……and even more from Tricycle:

The Virtues of Patience

In daily life we experience suffering more often than pleasure. If we are patient, in the sense of taking suffering voluntarily upon ourselves, even if we are not capable of doing this physically, then we will not lose our capacity for judgment. We should remember that if a situation cannot be changed, there is no point in worrying about it. If it can be changed, then there is no need to worry about it either, we should simply go about changing it.

–His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, from The Dalai Lama’s Little Book of Inner Peace (Element)

As of yesterday (Day 3) there were still 3 grade 1’s and the other 11 were all grade 2’s. So….they’re still hanging in there. They don’t check them again until transfer, but they will be calling me with my transfer schedule. So…….there’s that for progress.

And yet for some reason, I stomped around yesterday like a bear with a sore tooth. I just can’t get it in gear and get prepped for my 3-day couch-fest. The house is a disaster, the laundry (clean and dirty) is all over the place – I’m seriously going to buy some more panties on the way home because I don’t want to be stuck without clean underwear. What did I do to prep for the upcoming festivities? I sat on the heating pad and played Fallout 3 (XBox game) all day. Perhaps because my butt hurts and I needed a mental health moment. I emerged for Chinese take-out, restroom breaks and to yell at D. It was almost like I was practicing for after the transfer. Well, hopefully that’ll take place without the yelling. Although by day 3, who knows?

So…….here I am. Guardedly optimistic. All this good news just means that I’ve landed in the good statistics pool, but it’s still a bell curve. “Looking good” doesn’t mean “everything will be fine”, as all of us know. I’m thinking about all of you out there, fighting whatever battles you’re in at the moment – this road is just so hard. So……group hug, everyone.

Good luck and good wishes to us all.

Another foot picture!!

* I just thought of something. I didn’t call my clinic ONCE to check on this donor’s progress. Not once. I figured if there was a problem, they’d call. That wasn’t planned. Maybe I was just so sick of trying to control anything at all that I totally chucked the reins as soon as I could. Hm. That could be contributing to my feeling of Zen about all this transfer. Of course, then I’ll be a screaming bitch afterwards. So it goes….*

And the good news trend continues with way above average numbers. 11 4-cell grade 1 embryos, 2 grade 2 4-cell embryos and one grade something-or-other 2 cell embryo (which the embryologist says really doesn’t matter in the general scheme of things, she thinks we’re pretty much covered). 5 day transfer. Which will land, oddly enough, on my mother’s birthday. Freakish coincidence?

Hm. I’m feeling weirdly fertile.

Damn. I’m still pretty detached, sort of wondering when the fugue will break. It will at some point, I’m sure – I guess it doesn’t really matter when reality crashes through. ‘Cause it will eventually.

D’s stomping around the kitchen singing to the dogs, reciting his favorite movie lines: “It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again” (Silence of the Lambs), “I swear my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair” (Steel Magnolias) and “What you need to ask yourself is, are you a Mexi-can or a Mexi-can’t?” (Once Upon A Time in Mexico). The dogs are wagging at him adoringly, and I’m playing with my new guitar and amp after the best massage I’ve ever had (I almost fell off the table afterward).

All in all, a good day so far.

to satisfy my Zen fix, here’s Tricycle again:

Not Knowing

Zen Master Jizo said that “not knowing is the most intimate thing.” Not knowing means to be open to all eventualities, to not prejudge a person or situation. If your mind is full of preconceived notions, there is no room for an unbiased view. It is like when your hands are full of objects—you cannot pick up anything new. A closed mind causes separation and suspicion. Like an umbrella, a mind is only useful when it is open.

From “Zen in the Workplace: Approaches to Mindful Management,” Tricycle, Summer 1996

Okay. Of the 22, 15 were mature, and 14 fertilized. That’s a good start, I feel. The very nice, helpful embryo lady will call me tomorrow with their progress, and transfer will either be Sunday or Tuesday.

Still riding that emotional roller coaster. Ate sushi until I couldn’t stand up last night, then woke up at 5am and finished it off. Oddly enough, I’m still not sick of it. I think that based on my food preferences, I was born in the wrong country. I prefer anything Asian to most things American. I buy 25 pound bags of rice and actually go through them. I have 5 different types of rice in my pantry, and the funniest thing I’ve seen in a restaurant was my mother picking at shrimp tempura and jasmine rice (she hates it – too sticky), trying to figure out how to salt it. Pointing out that that was what soy sauce was for got me a level, steady-eyed glare. Which then prompted me to order sea urchin just to see her face (priceless). After that experience and me trying to make her try Indian food I’d made (dal) she said “What on earth happened to you? You can make all this stuff and you still can’t make fried chicken??” She swears she’d think I was adopted if she didn’t know better… and the fact that I look just like my dad.

Donor egg maybe?? You know, honestly, there’s no accounting for genetics even within traditional families. It’s all a crapshoot anyway, isn’t it??

Okay. That’s my ramble for the day…. and thank you all for the words of encouragement! Like always, they mean the world to me.

22. Eggs. Retrieved. Holy hell.

Fertilization report tomorrow morning.

I hope she got my letter. Do you think she got my letter? I hope she read the letter. Maybe I should call to see if she got my letter.

I’m calling to see if she got the letter……

22 eggs retrieved.

I cannot get my brain around this.

*Update: She did get and read the letter. The nurse said that she was “touched” and “thought it was sweet”.

So………….okay.

I may have said this before, I don’t remember. If my blog was organized AT ALL I could look back and find the post, but it’s not. I’m lucky I can occasionally upload pictures without a devastating impact on this planet and any parallel worlds…..

I don’t like pictures of myself, never have. Maybe one day I’ll post one. Maybe (probably) not. But I’ve always taken pictures of my feet, in lots of different locations. There’s one of my feet on my “about” tab, taken in the Dominican Republic. Lovely beach, lots of Europeans and lots of German food for breakfast. Couldn’t really hack that. (um, the food I mean)…. Anyhoots, I feel like posting some foot pictures. So I’m going to. My blog, my feet.

GP's office 6/9/09 - when the shitstorm started!

New Orleans 5/09 - don't remember the restaurant - 2 Bloody Mary's consumed

Someone else’s feet, I’m assuming. I was coveting her shoes…..

Cardiologist's office 6/24 - quite a posh place, I must say...

Mexico 9/08 - a pool with a bar and pool boys, no less!!

Not feet, but still gross! The end of wk2 of heparin shots. I've gotten better with them, I promise.

this pics also upside down…..I think…….how did I do that??!

And that’s my sharing for the day. Trying to work after not much sleep last night and rather a lot to drink, I’m afraid. Brain’s beginning to function, so I’d better make hay while the sun shines.

Peace, y’all!

Retrieval 7/9.

OMFG.

Alternating between feeling sparkly and wanting to vomit.

So far, sparkly is winning.

OMFG.

I already said that, didn’t I?

Whoa.

Shit. That means the PIO shots start tomorrow. My favorite thing…..:-/

Babble much, Jodie??

If anyone would appreciate this comment, you guys would. I just have to share.

A co-worker of mine who knows what’s up asked me how things were going yesterday. I gave her the brief version (like ya do), and then asked how she was, chatted about another coworker who’s having some difficulties and I said something like “Bless her heart, ______”. Really don’t remember what I said, but I’m sure it was stunning. My coworker gave me the hairy eyeball, and said “Give me a break. You have so much more going on than that cow does. Most people have to be abducted by aliens to experience what you’re going through.”

And now I can’t stop laughing. God, it’s true, isn’t it?

Another tidbit from Tricycle:

Finding Happiness Outside the Box

Our notions about happiness entrap us. We forget that they are just ideas. Our idea of happiness can prevent us from actually being happy. We fail to see the opportunity for joy that is right in front of us when we are caught in a belief that happiness should take a particular form.

I’m trying to work out how I’m feeling about this upcoming cycle, my place in the world, myself in general. The truth is I have no idea. This upcoming cycle has taken so long to get here (not to mention the toll it’s extracted) that I still don’t quite believe it’s here. I think as soon as 6/10 I’ll be back in the stirrups again. I’m sure somewhere deep down I’m still braced for impact, even though I’d rather not admit that. I just can’t get rid of that pessimism. But I do laugh at it to defuse it somewhat. I know it’s there, I can’t get rid of it, but it’s not going to stop me. I’m able to catch glimpses of a possible future with kid/kids now and again, and am excited by that. I even had a dream I was sitting in a flower garden with a chattering little girl, picking flowers and poking bugs and woke up smiling, not heartbroken.

I went to a brunch Sunday with about 8 other women, all about my age, two had kids and the rest did not. Two don’t want them (to my knowledge), the rest just haven’t gotten around to it. I know too much about the dark side of fertility to ask anyone about their plans. But it was interesting to watch the interplay. There is life either way. You just have to accept what is, and somehow go on about your business.

I’ve basically been medically cleared at this point (knocking furiously on wooden desk). Still have to get documents from the cardiologist to my RE (who are 1/2 mile apart but might as well be on different planets), but they’ll get there.

For now, I’m hanging in there. Pulling a bit of a Scarlett O’Hara routine now and then (”I’ll think about that tomorrow….), but I really do feel clinically and emotionally stable. Which is more than I could say at certain points in times past.

Meh. Enough. Gotta go to work. I hope everyone else out there is doing well, I’ve been a lousy commenter for a few months. But I’m sending good vibes out for everyone, FWIW!

Hee. They yawned after the tests. One PVC on the treadmill test, no comment on the echo, but I can’t imagine it showed anything. Hematologist said (after waiting for 4 fucking hours on the guy – but I couldn’t leave, they’d left a cath in my arm for the 25 more tubes of blood they knew he’d order) he wouldn’t put me on blood thinners unless I’d had an event, too high of a risk vs reward. So if the IVF works, he’d want to see me again afterward but only to check up and see how the labs are. And he wanted to make sure someone checked my CBC at least once a month (preferably every two weeks) while on heparin. That’s it. The donor starts her stims today, somehow the lab she’s using managed to forget to draw a test (which was negative in April, but the FDA says they have to do it again) so I’m not worried about it. My clinic can’t get anything but a verbal on the cardiology report, and haven’t managed to get that out of them yet. So they’re going on my word, pretty much. I’m not worried about it. Worst case they freeze the embies.

Looks like I need to start trying to write a letter to my donor. Jesus, I don’t know where to start….

Off to have large amounts of coffee since nobody told me to even cut down!! Anyone wanna join me in a grande-something?

Treadmill test and ECHO on Wednesday afternoon, Hematologist Wednesday morning. Woohoo!!

The cardiologist didn’t exactly yawn, but wasn’t overly concerned either. He told me he’d send Wednesday’s test results directly to my RE to avoid the lag time of sending it to my GP first, yadayada. I told him I hadn’t told my RE anything yet and he said kindly but directly, “Looks like you need to call them, huh?”. Which I did. Left my message and my nurse had called me back almost before I’d finished speaking. No kidding, it was that fast. So, they’ll be watching for my results. Oh, yes…..

And honestly one of the first questions the cardiologist had (after “how did you get here, again?”) was “who’s your hematologist?” So I’m feeling pretty good about that appointment. That should be interesting. But it shouldn’t hold anything up, as I’m already on the heparin shots anyway. That doc’s for post management. So I’m over halfway to being in the clear medically, I believe.

My clinic also called to holler about payment (the more concrete half of being cleared), and I finally got to yell back at them. Not really yell, but fuss. It’d been so long since I made my last payment for the first donor who fell through that they couldn’t find it on their books, they had to go digging for it. It was, after all, September of last year…. they found it, credited it, adjusted the amount they were yelling about to something substantially less, and I agreed to show up tomorrow (in between doctor’s appointments) and cough it up. Cue feeling of accomplishment…..

Thank you all for the well-wishes and support – it’s been rough. I can’t convey how much it means…

Stay tuned! More drama to come, I’m sure – this is me we’re talking about, after all!