Inquiring Mind(s) Want to Know!

So because I have no life, and apparently have copious spare time on my hands, I was poking around Ye Olde Fertility Clinic's Website, as I am wont to do this evening. Actually, I can't remember why I was doing it, but I think this time I actually had a reason I was poking around there. But anyway, they have all sorts of useful information, so I poke around there frequently. They recently reworked the website and it's pretty and fun and has new stuff on it all the time, and, well, see the aforementioned statement about my lack of a life and my copious spare time, and you'll see why I spend my time poking around their website. Besides, J (Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire) was recognized for his wondermousness at Ye Olde Fertility Clinic for his hard work and dedication on the website re-design, so I figure I owe it to him to spend countless hours critiquing perusing his handiwork.

ANYWAY, I was poking around and I noticed that they have a new poll up for site visitors to fill out. The poll asks Who do you think should have the final say in the number of embryos transferred back in an IVF cycle? The possible answers are "Doctor" and "Patient".

I had a knee-jerk reaction to what my answer was (what? Me? Opinionated?), of course. And I thought for a little while longer about what other answers there could be and what the other arguments there were, and then... nope, I'm still sticking by my answer. But I want to know your opinion. But then I got to thinking that there are a lot of other relevant questions out there that are somewhat related and I want to know what you think of those questions, too!

The poll is anonymous - so please don't hesitate to fill it out, even if you're not a frequent commenter, and let me know what you think:

Good News, Bad News

The Good News: I have permission to switch my pill to the OrthoCyclen. I'll note that I did this without permission anyway, knowing that it would be fine, but it is nice to know that it's all fine.

The Bad News: My head still hurts like a bitch, which you can tell by the fact that I'm swearing like a sailor (which I rarely do in print, though I usually do in person).

The Good News: Despite my head hurting so much, the nausea is gone. I no longer feel like I have perpetual morning sickness, which is good, because if I have to have morning sickness, I damn well better be getting a baby 9 months later.

The Bad News: I have terrible, awful cramps, which makes no sense, because, hello? That should be over by now. But it's not and I am not amused. In fact, I am quite ticked off at my effed-up body right now. In fact, the pain I've been feeling is quite severe and I am not enjoying it. I've been having visions of getting in for my Lupron evaluation (which isn't for another several weeks, btw, so it's not like it's looming, or anything) and having SuperDoc say, "You are benched, Oh Perky One! Look at those Ginormous Cysts on those seriously un-Perky Ovaries of yours!" But I'm sure it's all in my head, and due largely to the copious amounts of painkillers I've been swallowing for the aforementioned throbbing head and now very crampy ovarian region.

The Good News: Only two more weeks of BCPs.

The Bad News: I start Lupron March 11th. More headaches to come.

The Good News: IVF #2 is looming.

The Bad News: IVF #2 is looming. I am petrified of failing a second time. I know this is ridiculous. I can't not bother starting just because I am petrified of failing. That would be ridiculous. For some reason, though, I was really okay with IVF#1 not working. As hard as any negative cycle is to swallow, I was expecting it and I think I handled it with my characteristic grace and humour. I haven't even gone out and gotten stinking drunk yet (don't think I haven't thought about it). The thought of IVF#2 failing is absolutely petrifying. Please don't just say, "Oh, but this one will work." No one knows that. It either will or it won't, and clearly right now I'm not in my happy, perky place. Maybe I'll be there tomorrow. But right now? I'm not. Right now I need to work through what I'm going to do if it doesn't work (aside from the logistical obviousness of - duh! I'll do IVF #3... my last cycle covered at Ye Olde Fertility Clinic before I return to The Hatchery where I'll have approximately 2 cycles covered under my husband's insurance, good heavens, I hope it doesn't come to that).

The Good News: I'm getting way ahead of myself.

BCPs and Celebrity Status Again

Before my first IVF cycle, I took Ortho Cyclen for about 5 weeks (Maybe longer? I'd have to go back and look at my calendar, but whatever, it was a while). My last two weeks on the pill I cried every day. Multiple times a day. I thought that pretty much sucked and I didn't love it. But you know? I could live with that, especially since I'm only slated to take BCPs for 3 weeks this time. I mean, really, the crying didn't start until week 4 last time, so maybe I'd miss out on side effects all together this time, right??

Think again, Oh Perky One.

Last time the BCP was prescribed by The Hatchery before I knew I'd be switching to Ye Olde Fertility Clinic. But then I switched clinics while I was already on the BCP. No matter, I just stayed on the BCP while we got all my ducks in a row. No proplem, I had plenty since The Hatchery had planned on me being on the pill for at least 5 weeks anyway.

This time SuperDoc prescribed the BCPs. And he ordered Nortrel. No problem. I mean, seriously, what could possibly be the difference, right? Of course right.

Think again, Oh Perky One.

Since starting to take it my migraines have been out of control. Did I mention that birth control pills are actually contraindicated for hemiplegic migraines? And that I'm actually not supposed to be on BCPs at all? And here's another lovely side effect for you: I wake up every single morning completly sick to my stomach. I picked up one of my monsters yesterday and almost dropped her because I thought I was going to throw up, it was that bad.

So... what to do? Just switch pills since I happen to have an extra pack of the Ortho Cyclen laying around? Or ask permission first? SuperDoc is out of town right now, but of course my nurse is around and could talk to a different doctor if need be. What to do, what to do...

In other news, my celebrity status has been revived!

J, Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire, called me yesterday and asked if I would mind being interviewed by a newspaper for a story on eSET. No problem, I said. Anything I can do to help. (But I swear, next time I'm holding out for free cryopreservation for all the good press I've been giving them!).

Er, not that I had anything to freeze last time, so not that I can count on anything to freeze next time...

ANYwhozit. The point, as if I ever had one, is that I got interviewed by a reporter yesterday. She wasn't the crispest cracker in the box, if you catch my drift, and she spent far more time focused on the HOM factor instead of the eSET factor for my tastes, but I think I did a great job bringing her back en pointe, if I do say so myself. She did ask the ever-present question on every reporter's mind: "So after this one, will you be done??"

You know what? I don't know. And I don't have to know that yet. It's a decision that my husband and I will make when we get there, but right now we know that our family isn't complete yet.

And she chose that context to bring up the Octo-mom. In any other context, I'd have understood it. But you know? It felt a bit like an unfair and accusatory comparison. I don't have six kids already. I am not transferring six embryos (au contraire! her story is on eSET! hello?!). My husband and I both have full time jobs. My clinic, the reporter has already acknowledged, has some of the best eSET success rates in the country. How can she possibly compare my choices to those of Ms. Suleman's?

Argh. I cannot begin to understand Ms. Suleman's choices. I am not even trying to judge them except inasmuch as they are reflecting so poorly on the choices of every woman who seeks fertility treatment and every mother of higher order multiples out there. But it is so unfair to compare ME to HER.

Anyway, hopefully the story will turn out to be a very balanced and reasonable story on the value and benefits of eSET. I hope that it will. And when it is published, I'll be sure to let you all know about it, because I'm sure it's bound to be entertaining at the very least. And the best news is - it was a print interview, not a film interview - so no cheesy shots of me walking down a long halway just for the sake of me walking down a long hallway. :)

Parasites Attacking Ovaries?

I had someone contact me recently who came across my original infertility blog who has premature ovarian failure. She just found out that she literally has parasites attacking her ovaries. Has anyone else heard of such a thing or had personal experience with it? If so, could you please either comment here, pointing to your blog, or email me directly? (My email address is in the sidebar, as always, but it's chezperky [at] gmail [dot] com)

I'm also going to ask Mel to post this on the LFCA, but seriously, if any of you have heard anything about this, please do let me know!

Thanks a million!

And Away We Go

I was talking to a friend today who is about to gear up for an FET in hopes of having her second child. Her first child was born 10 days after our babies were born. I started BCPs today gearing up for IVF#2. So if she and I both have successful cycles again, we could again have kids with similar birthdates. Except there's no part of me that believes that's going to happen. In fact even the tiny piece of me that believes it's possible that I could get pregnant this cycle says, "but what are the odds of you carrying a baby to term?" After all, the only reason my friend and I had babies with similar birth dates last time around is because mine were born 2 months premature (right on time for HOMs, of course, but still a few weeks earlier than I would have liked).

My friend and I were talking about our plans for the future with regard to our current children and she said that a lot of it hinged on when she gets pregnant again. And I said, "Well, yeah, but I guess I'm not really counting on that happening for me." And I'm not. I never felt this way the first go-around. The first go-around felt like a vast world of opportunity ahead of me with endless possibilities and no end in sight for the chances for me to get pregnant. This time feels like there are so many limitations on my opportunities and I feel like my ability to accomplish my goal within that limitation is... just not likely to come to fruition.

"But don't you feel like it's different this time anyway? Since you've got kids, there's only so much you're willing to put yourself through anyway? Last time I felt like there was no limit to what I'd go through to achieve a pregnancy, but now I feel like there's only so much I'm willing to commit to to get there," she said.

Not me. The first time around I definitely felt like there was only so much I could go through. This time? If money were no object, I *know* what the payoff is. I *know* what is waiting for me at the other end of the struggle. I *know* what happens at the end of the story. I'd go through anything to get there again. But obviously, money is an object, and there is a limit. I'll know when we've hit the end, and that's a tough pill to swallow.

Speaking of pills, I took my first BCP tonight. Thankfully, I won't be on it as long as I was last time - just one pack this time. 21 days. Last time I was a blubbering mess by week 4. By week 5 I was crying 4 or 5 times a day for no good reason. I am hopeful that only three weeks on the pill will not do this to me.

I picked up all my medications for IVF#2 on Friday. It still feels weird to say that. I know I said a lot that I didn't have high hopes for IVF#1... but going into it, I kind of did. I told a bunch of people privately, even though I was too scared to actually put that out there into the blogosphere that I had high hopes for George I. I don't know that I have such high hopes for George II. The fall from hope really was pretty devastating, just as I'd feared.

But onward and upward, right?

Onward and Upward

Today is Cycle Day 1. So tomorrow I begin BCPs again. Wha-frickin'-hoo! And around and around I go.

I admit that I did have an irrational fear that CD1 wouldn't rear her ugly head after stopping the PIO and that I'd be waiting weeks and weeks before drawing a progesterone level, starting provera, and all that torture. It does happen to some women, but given how I was feeling, it was a completely irrational fear.

Anywhozit, irrational fears be-damned, CD1 is upon me, BCPs start tomorrow, and onward and upward it is. Which I suppose means I'm in the waiting game for IVF #2. Wow. I guess there's a piece of me that never really thought I'd get that far. Well then. Gosh.

Fall from Hope

On December 19th, the first day I started taking BCPs in preparation for my first IVF cycle, I wrote the following:

I know every woman starting an IVF cycle talks about the irony of taking birth control pills in order to get pregnant. I don't think for me that I find it ironic. I'm struck with a profound sense of - change. This feels like a big step toward my new goal. Toward my new hopes of family building.

I fear that the fall from hope will be devastating.

So today I went in for my beta from that very first IVF cycle, knowing full well that my beta would be negative. I brought with me cookies for J (Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire, who reports that he has not yet even had a chance to eat my delicious snickerdoodles!), SuperNurse, and yes, even SuperDoc. The receptionist at the front desk was tickled pink when I left the box of cookies for SuperDoc, by the way. It was pretty adorable. I almost felt badly that I didn't leave any for her, but hopefully the good doctor will share (though rumor has it that he's quite the cookie monster, so who knows!?).

Two hours later, I got a call from SuperDoc himself.

"I'm sorry to say, I don't deserve the cookies. It wasn't the result I was hoping for; unfortunately, your beta was negative."
"Oh, I know that!"
"Really? How'd you know?"
"Please! You can't trust your patients not to pee on sticks! Plus I'm mighty certain my period is going to start any second now."
"Unfortunately, both of those were correct. I already had a cookie and then saw your results and felt guilty about it."
"Are you kidding me? All the more reason you deserve the cookies!"
"Why's that?"
"Because now you're stuck with me! Seriously, you can't get rid of me now!"
"Wow, when you put it that way, I think I'll have to have another cookie..."

It shouldn't bother me, you know? None of this. I've been there, done that. Why, it feels practically anticlimactic. After all, I would have probably passed out from shock if he'd given me any news other than a negative today. But there's something very, very final about the quantitative blood test. There's no going back from there. It isn't so much a fall from hope as it is the end of this chapter - knowing that there really are only two more chapters left before the conclusion to this part of the story.

And so... what now? What's the plan?

In a word, or three? I don't know.

Originally SuperDoc told me that what he'd do is check my progesterone in three weeks, if I hadn't ovulated (which he doesn't anticipate that I would have, he'd put me on provera for 5-7 days to induce a period, start BCPs, and on day 19 start Lupron, etc. etc.

Gah, I said. That gets us into Pesach. No problem, he said, we'll check your progesterone in 4 weeks, provera, etc, etc, we'll be a week after Pesach.

I hate the timing. Hate it. I told him so. I hate waiting that extra week I hate waiting that long. I am not a patient person. I don't want to wait any longer I don't want to do it. A break isn't a bad thing, he said. Yes it is! I countered. I was petty, I'm sure. Irrational, no doubt. I gave him no logical reason why waiting was not an option. He said he'd give my nurse a few options on timing and I could work out the dates with her and see what worked best with me on timing, but if I really wanted what I can do is start BCPs as soon as I get my period. Take BCPs for four weeks (rather than the usual 3), then start Lupron, etc. He said from an ovarian perspective, he had no issue with that and I hadn't hyperstimmed this cycle so he didn't think it would be problematic in any way. SuperNurse and I can review the calendar together and see what works best for my schedule. [Update: Talked to SuperNurse - I can, in fact, start BCPs on CD2. However, the trick to that is that sometimes it takes a while to get a period, so if it takes a few weeks, we'll just have to push it off until after Passover anyway. Bah. Hopefully all these cramps are a good sign that this won't be an issue regardless.]

Which brings me to the protocol issues.

Lupron. Yeah.

He is going to increase my Follistim (not as much as he'd originally planned - my estrogen rise was appropriate for once, once I got to 150IUs... and the accidental 300IUs that one day...). He's also going to increase my Luveris to 50units (up from 37.5). And... the Lupron. He's going to keep the Lupron at the same horribly high dose. I told him the headaches were absolutely unbearable and he said that they should have gotten better once my estrogen rose (they got somewhat better around day 9 or 10 of stims, that's true), and that on higher doses of follistim/luveris, my estrogen rise should happen earlier in the cycle which should mean that the headaches are alleviated sooner in the cycle. I hope he's right.

His logic is this (or something like this... I was juggling a lot when he was talking, so I wasn't really taking notes): he feels that the best option is to get more follicles growing early on, while avoiding a dominant follicle. He wants to use the high dose of Lupron to heavily suppress in order to avoid the dominant follicle (and also avoid hyperstimming), but more Follistim to greater stimulate the ovaries into producing a greater number of follicles. I did ask about not using Lupron and using an antagonist protocol instead, but he was against it for a number of logical reasons. While he has had success with that protocol with other patients, with patients with MY profile, he has better success with a Lupron protocol.

There's a piece of me that wonders if I'm just tying SuperDoc's hands by forcing the eSET issue. But then I think back to my appointment on Dec. 15th with my perinatologist and his dire warnings about me and a twin pregnancy and I realize that it just isn't a possibility. I simply cannot take that risk, even if it means I don't get pregnant again. And it is that reality - the knowledge that it is my own determination to push forward with eSETs that may be my downfall - that humbles me, reminds me that hope is something I may just have to let go of some day.

And at the same time, I know that I am unendingly lucky, for I have smiles and hugs and snuggles every day from the miracles I already have in my life.

Seriously, people!

Will 9:30 tomorrow never come? And why, oh why, did I not make the 6:45 appointment instead? What was I thinking?? (Oh, wait, that's right, my husband has to be at work at 0630, so I couldn't go in at 6:45 regardless... it's HIS fault!) Yes, I totally get that tomorrow's vampire draw isn't going to change anything. But at least it's something to do.

Bah.

In other news, I need a new blog layout. Seriously. And I'm not creative enough to make one. And I've searched for free blogger skins that I could modify and I can't find any that I love. So I need help.

Help?

The Very Definition of Insanity

Do you know the definition of insanity? Doing the same action over and over again, expecting a different result.

Why, then, do I continue to POAS? Is it insanity? Or, as Jody suggests, simply ritual?

Truthfully, though I don't deny that I'm crazy, I don't expect a different result, so I imagine there's simply some comfort in the morning ritual, just as there is in the evening ritual of drawing up the PIO injection. At least I'm doing something.

It certainly won't change tomorrow's beta, that's for sure. But after tomorrow, there won't be anything to do for at least a few weeks. That time is interminable to me. I remember after my miscarriage in 2006 I had to wait a couple of months for my hCG to zero out, and then they still made me wait another month before starting a cycle.* That was absolutely the worst three months of TTC for me, ever.

I suppose I'll use my break this time to make random drop ins at YOFC to check and see if that mobile has been hung yet. AHEM. What do you think, J - has it been hung yet?? Don't think I've forgotten about it! I'll cut off the cookie supply if it doesn't get hung!

Just kidding. I'd never cut off the cookie supply. I'm too nice. Snickerdoodles tomorrow. They're already made.




*Note, there are no scientific studies (that I can find) that support a need for a month off after the beta bottoms out (my OB/GYN supported my theory on this) - most doctors admit that this is purely because they believe it will help a patient emotionally. However, I believe that the 2 months it took my beta to bottom out was a sufficient break. Furthermore, my completely unscientific survey with a sample size of, oh, 6 or so, showed that being forced to take an additional month break without being consulted as to whether this month was emotionally necessary was, in fact, perceived as patronizing and was more emotionally harmful than helpful.

Infertile Enough?

Because Infertile Myrtles aren't neurotic enough, we like to find ridiculous things to obsess over. In my first go-round with fertility treatment, I often thought about the fact that I really just didn't have it all that hard. I have a relatively simple issue to correct - anovulatory PCOS - which does seem correctable with the right combination of gonadotropins and hCG trigger.

My original (evil) OB/GYN ridiculed me - telling me if I just lost weight and took Clomid, I'd ovulate and get pregnant in a jiffy. I should just exercise more and eat less and I'd be pregnant in no time, she told me. I tried that, and I took her five prescribed cycles of Clomid, unmonitored, I might add, which I now believe to have been a dangerous course of treatment, but no pregnancy. I listened to her lectures. I took her berating stares, believing that this was really all my own fault. I discarded the facts of the case, I ignored the truth, which was that I had gained much of this weight not through my own fault but quite suddenly - sixty pounds in five weeks, due to a metabolic shift in my body that was out of my control, and the rest due to years on migraine-controlling medications such as Depakote (known as Depabloat, for a reason). I took upon my shoulders, instead, the guilt and the shame that she placed there, knowing that my simple problem was my own. If only I hadn't done this to myself, I'd be pregnant.

Eventually, though, I realized that I needed more than stern lectures, and exercise pep talks, and cute little white pills for five days a month, and I self-referred to Ye Olde Fertility Clinic, where I met with a wonderful doctor who told me that this wasn't so much my fault, that I had, at least on the surface, a common issue, that would likely be relatively simple to fix, but that Clomid was not my answer any longer. My OB/GYN at the time was pretty pissed at me for self-referring. She, herself, would have had me take one more round of Clomid before referring me over to YOFC. "But no worry! This is such a straightforward case that just the teeniest little dose of the heavy duty drugs and you're going to be pregnant in no time!"

Nearly a year later, a couple dozen vials of blood, an HSG, many ultrasounds, and four IUIs later, I was, indeed pregnant, and in need of an OB. No way was I returning to that doctor. No. Way. So I got a referral from my RE to an OB who was actually even more convenient to me and (as it turned out) someone who a bunch of my friends see, and I was off. Three months later, I miscarried that baby, and I became thoroughly convinced that I had made the absolute right choice in doctors - he handled the situation with care and empathy and concern for my welfare. And back to YOFC I was, only to find my RE on maternity leave - and when she returned to work, she didn't return to the office convenient to my home and work ... but to an office far out of the way for me. So I switched to SuperDoc.

Even then, a piece of me felt that I just wasn't that interesting or complicated a patient. I have this theoretically simple issue. I don't ovulate. I have PCOS. Give the girl some drugs, give her an hCG trigger, a quick intimate moment in a doctor's office in stirrups with an IUI, and bada bing bada boom - pregnancy (theoretically). Not a complicated case. I knew then, and I know now, that I don't suffer many of the indignities of infertility that a lot of my fellow infertiles suffer. I don't have thrombophilia. Er, not exactly anyway (I am borderline on one test... but not quite enough to make anyone worry). I don't have recurrent miscarriages (yet, and I hope never to be able to say that I do). I don't have natural killer cells. I don't have fibroids or stage IV endometriosis (though it's been suggested that I might have very mild endometriosis which does not in any way interfere with my fertility). I have never had uterine, cervical or ovarian cancer. At the time I had a completely unremarkable HSG with patent fallopian tubes. I do not have premature ovarian failure. I was able to do something that many of my fellow stirrup queens had never been able to accomplish - I had been able to get pregnant. And with only the "low tech" IUI, at that! I knew, really, that I had nothing to complain about.

I've written about it before, but for the sake of completeness of history, I'll tell you the story again... I remember sitting in SuperDoc's office at my second consult with him after another 2 IUIs and saying that I knew that compared to most women with infertility, I have it pretty easy. I have carried his answer with me ever since: He looked at me earnestly, paused, and said, "Let's just say you've handled your burden with extraordinary grace."

I shrugged it off at the time, as I am prone to doing. I wasn't, after all, one of the "real" infertiles. I wasn't hard-core yet. I'd never done IVF. I hadn't suffered multiple losses. I'd only been at this baby-making business for about four years. I'd only had six IUIs at that point, for a total of 11 medicated cycles. After all - there were so many out there who had been through so much more.

Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. And two weeks after that, I found out I had HOMs a-brewin'. I felt exposed and vulnerable. And once again, like I wasn't a "real infertile." Why, I was so fertile, I'd gotten knocked up with more than I'd bargained for. WAY more than I'd bargained for.

But it DID start changing my perspective on infertility, quite accidentally. Because being pregnant with HOMs makes you the poster-child for infertility. Suddenly everyone assumes you're an infertile. (Oh I feel so sorry for anyone who is pregnant with spontaneous HOMs - for they must forever be explaining that "No, these were a total surprise!" like it's anyone's business) I began to realize that at any stage of infertility, whether it's someone who's been trying to get pregnant for just one month without success, or someone who has given up trying after months or years of treatment (or anyone in between) - they have a story to tell, and their own burden to bear. People would come to me and say, "I know I haven't been through as much as you, but we've been trying to get pregnant for six months, and..." And I tell these women that they should never believe that they're not "infertile enough" to be legitimate in the infertile world. Each stage of infertility has its own burdens, trials, and tribulations. Each stage has its own challenges. And each set of challenges must be met with its own level of grace and humility. But we have a right to rage against each stage - to express our hurt, our anger, our outrage. We have a right to wonder, "Why me? Why now?"

And now? Now that I've been through IVF and probably failed a cycle, do I feel any more "legitimate" in the world of infertility? No. I still know that I have this pretty simple problem. This problem that should be pretty simple to solve. (Oh, except I do now have that blocked tube on the left side that may be real or may have just been a spasm, so who knows?) I have this problem that should be a simple case of "injections, IUI, bada bing, bada boom, BFP." But nothing is that simple, is it? Most people do IVF because IUI doesn't work for them. I'm doing IVF because IUI worked too well and I can't take that risk again.

I don't regret my infertility as many do. I know there are days that I am on medication when I am not the sweetest, kindest person I could be - and I regret those individual days. But by and large, I have reaped the benefits of infertility far more than I have suffered from it. I have met amazing women, experienced great joy, been introduced to a wealth of knowledge, learned about a plethora of intriguing scientific, ethical and moral issues that many people never even think about. I have become a stronger, healthier and ultimately happier person overall. I have become more sensitive to the needs of others, and recognized that you never know what is going on beneath the surface of another person, and I try to live my life accordingly. I know that the reason I'm going through this again is because I recognize the true gift and blessing of my children - and I know that (for me) I cherish them at least a little bit more for having had the wait (note, I don't mean to imply that fertile myrtles don't cherish their children, I only mean that I, personally, know that I view my children differently because of my experience)

I also know, now, that infertility is never about fault. I know now that infertility is a disease of the reproductive system. And I'll never again let a doctor tell me again that a legitimate disease is my own fault.

And for all those lingering optimists out there...

Just in case you were thinking that just *maybe* 14dpo might *just* be a little too early still and there *might* just still be a miracle waiting... let's just assume that 15 and 16dpo is quite definitive, shall we?

I'm still bringing J and Co. Snickerdoodles on Wednesday (beta day). It's not their fault my body sucks, right?

Reading Between the Lines

Get it? Reading between the lines? Like, if I had two lines and you had to rea... oh forget it, they always say that it's not funny if you have to explain the joke. Onward and upward...

ANYWHOZIT: The point, for those still reading (and I wouldn't blame you if you'd stopped bothering after that lame-assed joke), is that I recognize that I've obscured the facts somewhat in the last few posts. So let me clear it up for those who have emailed me (though, to be fair, most of you HAD seemed to understand where I was going with it all)...

Yes, I have POAS'd. No, there were not two lines. Well, I mean, if you took TWO of the tests and put them together, you'd get two lines, but I doubt that's what any of you meant. Yes, this was a direct violation of my doctor's orders. But it's not like it was going to change the end result. Wednesday's beta will still be whatever Wednesday's beta is going to be. Plus, SuperNurse said I could pee on anything I wanted, so long as I was going to be sane about it (e.g. not call her every five minutes with the latest test results freaking out).

I'm very uncomfortable, both because of the giant lumps on my, ahem, posterior, and because I am extraordinarily crampy. I have little question in my mind that if it weren't for the blasted PIO, I'd be on CD-something right now based on how I'm feeling. Yes, I've tried a heating pad for both pains. No, it's not helping. Thanks for the suggestion. The warm heating pad sure is snuggly, even if it doesn't help. And the cats like it, too (bonus).

And now I get to hang out until Wednesday when I have my beta and can ask what my next steps are. I might call on Monday to schedule an appointment for a consult with SuperDoc, preemptively. I know it'll take a while to get an appointment with him, so I may as well get it on the books. I could always cancel it if (hah!) today's test results were somehow mistaken.

To answer Lori's comments....

I know my clinic did not allow back-to-back cycles. Your body needs a little downtime after all that.

Different clinics have different protocols. And some are satisfied that the month on BCPs = sufficient downtime before starting over. That isn't the same as going straight into another stim cycle, which is what back-to-back IVFs would actually be. A month of BCPs IS actually time off between cycles. I just don't know if that's sufficient for my clinic because in my efforts to be more "go-with-the-flow" than I naturally want to be, I just forgot to ask.

If your beta is negative do you have a consult before the next cycle? My clinic did. You should SO push for a cycle without Lupron.

They don't require a consult between cycles - that's really my call. I don't currently have a consult scheduled, but I might schedule one. I haven't really decided what to do. As for pushing for a cycle without Lupron... to be honest, I'm tired of pushing. I pushed and pushed through my first round of infertility treatment, and I'm really done with that. I have full faith and confidence in my doctor and his expertise. I don't have the emotional energy or the mental capacity left to play back-seat-patient. Certainly, I will ask what he thinks of doing an antagonist protocol instead, but I will not push for it. If he has a reason he doesn't think that's the answer, I'm not going to rock the boat. The headaches from Lupron suck mightily. There's NO question. I would love to be without them. But the fact of the matter is that if the protocol ultimately works and I get to hold a baby in my arms sometime in the next year or two... I won't give two hoots about the headaches (though I reserve the right to complain about them here, while I'm going through the process).

Finally, I know it ain't over 'til it's over, and the fat lady hasn't sung yet (wait, I *did* sing bedtime songs to my kids tonight...), but I know that the reality is that this isn't going anywhere. Many of you have emailed me directly to express your sympathy for this (and boy, will *I* feel stupid if I end up with a positive beta on Wednesday! Hah!), and I do appreciate it. I'm okay, though. I'm sad about the lost time and the lost chance and the fact that only 2 opportunities remain without some seriously creative financing, but I'm really okay with giving this another go. I'm eager, in fact, to keep moving. And like I've said all along - the good news is I love SuperDoc, SuperNurse, M (sonographer extraordinaire), J (Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire)*, and everyone at my clinic. So is it really so bad to have to spend some more time with them?


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*Er, not that J has anything to do with my treatment cycles or anything, because of course he does NOT. But at least I get to barge into his office now and again and drop random boxes of cookies on his desk and harass him. That part is fun for me. :)

Too Late to Say it's Too Early

I will now postulate that at 8dp6dt, aka 14dpo, it is now too late to say it's too early to tell anything.

No news. I don't expect this to change come beta time. Still don't know what the plan is - whether I have to take off a month before rolling in to BCPs or whether the month of BCPs IS my month off. Different clinics have different policies, and I don't know what my clinic's policy is. I do remember back in 2007 when I had my original IVF consult with SuperDoc he had said that I wouldn't be able to do back-to-back IVF cycles, but that could still be that he was referring to the BCP month in between.

I don't love not having a plan.

Frankly, I don't even know how we're going to pay for another set of coinsurances/copays again right now anyway - we just had a major huge crisis in our house which will likely involve digging up our entire yard to fix a broken water pipe to the tune of several thousand dollars, so it may be out of my hands for a while regardless, but I'm hoping not. We'll just have to see.

Anywhozit, we'll just see what happens. Wish I could just stop taking the PIO, but I'd probably get yelled at by SuperNurse on behalf of SuperDoc if I did that before beta day. So stick it out (pun intended), I shall.




I do not like not knowing the plan.

No News

Absolutely nothing to report. Aren't I interesting these days? I know, I'm a bundle of fun.

7dp6dt aka 13dpo.

Whahoo.

Beta Wednesday. I am not expecting good news.

6dp6dt aka 12po

So I'm just saying, if I POAS'd, oh, I don't know, say, today, what are the odds of it showing anything? Nada, right?

Yeah.

I mean, hypothetically speaking.

You know. IF I were to do so...

I'm just sayin'...

Not that I would EVER consider explicitly disregarding my doctor's instructions not to POAS. Not me. No. Never. Nosirree. Uh uh.

Ahem.





Oh, and by the way, I absolutely saw the humor in both SuperNurse's remark about the six embryos and even in SuperDoc's remark about transferring eight. It doesn't come across very well in writing, of course. But I had a big smirk on my face while writing about her smarty-pants remark to me. ;)