen dose to 2 tablets. I think that’s 4mg. I might actually start feeling downright girly on that dose! I’m actually feeling really good these days. I’ve been exhausted the past two nights, but I think that’s due to the hard labor I’ve been doing in the backyard, trying to finish up the patio rather than the FET cycle. I’m not waking up all hot and sweaty in the middle of the night and the headache has gone away, so I think we’ve reached something of a hormonal equilibrium. I’d better enjoy it while it lasts. I am still, for the most part, managing to avoid the all baby all the time obsession of past cycles. I still read the discussion board, but I have nothing to add. At this point, I think the details in my signature just bring any topic down. After all, what ART newbie with a question about her first IUI really wants me with five belly-up IUI cycles and a bust of an IVF cycle to pop her bubble? I’ve browsed a few cloth diaper websites and read the random stroller review. We’ll need to replace my car before too much longer and I’ve been doing my research with an eye towards ease-of-use with car seat(s). Obviously, the fiscally responsible S wants to wait until after we know exactly how many car seats we’d need before giving a car purchase any serious consideration. But, I find that, for the most part, my brain is tending to stay on task more with less distraction from the babybabybabybaby chant that colored previous cycles. Again, I blame this on the fact that I don’t really FEEL like I’m in the middle of a cycle. Although last night, I did get a bit whiny about having to have my shot. I’m just tired of that. Tonight’s shot was, again, one of those painful ones. I don’t know if sometimes he’s just hitting a bad spot on my belly, if I’m tensing muscles I’m not aware of (although I wouldn’t think that would matter with a sub-q shot), or if some days I’m just really sensitive to it. GRRRR. It makes the next shot or two harder because we’re both nervous about them.

July 25 – One more week of Lupron! I finally got my appointment set up for the 1st and, assuming my lining is thick enough, we’ll drop the lupron shot and start with the PIO. Now, I was terrified of the PIO shots the first time, but we never had a single problem with them so this time, I think I’m actually looking forward to them (as much as anyone can look forward to an injection). The end is in sight. Tonight’s shot still wasn’t pain-free. Better than the night before, but not a great one.

July 26 – I am so tired. I woke up at 3am and didn’t get back to sleep until sometime after 5. I doubt it has anything to do with the cycle though and everything to do with the whole house-selling thing. Plus, the metformin is causing my stomach to act up and I haven’t been eating much dinner for about three days. Just feel generally crappy. Six more days to sono. I’m guessing the transfer will be August 6th.

July 27-31 – Not a whole lot to report on. We’re in the final stretch now. I can definitely feel the effect of the estrace. There’s not any one thing I can point to and say, “That’s the estrogen.” but I feel different somehow. The Lupron shots continue, some bad some good. We’ve given up on trying to figure out the difference. Sonogram to check my lining tomorrow morning. Should be starting PIO on Thursday. Have to remember to get the nurse to draw target circles on my butt for S. It makes him feel better to have the circles, and I DEFINITELY want him feeling his best when he’s jabbing that big needle into my asscheek.

August 1 – Sono went well. Lining is 8mm and change. How weird is it to have a midcycle sonogram with no blood draw? I mean, if this were an ivf or injects/iui cycle we’d be watching for ovulation as well as lining today. Strange. Anyway, tonight will be the last lupron shot and the last night of 6mg of estrogen. Tomorrow we start with .5cc (that’s a half-dose) of progesterone in oil and drop the estrogen down to 4mg. I also start taking the tetracycline and the methylprednisolone (I can’t tell you how glad it made me feel to hear the nurse have a hard time pronouncing that one. It ties my tongue up every single time.) tomorrow. Then, on Aug. 4, we go to the full dose of PIO. Transfer is scheduled for noon-ish on the 7th. I have two little sharpie-drawn x’s on my butt so S has a target for the PIO. It makes him feel better and that’s what matters. You don’t want an anxious hubby darting your ass with that needle! Hopefully he remembers how he did it before…otherwise we’ll have to have the whole “You are not harpooning a whale, regardless of what my ass looks like” speech again. I swear, it was like he thought that needle was supposed to make it all the way through to the other side that first night!

Oh, and me and my big mouth. After the sono, I headed to the consultation area to get my instructions, etc. The nurse sat down with a ‘script for my lone valium tablet. I said, “Oh, I already have that. It was included in the prescription for my lupron and all the rest.” I could have had an EXTRA!!! Although, to be honest, the valium didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t feel any calmer, any more relaxed. S didn’t even think I acted differently. Bummer.

I thought I’d start feeling excitement about the process today. Not so much. I’m still feeling like I’m just along for the ride. Now, if I can maintain that through the 2ww, that would be great.

Oh, and that whole missing libido thing I mentioned up there somewhere? Yeah, not really a problem now. Now the problem, apparently, is that the male of the species isn’t quite up to performing more than once, sometimes twice a day. Anyone see that episode of “Rescue Me” where Denis Leary is…um…”dating” his nephew’s teacher and she wants to go again but he says, “Ok, but I’m gonna need a sandwich.” ? Apparently you can offer all of the sandwiches you want and your husband is just going to roll his eyes and mumble something about crazy women jacked on hormones. Is that too much information for my readership? Sorry. I should post a warning like the one on “South Park” at the top of the blog.

August 2 – OUCH! S has temporarily lost his PIO injection mad skillz. I’m sure he’ll get them back, particularly after having to watch me dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands to keep from squirming through the jab-check for blood-inject cycle. I rather tearfully asked him if, when our child hits adolescence and starts that whole, “I hate you.” routine if I can bring up a detailed account of what I put myself through to have said child, he said, “By all means.” So, I’ve already got my guilt card ready. The timing of all of these pills is a bit ridiculous. The RE doesn’t really give very good dosing instructions, just four times a day every 4-6 hours for the tetracycline and four pills at once, one time a day for the medroxyprednisolone. What no one mentioned is that you cannot take anything with iron (iron fortified foods included) within 3 hours of a tetracycline pill. Apparently the iron binds with the medication and prevents any of it from being absorbed into your system. I didn’t learn that until I was googling tetracycline 15 minutes after taking my pre-natal vitamin and tetracycline capsule in one gulp. Oh, and it has to be taken one hour before or two-3 hours after a meal. So, here’s my dosing schedule. It’s designed to avoid having to wake up in the wee hours.
6am – tetracycline (On a normal day, I don’t get up until 7)
9am – breakfast, metformin, medroxyprednisolone (which has to be taken WITH food)
11am – tetracycline
12pm – lunch, metformin
6pm – tetracycline, metformin (I didn’t see any info regarding interactions between these two. If you know of any, don’t tell me. I can’t handle any more.)
9pm – pre-natal vitamin, estrace
10pm – PIO (I don’t get home from Japanese class until 10 on tuesdays and thursdays. My reward is a hershey’s dark chocolate mini and Jon Stewart)
12am – tetracycline (I go to bed at 10:45…S will have to wake me up for this one)

I understand why the tetracycline is prescribed during an IVF cycle. After all, you are getting holes poked through your vaginal wall into your body cavity. Definitely a time for prophylactically preventing bacteria problems (which reminds me, I HAVE to make some more yogurt tonight. Gotta keep the intestinal fauna going.) but I’m not sure I understand the necessity during a FET cycle. I understand the reason behind the medrol, but the only info I can find on the tetracycline is to prevent the risk of infection at retrieval. I’ve also seen that it is given to the husband to lower bacteria that may be in the semen. S never took tetracycline. Our results from our IVF were really good, all things considered, so I’m not complaining. I’m just curious.

Aug. 3-5 – Shots and pills, pills and shots. Sleep, sleep, sleep. I took a three hour nap Saturday afternoon and I seem to be suffering from on and off hot flashes.

Aug. 6 – No more pills! Well, I still have to take the vitamins, the estrace, and the metformin, but those don’t have as many caveats. PIO shots only hurt on the right hip. I also have problems with my right shoulder and arm, and right foot. I wonder if those musculo-skeletal issues are making the shots more painful. I’m contemplating switching to my thighs for some of them. A butt-butt-thigh-thigh rotation might be easier than the current right/left butt alternation we have going on. I’ll have to look into that. I don’t want to do something MORE painful. Tomorrow is the transfer. I feel fairly blasé about it.

Ok, so the clinic just called to confirm my transfer appointment tomorrow. Do they think I might forget? Yeah, it’s going to slip my mind after taking daily shots FOR A MONTH! I’d love to see the stats on how many no-shows they have for an embryo transfer. And wouldn’t you love to hear THAT phone conversation? “Mrs. Jones, are you aware that you had an appointment yesterday for your transfer?” “I did? Oh, dear! I completely forgot. Can I reschedule?” It’s not like an appointment for a manicure. I had to freakin’ take a vacation day, as did S. Appointments that involve $4000, valium, a doctor, a nurse, an embryologist, and a full bladder? A little harder to forget about. To her credit, the receptionist who called to do the confirming had the decency to sound a bit flustered halfway through, “I’m just calling to confirm your transfer tomorrow.” like she hadn’t read the whole appointment block when she dialed the number.

Aug. 7 (and into Aug.8 ) – Transfer day! Yay, I have the entire day off from work. Slept in until 9. Got up and took what I hope will be the last long, hot bath I get to take for a few months. Put on the official infertile uniform…yoga pants, fuzzy socks, ugly panties (I HATE U/S goop), and lightweight, long-sleeved T-shirt because it may be 102 outside, but it’ll be 65 in that exam room. Hello? Mostly naked over here. Got my bottle of water and my single valium. Grabbed S and headed to the clinic. Took the valium in the parking lot with the 6oz of water it would take to guarantee a full bladder (actually, the water probably wasn’t necessary. I think my bladder automatically fills at the thought of the clinic because I can pee minutes before walking in and STILL have to go before they call me back to the exam room.). Check in. Feel sorry for the poor man standing at the receptionists desk by himself when she asks him in a nice, carrying voice, “What are you here for?” Hey lady? What are most of the men here for when they are by themselves? How about using your library voice? Waitwaitwait. Damn, can they make these chairs anymore uncomfortable? Monday night’s PIO didn’t go well. The first time, S got blood when he pulled back on the plunger. Never had that happen before, so he changed the needle and did it again on the other side. I don’t have a lump or a bruise, but it’s been really sore ever since. Makes hard chairs not so fun. Get called back by the embryologist to see the photos of the totcicles. The first two she thawed did great. When they were frozen, they’d been 5AA and 5AB. The 5AA thawed beautifully, and started expanding in a textbook fashion. She downgraded it to a 5BB, which is apparently pretty standard as they suffer some degradation from thawing. The 5AB had a rougher start and you could see some material in the embryo that she said were cells that hadn’t made it, but that it still looked very good and was also starting to expand. That one was downgraded to a 5BC. Since the rest of them were all BC’s when they were frozen, it made sense to go with the two best. After all, she’s the embryologist. She could be showing me photos of soap bubbles for all I can tell. Wait for a few more minutes, feeling my bladder get fuller and fuller. I knew I didn’t need to drink so much water. PA comes to get us, gives me the whole “undress from the waist down but this time don’t empty your bladder” routine. Look, I know routine exists to prevent something from being overlooked. If you don’t do the exact same thing every time, it’s easy to miss a step. But, really, do they think any patient in an infertility clinic can’t figure out the “undress from the waist down” part? And, I just chugged water in the parking lot to fill my bladder. I already know not to empty it. Anyway…pants and panties off, oversized peach paper towel on. Hop up on the table and joke with S that we’re back in the room with the Beaver Marsh poster. Make fun of the goofy looking people in the sonogram machine’s screen saver. Enter nurse who wants to check my bladder with the sono. Can someone explain to me why they use the warmed gel for the dildocam and the cold gel for the bellycam? Seriously, my vajayjay can actually handle the icy cold gel far better than my tummy and when I have a full bladder, you don’t really want to shock me with freezing goop. Bladder is full (could have told you that) and uterus looks good. Nurse leaves. Nurse comes back with Dr. N. I love Dr. N. We chat about how nice it is not to be so miserable this time. She thinks the embryos look fantastic. Time to get down to business. Y’know how they use water to lube up the speculum instead of goo when they actually do a procedure, and MOST of the time, they use warm water to heat up the stainless steel instrument of torture? Nurse used cold water. I mean COLD, penguins would have been upset cold. What the hell? Again, do you really want to shock me like that when you are in range of the full bladder? I hate speculums. Hate them. By the time it and the catheter are in place and nurse is again pressing on said full bladder, my feet are no longer comfortably cradled in the stirrups but pressing against the sharp edges of them with all of my weight. At least that discomfort was a distraction from the rest of it. They call the lab to bring the frosties and the embryologist walks in, opening the door nice and wide. Had anyone come down the hall at that moment, they’d have gotten quite the eyeful. Given that my clinic is currently undergoing some renovations and there are workmen strolling all over the place, I think a little caution in opening exam room doors is called for. Transfer, wait 10 minutes, get offered a bedpan (no thanks, I’ll tough it out), wait 10 minutes, barely let the PA get out of the room before jumping off the bed, grabbing the pants and shoes and racing to the bathroom. Re-enact the reanimation scene from Austin Powers movie. Grab photos of totcicles, make beta appointment (August 16), and go get some lunch. The valium kicked in about 10 minutes into the ride home. I think the last thing I said to S was, “I want to be naked.” Manage to contain that urge until I got IN the house. Strip to bra and panties (I was HOT, people…it’s 102 here), face plant on the bed, and sleep for four hours. Woke up feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so I went to Japanese class, got home at 10 in time for the most painful PIO shot to date. This one felt like you’d expect a needle that big to feel. And, thanks to the four hour nap and the fact that S was on-call and got a phone call at 1am, I was awake until about 5am. Got up at 6 to take our itty bitty kitty to the vet to remove her girl parts, sort of a reverse infertility treatment. Now, I’m barely hanging on at work. MUST NOT NAP UNDER DESK.

T-8 – Crampy. Not bad. Definitely there. Like the faint tremors before the earthquake. My uterus apparently does not enjoy being so unceremoniously invaded and wants to make sure I know it. Either that or it’s this lovely progesterone-induced constipation. Must remember to get colace on the way home.

T-7 – Butt hurts. I’m sorry, but that’s all there is to it. My upper outer quadrants are killing me. I’ve heated. I’ve iced. I’ve massaged. At this point, I’m not so sure I WANT to get a positive beta…that would mean nine more weeks of this. I did ice prior to the shot last night for the first time and it did mean a pain-free injection, so we’ll keep doing that, but this deep tissue bruised sensation? That’s for the birds. Oh, and still on and off not-really-crampy-but-I-don’t-know-how-else-to-describe-it. Full? That’s not quite it. It isn’t even an ache or a pain, just a definite awareness of that little pear shaped and sized organ. I think about what may or may not be going on in there from time to time, usually when I feel that not-crampy sensation but I’m definitely not in the throes of 2ww hysteria (hah! I made a funny! Because hysteria comes from hystera, the Greek word for uterus…. ok, I’ll shut up). I haven’t felt the need to give the embryos nicknames. I didn’t hang the pictures up by my desk. I haven’t spent hours pouring over the pregnancy websites. I do my daily update here and that’s pretty much it. Detachment is an odd thing.

T-6 – Well, I’ve revisited the icing issue and it does seem to help. It seems counter-intuitive to me. I’m injecting something in oil. Oil gets thick and clumpy when it’s cold. Why would I want to drastically drop the temperature of the medium into which I’m introducing the oil and make it more unwieldy? But, if you put an ice pack on your butt until it burns, until it’s bright red and you can’t feel it when you poke your cheek, you will not feel the shot. I actually asked S, “When are you going to do it?” as he was pulling the needle back out. Have the heating pad ready (I personally like to use a buckwheat pillow that I’ve nuked for 2.5 minutes so I can walk around while I hold it on) and heat that frozen ham back up. I was skeptical going in, but I’ll stick with it. I just hope I don’t have to explain to some ER doctor how I got frostbite on my ass in August in Texas. Still no sore boobs, which surprises me. Usually by now, I’m moaning and groaning over the state of the girls. It’ll probably hit me around Monday. I seem to have a cramp. A continuous, low-level cramp. Like my uterus is trying to make a fist. It’s really just irritating as opposed to painful, although I sneezed this morning and it hurt badly for a second.

T-5 – Feeling a little fatigued and on and off crampy. Nothing major. No sore, pointy boobs. Shots going fine since we started icing.

T-4 – More of the same. Just tired and crampy. Seem to get hungry more suddenly.

T-3 – Right boob is a little sore, not sure that isn’t from playing games on the Wii all afternoon though. Very tired, and very crampy. Getting bored with this. {wink} I am starting to get a little antsy, finally. I think, in part, it’s being fueled by this run of feeling completely asymptomatic. I mean, I’m not even really feeling much from the progesterone. I keep going around about whether to post this now, or stick with the original plan and wait until Thursday. I am spending more time on the big babydust-laden discussion board, but mostly I’m making fun of the “We’ve been trying for a month now and I’m not pregnant. Do you think I need to eat more pineapple?” crowd (In my head only! I spare them the snark).

T-2 – So, I’ve been thinking a lot about my lack of excitement/anticipation for this cycle. Why don’t I feel more invested in it? I do believe a significant part of it has to do with the more laid-back nature of a FET. It just didn’t trigger my type-A tendencies, and as a result, it isn’t really on my radar. But, I think more of it has to do with a certain amount of learned pessimism. I think you can only tell a person what an excellent candidate they are for a procedure, how good their chances are, how perfect a response they’ve had only so many times without actually delivering the goods before they stop believing you. The IVF was my last straw. I listened to the fine Dr. N tell me how clomid with an IUI would surely help. Then, how clomid, plus a trigger shot with an IUI would do the trick. Then, how carefully monitored injections and an IUI would DEFINITELY get me pregnant. Then there was the IVF. It HAD to work. I respond so well to the stims. My uterine lining grows nice and thick. S’s count is a little low, but ICSI will take care of that. 18 eggs retrieved! 14 fertilized! We transfered two embryoes with the highest ratings my clinic gives. My didn’t-feel-so-mild mild OHSS, surely that’s a good sign that the hormones are cranking. Textbook response. PCOS patients have the easiest time. Over and over. And each time, nothing. So, why should I get excited about this time? We aren’t even really doing anything different…these embryos are from the IVF cycle. I’m just getting a sort of do-over. And I can’t get excited about a do-over.

Sorry. What a bummer entry. I’m so tired and my right hip is constantly hurting now. I’m dreading the left hip reaching this stage. I WANT to be excited. I WANT to be anticipating the test results. Hell, I’d settle for feeling like I was fighting the urge to pee on a stick, but I walked right past that aisle in Target and didn’t feel a thing. I did pause to consider my inventory of “feminine supplies” in case we stop the PIO shots on Thursday, but I never even thought of the pee sticks until I’d walked on. July marked the second anniversary of the start of our ART journey. September will mark the eigth anniversary of the last time we used any form of birth control. I think I’ve used up all of my pregnancy test anticipation. I suppose part of that is directly related to the fact that we didn’t tell anyone about it. It has really surprised me to see how much of the emotional energy apparently came from outside sources.

Anyway, the symptom watch…
The boobs still don’t hurt. I am incredibly tired all the time. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch with my head in S’s lap during “The Daily Show” so often, I think I’ve had dreams narrated by Jon Stewart. The crampiness continues. I get some breaks from it, but for the most part, it’s always there in the background. The worst thing, and it isn’t a symptom, is the pain in my hip from the shots. I ice, I massage, I heat, I massage, I walk around, I massage, but once you’ve turned your rump roast into ground chuck, there’s only so much you can do. The small, selfish part of me, the one that I shove back into the closet when she sneaks out, points out that if we get a positive on Thursday, I’ll have nine more weeks of shots to endure. We try not to listen to her if we can help it.

T-1-  I’m still so tired I think I could sleep for 48 hours straight.  My boobs are finally starting to be a bit sore, but nowhere near the levels I’ve felt in the past.  My right hip hit a fever pitch of pain, so I’m going to stick to the left for a couple of days to give it a break.  Interestingly enough, we’ve figured out that the center of the ache is below the area S has been giving the shots.  I’m also experiencing some rashy-feeling itchiness since last night all over my butt.  There’s no redness, no bumps…nothing visible, but I definitely feel this prickly, deep itch ALL OVER.  S thinks its from the new cotton panties I bought.  I suspected dry skin, but it isn’t that kind of itch.  So far we’ve tried a coating of calamine lotion (last night) and some cocoa butter this morning to cover both bases. The calamine felt good, but I think that’s because it was cool. Who knows. If it isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll mention it when I’m at the clinic.

Beta is tomorrow. I have no idea when I’ll get the call, but my afternoon is a little crazy…Mom is flying in for a visit, so I’ll be at the airport picking her up, then we’re stopping to grab some dinner before she accompanies me to my Japanese class. Class isn’t over until 9:30, so I’ll be home at 10, then we’ll be busy icing and injecting (hopefully!!!). Don’t go crazy if I don’t update with the beta results until sometime around The Colbert Report!