The rest of the story

Oh, this hurts. It HURTS. I don’t even know who I’m writing this to … I haven’t posted in so long that I don’t imagine anyone reads anymore, and I imagine almost everyone who did knows at this point.

But maybe I have to tell the story, or it’s like it never happened. And it did happen.

I started to bleed on Saturday, September 7. I was, as you can read in the previous post, absolutely devastated. I spent the rest of the day sobbing in my bed after the boys’ soccer game (which I cried through and hoped people thought I had bad allergies.) I had terrible, scary thoughts. I was hysterical. So much worse than my negatives with IVF #1 – and IVF #1 was awful. 

DH and I agreed by Sunday afternoon – never again. Never, ever again. Dr. R. said there was no point in trying a third time when there was nothing to fix, and I never wanted to do something again that made me feel the way I did that day. Our family was complete.

On Monday the 9th, I went to my blood draw so I could get off all the meds. I stay on them like a good patient until I’m told to get off (mostly because I cannot abide spending all these thousands of dollars and then ignoring instructions.) I had a 7:40 appointment. I cried through my draw.

At around 1, during my school day, I noted a missed call from the clinic. I can read voice mails on my phone, so I peeked quick … “Patricia, we have your bloodwork. Please call when you can.” or something along those lines. And I was so mad. Insult to injury. I have to CALL you now? Just say, “It’s negative” on the voice mail so I can move on. JESUS.

I called. My favorite receptionist answered. “How are you?” she asked. “Terrible,” I answered. “I’m calling to get my negative. Please let’s get this over with.” My favorite nurse came on the phone. “Congratulations … it’s positive!” she said.

What?

“I’m bleeding,” I told her. “I’ve been bleeding since 10 days past transfer, just like last time.” “That can be normal,” she said. “Looks like you’re pregnant … come in Wednesday for a repeat draw.” 

My number was so low at 12dp5dt. 48.5. My progesterone was 9.65. But I took a pregnancy test the next morning. And that line was real. It got darker the next day.

On Wednesday, 14dp5dt, it JUST doubled … to 99.8. My progesterone had fallen to 8.62.

That day the bleeding went from spotting to BLEEDING. Red, bright red, needing-a-constant pad. And I knew, with every beat of my heart, that this wasn’t right. So stressed, so terrified … so desperately, desperately wanting and hopeful. My nurse told me to be “cautiously optimistic” but that things could go either way. I was scheduled for another draw on Monday the 16th.

On Friday, the second line on the test was darker still. Almost as dark as the control line, but not quite.

That weekend, I started passing clots the size of half my palm (sorry, that’s so disgusting, but I don’t know how else to explain it.) I cried every day, as I had since September 7. I got my blood draw and went to work, somehow able to pull it together for my students as I had done every day before.

When I called after school that day, it had gone up again … to 488. My progesterone had now fallen to 5.6.

Let me interject and assure you that I had been on progesterone suppositories (Endometrin) since my egg retrieval on 8/23. Vaginal suppositories don’t show up in the blood, as the progesterone goes right to the uterus rather than through your bloodstream. My nurse said, “Dr. R. is happy with your HCG. That said, this is likely not a healthy pregnancy” (gee, do you think?) “but I’m not giving up and neither are you. Get here by 4 – we’re putting you on twice daily progesterone in oil injections along with the suppositories. I’ve saved 4 babies this way!” 

I didn’t ask how many didn’t make it anyway, though I was thinking it.

PIO injections suck. They hurt. This is news to no one. DH was wonderful about giving them to me, and I did my best not to complain (much). 

Once I got to 488, they said they wouldn’t see me for another week, when I’d be 6w3d and ready for an ultrasound. 

That might have been the longest week in history. The bleeding only got worse, even with the injections. My outer hips/ass swelled up and were so sore and bruised from the injections. I was terrified and miserable … and my not-very-strong-in-the-first-place symptoms continued to fade as the week progressed. 

On Thursday, I saw something on my pad that seemed to resemble a little tiny sac. And the sobbing and hysteria reached new heights. I knew (again) that it was over. On Sunday night, I took another pregnancy test, knowing my HCG had dropped and the second line would have gotten lighter.

It did. In fact, the test was almost negative. Even though I knew better, I was heartbroken (again.)

I took another one the next morning, hoping I’d been wrong. Same almost-negative result.

It was with a heavy heart that I drove to my ultrasound. 

And once again, hope came back. Why? WHY? Dr. R. saw “a gestational sac with a fetus inside.” 

Hardly daring to hope, I said, “But I’m sure it’s not the right size.” 

He said, “Actually, it’s measuring exactly the right size.” 

I said, “I can’t believe this. You must be magic.” He laughed and said, “As far as I’m concerned, all of this is magic.” 

But he was concerned about my ongoing bleeding and my reported much-lighter tests. They drew my blood with a promise I’d have results the next morning. My nurse even told me she’d come into work early so she could call me before I started teaching. The plan? If the numbers were bad, go off all meds. If the number was okay, repeat draw on Wednesday morning. If they were bad after that, again, go off all meds. If they were okay on the repeat draw, schedule another ultrasound for a week later, 7w3d. 

I drove home with new hope.

But I got my bad news at 7:19 the next morning, as I drove the boys to school and myself to work … my HCG had plummeted to 11.6. Pregnancy over, get off all your meds, hopefully the sac will just be absorbed by your body, want to schedule your consult? 

I pulled it together, scheduled the consult, dropped the boys off, cried on my drive along I-88, and managed to teach all day without a hitch.

Every day has been so very hard, not just since last Tuesday, but since the last time I posted. I’m not okay yet, and I wanted so badly to be okay.  I continue to cry every day … less than I did at first, though. May 16 would have been an awesome day. 

Side note: I am STILL BLEEDING. It’s been 3 weeks and 4 days. I assume I’ll run out of iron at some point? Craptastic. All of this is craptastic. Just when I thought nothing could suck more than an IVF negative.

Dearest little baby K, 

I’m sorry I didn’t tell your story here before now. You were real, and you were so incredibly wanted, and I miss you so much. Daddy misses you. Nana and Papa and Grandma and Grandpa and all your aunts and uncles miss you too. If Matt and Ryan had known about you, they would have LOVED.YOU. I love you. I always will. 

xoxo Mama

Spotting started, right on schedule

10dp5dt … just like last time.

I want to tear throats out. I am so angry. I am so.fucking.angry. I hate everyone in the whole world. Everyone. I don’t want my husband’s comfort this time. I don’t want my friends’. I don’t even really want my boys’. 

I want to cease to exist. I want to run away. Leave me alone. Forget I exist. Maybe it will come true.

Nothing to freeze

I cried all afternoon. Into the evening. I got into that negative head space – “these embryos must be as messed up as the others.” In all fairness, I cried at lunchtime too. My new job is HARD. So hard. I’m so effing tired. Today everything sucks. I think I have a hot date with my crapass meditation CD.

Two more home.

Two blastocysts transferred today, one an expanded blast and one an early blast. The (so sweet) embryologist told me they even looked a little better than our last embies. Two more will be cultured until tomorrow for possible freezing (fingers crossed!) They are also early blasts, so hopefully they’ll perform and be frozen with their little ice ice baby sibling.

Blood pregnancy test (aka beta) scheduled for 7:40 on September 9. I’m so swamped with work I suspect the wait will be quicker this time. 

No call

= good news, right?

We did not get a call. I hope this means Wednesday transfer. I guess I’ll hear tomorrow?

Six.

Fertilization report is in.

I had 18 eggs. 11 of those were mature. Of those 11, 6 fertilized and are (please God) healthfully dividing on their merry little way.

I’m sort of bummed, honestly. I did hope that more eggs = more embryos, but we are actually starting out with one fewer than cycle #1. Again, whatever happens will happen, but I am not doing this shit again, and DH agrees. 

Such an awful little experiment, this IVF. Unless it works. Then I bet it’s spectacular. 

Bad timing … I haz it.

Y’all, my body hurts. HURTS. They are not playing when they say “you may return to work 24 hours after retrieval.”

Except that I returned to work 2 hours after retrieval, which is almost the same thing. I couldn’t stand the idea of missing Meet the Teacher … especially if for some Godawful reason our embryos suck and we have to do a 3-day transfer. ‘Cause a 3-day transfer would be Monday, THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. Deep breaths; I cannot even worry about that right now.

Retrieval wasn’t quite as smooth this time. The nurse anesthetist this time was really nasty and couldn’t apparently get over my weight. She diagnosed both DH and I with sleep apnea while we were chatting. Wait, seriously? I get why you’d be worried about the possibility of sleep apnea in the person you’re about to put to sleep, but you can lay off the person you’re NOT treating. Seriously WTF. I think her judgmental attitude just set me up to feel extra anxious. 

In any case, when I woke up, I HURT. There was no giggly chattiness like last time; it was just ow ow ow ow to the nth power. I started to get scared that it wouldn’t be better in time to go back to school, but thanks to my new bestie Toradol, the pain did subside enough for me to get back. 

We got 18 eggs (yay!). No idea how many mature. The bad news was that DH’s sample was so bad that they asked him to produce a second time as they couldn’t even find enough live ones for ICSI (in this case, just the 18 – eeek.) After the second sample (way to get after it, baby!), they let us leave, saying they could find some swimmers this time. Worst case scenario, he has a frozen sample there they could thaw and use.  Praying for a good fert report.

I made it through Meet the Teacher in an appropriately charming manner, fell asleep as DH was driving us home, and then slept on the couch ’til almost 6, and it’s going to be an early bedtime tonight.

You have no idea how badly I wish I didn’t have to go into my classroom this weekend …

I almost had to use my AK … I got to say it was NOT a good day.

If you’ve had the exciting experience of a dildocam u/s, you know that in general, they are pretty quick. Today? No.

It was another morning of me putting bad karma out into the world, today with my laziness and lies to try to cover up my laziness. The domino effect went like this:

1. My plan was to be dressed and ready to go when the boys were, so I could leave shortly after they got on the bus. (Bus supposed to arrive at 8:45; appt. at 9:40 about a half hour away). 

2. This didn’t happen, as I slept in a little too late, and the boys woke up a little too early. I knew I needed to hop in the shower as soon as they got on the bus … which didn’t come until 8:55.

3. This didn’t happen either, as I played on FB for way too long posting first-day-of-school pictures.

4. In fact, by the time I had everything together and I was backing out of the driveway, it was 9:38.

5. In a panic, I decided to call my clinic and act like I drove to the wrong one (there are several locations, and I get seen at both of them depending on the doc’s availability) so I have an excuse for being VERY late.

6. Fail! My fave receptionist said, “Don’t worry, we can scan you here, don’t turn around. You said you were in the parking lot?”

7. Yeah, I did, but I wasn’t, so I didn’t walk in until 9:55, and then I had to make up ANOTHER story about turning around before she told me not to and then getting stuck by 2 trains.

8. So I got the scan. Left ovary went fine, although my fave nurse is much slower than my doctor. 

9. She couldn’t find the right. At all. Despite digging and moving and OW OW OW OW OW OW OW please make it stop. This went on for more than 10 minutes, which is an ETERNITY when that is happening.

10. She drew my blood and tells me to drive to the other clinic (like a half hour away) so they can try to find it. This was no big deal, as it’s very close to work, and it’s … well, where I was supposed to be this morning anyway.

11. I arrived close to 11. Another nurse led me in. She also could not find the ovary to measure the follies on it. She was pushing on my stomach, having me push on my stomach, I was basically going through the ceiling trying not to scream as she rooted around in there for 23 minutes (I timed it w/the clock on the monitor), etc. 

12. She finally measured 6 on the right side but warned that she knew there were more that she couldn’t get to.

13. She told me she thought I probably will trigger tonight as she thought I have “at least 3 mature.” Well, I didn’t get pregnant with *9* mature last time, so I was kind of hoping for more.

14. But damn, she was right … trigger at midnight, retrieval at 11 a.m. Friday. %&%^%^. My e2 is 2800; it peaked at 1790 last time. I’d like to think there are more follies (there are definitely more follies – 10+ on the left and 6+ on the right), but I am almost positive not many are mature. ugh.

Throw everything at the wall, see what sticks

I’ve done 9 days of stims. Most likely, I am done or have only one more to do. (hoping to do one more, obviously, due to my desire for a Saturday retrieval.) This is also more than likely our last fresh IVF. I’ve branched out a little more this time with “tricks” to try and make it work.

For example, I bought this: http://www.amazon.com/Imagery-Meditations-Support-In-Vitro-Fertilization/dp/B000FOT8CC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1377054977&sr=8-1&keywords=ivf+meditation+cd

I can only speak for Track One, which is meant for the stim part of IVF, but it’s okay. Mostly I fall asleep, and make fun of her when she’s like, “Get inside your inner world. Look at your ovaries. They are so bumpy.”

Then there’s the acupuncture … eh, not feeling it so far (today was my first session).

I am not a granola hippie by any means. I dislike nature and (clearly) embrace modern medicine. I do see a chiropractor, though (love). And an acupuncturist comes in once a week to my chiro’s office and does sessions for only $20 (discount for patients.) So I decided to give it a go.

Okay, well, even though my fave front desk girl told me people come in for fertility all the time, my flaky acupuncturist doesn’t even know what happens in an IVF cycle, what the hell! So.

1. Even though I have no fear of needles, these did not feel like nothing as I was hoping. They hurt like little quick bee stings, no bueno.

2. I stupidly wore a thong that was too tight for my enormous ass, so I had to lie there the whole time feeling like my underpants were trying to lengthen my crack. (sorry tmi. Whatever, I talk about giant needles going into my vagina to poke holes in my ovaries; this is probably mild in comparison.) Yes, I know this is no one’s fault but my own, but it detracted from the experience.

3. I nodded off twice, then was rudely awakened by this needle in my hand that would get dislodged when my hand would drop.

4. She had to stick one of the needles directly into one of the enormous bruises on my stomach (more on that in a moment).

5. Did I mention that THE ACUPUNCTURIST HAS NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENS IN IVF? Ack, I’m totally wasting my time, aren’t I? booo.

I’m going again tomorrow (she was filling in as my chiro today, so she gave me an extra sesh since she was already there) and next Wednesday. At least I can say I (half-assedly) tried.

As for the bruising, stims have been rough on me this time. After the last cycle, when people asked about IVF and nervously inquired after the injections, I smoothly assured them the shots were no big deal – “IVF is terrible because of the mental piece,” I’d say. “The drugs are nothing!”

Karma heard that. So this time, the Menopur has burned consistently worse each day. Of the three injections I give myself per night, I have hit at least one blood vessel, leading to gushing and huge bruises EVERY.SINGLE.NIGHT. The Menopur REALLY hates me and has been leaking out after I remove my bloody needle, so then I freak and restab myself with the same needle (never do that), leading to more blood and probably NO more medicine.

If I didn’t know no one on the Internet wants to see my fat roll, I’d photograph my stomach and let you guys gape in awe at the purple, blue, green, and straight-up black marks that cover my more-than-ample abdomen … along with my numerous sexy track marks, of course. Good times all up in here!

I don’t know if I’ll make it, but watch how good I’ll fake it …

ahahahahahaha so earlier, I was like, “Dang, I am responding so well to the meds this time, without any of the emotional side effects of last time. I’m already 7 days in!”

Then I went to Staples to buy composition books for my whole class b/c my teaching partner promised me they were 10 cents apiece. Well, they were, but only the first 3. So I snapped, “I have to buy these for 27 kids! This is RIDICULOUS!,” burst out crying, left my cart in the middle of the line, grabbed the boys, and marched out … then the clerk had to chase after me outside b/c I left my freaking WALLET in the cart.

So. Um. Beware the mood swings. Also I have perma-banned myself from that Staples and will leave in fear that some of my new students’ parents saw my outburst (the place was packed, of COURSE.)

Anyway, follie check #2 was okay (I think? who even knows, really). I have 8 on the left and 6 on the right. Lead is 14 something on the left, 12 something on the right. I am stalking my IVF portal, but there is no info from today there yet, WTH! My lining is over 14, which I was like, “Um, that’s really thick,” kinda worried, and the doctor said, “Better too thick than too thin, believe me.”

Wednesday will be the deciding factor as to whether I have retrieval Friday or Saturday. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send Saturday retrieval vibes, as I have my first day of work Friday and would miss “Meet the Teacher” if I’m in retrieval. It’s my first year in second grade, and I want to start off with a good first impression!

I’ve been a little crampy the last 2-3 days. Intrigued to see my E2, though my follies are nothing to write home about. (we’re okay. I’m okay.)