Still here. Not much to say, no drama to report. Last u/s showed the rat (as we’re affectionately calling it ) measuring 7w5d (right on target), HR 170. So far so good. Starting to taper off on the hormones (praise Jesus) and still dragging ass in a big way. The house looks like a bomb went off, quite disgusting. All I can do is flop on the heating pad and not care for the moment. I’m still reading and occasionally commenting, but basically I’m a lousy blogger at the moment. I’m lousy at lots of things right now, to be honest. But I hope everyone’s doing well, or at least has minimal drama…..

And now, off to get coffee. I have to get my face off my desk somehow… :-/

More Tricycle:

Where Fear Ends

Fear is finding fault with the future. If only we could keep in mind how uncertain our future is, then we would never try to predict what could go wrong. Fear ends right there.

Damn. I wish it were that easy…

Here’s more daily dharmas from Tricycle- two that I thought were neat:

You’re Already Free

There’s a traditional story about a man imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit who attempts to dig his way to freedom with a spoon—rather like the character played by Tim Robbins in The Shawshank Redemption. After years of bone-wearying struggle, his hands calloused and bloody, he finally realizes the futility of his efforts and gives up. Tears of frustration and desperation streaming down his cheeks, he leans back against the door of his cell, only to discover that it’s been unlocked all along. As implausible as this story may seem, the point is clear—the prison that you imagine constrains you doesn’t really exist.

How to Be Happy

In this world, all qualities spring from preferring the wellbeing of others to our own, whereas frustrations, confusion, and pain result from selfish attitudes. By adopting an altruistic outlook and by treating others in the way they deserve, our own happiness is assured as a byproduct. We should realize that self-centeredness is the source of all suffering, and that thinking of others is the source of all happiness.

Had the u/s yesterday: singleton pg, fundal implantation, measurements appropriate for 6w2d, hr 121.

Estimated due date – wait for it……

April Fool’s Day 2010.

It’s sort of appropriate, actually.

They also saw small subchorionic bleed (a couple of large ones torpedoed the last one), so Dr. RE told me to quit taking the baby aspirin. Apparently phospholipid syndrome has been treated with heparin alone in Europe with similar outcomes. I was told to make an appointment with the “normal” OB for 3 weeks, so he’s apparently not going to turn me loose until about 10 weeks. Which makes me feel a bit better. Even though they keep finding things to charge me for every time I go in. “Assisted hatching”?? WTF??! I know, why don’t you just keep my credit card and let me know when you ‘re done with it.

But I digress. Just have to work my cranky in, you know.

So yeah. Been here, done this. Still just going through the motions, still just waiting for the other shoe, still not planning anything. Just trying to breathe and get to work on time, thank you. The first thing’s working so far, the second not so much.

As far as symptoms go, I’m doing fine. I still have sore boobs (but not bad), no nausea/food aversions/cravings, some occasional headaches (though that could be from lots of things). Only complaints are the fatigue (just draggy all the time) and my butt is SORE, man. Sick, sick, sick of these shots. Have I already said that? Sick of it, I tell you. I don’t know if the needles are dull or if I just have elephant skin, but I’m having to screw these needles in. Especially the heparin shots, but sometimes even the PIO shots, as if they’re not bad enough. Anyone else having these issues, or am I just lucky? Argh. Whatever happens, I won’t have to do them for much longer. So no more griping about that from me.

Lately my first instinct is to bail out of social events and hibernate, but that’s a bit of a trap, isn’t it? So I take a very deep breath, smile and say, “Why of course, we’d love to come! What can we bring?” I remember how horrible the isolation was after the miscarriage, on top of the horrible business of the miscarriage. I’d like to try not to repeat that aspect, at least.

On a more chirpy note, I have some books ordered that I’m excited about, one that will show me how to play acoustic guitar just like Nancy Wilson, I’m sure of it – maybe even before I die. But only if I practice every day until my hands fall off.

Some dreams just die hard, don’t they?

Holy God. The ultrasound isn’t until next Tuesday and I have almost chewed both my arms completely off. Well, not literally (yet), but it’s the next step. This is just never-ending levels of hard. D helpfully interjected that once we see the heartbeat all this stress will all go away like magic (bibbity-bobbity-f*ing-BOO) and I absolutely snarled at the man. We saw a perfectly healthy normal heartbeat last cycle too, SEVERAL times, and it still vanished like a fart in the wind – just in case he’d managed to forget that little tidbit of information.

And the conversation disintegrated from there, as you can imagine. There were raised voices (mine), lowered voices (his) and wary backing away with hands spread, lest the sudden motion cause me to attack, all bared teeth and insanity.

I have to peel my fingers away from a white-knuckled grip after the first ultrasound. If for no other reason than that I cannot go through an entire pregnancy this frightened. And if the results are bad, there’s not a damn thing I can do. You’d think I’d be used to that mantra by now. If I can get stuff done for my Wed meeting maybe I’ll just take the whole U/S day off. A mental health day is called for, I’m thinking…..

Okay. Thanks for letting me vent, I’ll get back to practicing deep breathing and not growling.

So, D and I went to look for some furniture on Sunday (place @ 2 hrs away with great prices), he decided he didn’t like what we went after and (of course) we didn’t find anything else we liked. Priced 8 different bedroom suites, but (also of course) none were in the store for our viewing pleasure. We were just digging through catalogs. We could have done that online and saved ourselves the trip. And of course they were all at least twice what we were planning on paying. Sorta defeated the purpose of driving around after bargains, no?

We finally get home (after stopping at a convenience store and consuming an entire can of Pringles in the car on the way) and we have a message. Guess who.

My RE had been on vacation for the last 1.5 weeks, said he was still getting caught up on all his phone calls. He went over all my medication, lab results, blood work results (including the HCG’s), the embryo quality of those transferred and those frozen (which he exclaimed was “just the icing on the cake!”) – sort of a little mini-medical history, neatly summarizing the last – God – 3 months. It was sort of surreal. And he truly sounded pleased – no projecting on my part, I haven’t physically seen the guy in almost a year. Except for a passing nod in the local Lowe’s – that was a startling encounter. It’s always weird to me to realize that my physicians actually have arms and legs and don’t necessarily wear those white coats everywhere. I just really like the guy, he makes me feel warm and fuzzy and taken care of.

As far as a progress report goes, everything still seems to be on track. And of course I say it like that because I still expect to be derailed at any moment.

I’m going to start walking tonight, I think. I’ve hesitated to initiate a solid exercise program at this point because I feel pretty crampy – pushing ahead with exercise tends to exacerbate it (all together now – “then don’t do that”!). Before I was pg, between having endometriosis and ovarian cysts, I would at times end up spotting pretty heavily after even moderate exercise – just depended on the day. Sometimes running a 5k wouldn’t phase me and sometimes walking to the mailbox was a chore. Which is why I gave up running – couldn’t maintain consistency. And struggling over the same distances without any real improvement got old. Okay, so there’s the pity party for the week. Still pg, still crampy (though not as bad as last cycle) and still scared to move. Some things don’t change easily, do they?

Update on the couch potato status later – I’ll let you know if I actually got off my butt or sprouted roots.

Oops, forgot to post the second beta – 156. Means I’m still in the game, I guess.

Butt’s better, bruises are almost gone from the heparin injections (finally got the hang of all this), still feel like nothing’s physically going on. And if the universe is paying the kind of attention to me that it usually does, I’ll now proceed to contract swine flu or something worse. Excuse me, H1N1. Let’s give the little piggies a break, shall we?

The 6-wk ultrasound is scheduled for 8/11, and then I get to talk to the RE afterwards. I’m on the verge of buying more peesticks to last until then because apparently I don’t really feel like anything’s going on unless I’m being poked or prodded or otherwise medically invaded.

And I’m very, very uncomfortable with all this – again. The p-word, feeling like I’m sitting at the wrong table, can’t fathom making plans past…..well, today. So, I’ll just wander along as best I can. There’s a dinner party this weekend with people who I don’t plan on telling any time soon, but if I’m outed somehow I’ll just say it. I don’t exactly know how I’ll say it, and I’ll probably be mad at first, but it really isn’t that big a deal if you step back a bit. Much easier said than done, as we all know. One of the things I’m dreading the most is calling the damn daycare – again. Why do I have such angst over that? But I can’t exactly put it off, gotta have someplace to eventually put the rat (if it actually shows up this time).

Ack. Too much thinking on a Monday. Hope everything’s going well with the rest of you…..

K. It’s official. HCG = 56. There appears to be something in there (is it weird that I’m a little freaked out by that?). I almost added “for now” at the tail end of that sentence and stopped myself. Why be pessimistic if I don’t have to? I’ve been stomped on before, I know how to handle it and I’ve managed to make it this far in spite of the universe shitting on my head. Continuously, I might add. I’m running through the Tricycle quotes I’ve posted, and they’re actually proving quite helpful (helped squelch a couple of panic attacks already). At this point, right now, today – I feel mostly good (back hurts a bit, gotta start doing yoga again), comfy in my skin, I can look people in the eye and smile and mean it. That’s a good start for any day, in my book.

Beta #2 Saturday morning. Until then, I am a leaf on the wind*……

* – a quote from one of my favorite movies, “Serenity”. I still miss “Firefly” (tv show it was based on). Damn you Sci-Fi, or Scyfy or whatever the hell you call yourself these days….

Lousy picture. Stupid iPhone. I need a real camera.

And I’m still apathetic. Self-preservation? Probably. I’m sort of picturing it as one hurdle down. There are still lots of them to come.

I don’t feel excited or worried at this point. I’m so used to taking things one day at a time, I’ve been doing it for months already. I’ve told you guys, D and my sister (which is as good as telling my entire family). The other people who know I’m having “the test” tomorrow will find out tomorrow when I get the numbers. I’m not telling anyone else until I’m good and ready and I have no clue when that will be. I can’t say the p-word, couldn’t last time, and I will probably break out in a rash when/if someone congratulates me. If this pg sticks around, I guess I’ll have to learn to deal.

I didn’t pee on anything the last IVF cycle, I was too scared. This time I wanted to know. I was still scared, but I decided that if the news was gonna be bad, I’d get it one way or another. And I really, really hate these PIO shots this time around. Upside, pg. Downside, at least I get to stop these damn shots. So, Sunday (5pt10po) I tested and it was negative. So….that’s a put-your-money-where-your-mouth-is moment, isn’t it? Dammit. I had one more test, so I figured I’d wait till the day before the blood work. And there it is – I was prepared either way. I have had no bleeding, spotting, anything. No real symptoms. Mildly sore boobs, bit of a headache, crampy and crabby – all my normal menstrual stuff.

So. I don’t really know what else to say, except to thank all of you for your good wishes and support. Thanks for being here, through all of it…..

Ah, the 2ww. How I’ve missed you. I forgot just how much fun this was last time! And the PIO shots, just as hideous as ever (thanks for the extra stuff, Dora!!). Having some trouble getting in the groove again, so my butt is way unhappy. Ice, shot, heat, complain. Lather, rinse, repeat. D walked by one morning on his way to the shower and pinched my butt while I was brushing my teeth, I whirled around almost slugged him. Still had the toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. Poor stupid man….. eventually he does learn, but so slowly.

IVF embryo transfer is really pretty anticlimactic. Really. It’s a lot like getting a pap smear except you have to wear a hair net, and there’s a little bit more equipment in the room. Transferred 2 embryos, froze 3. The valium must have hit me like a ton of bricks because during the transfer, the RE asked me if I was cramping. I thought he asked if I was crapping (and thought of Peeveme’s story about crapping herself at work). I promptly burst out laughing, during the transfer mind you, and almost couldn’t shut up. I saw his face, from mid-mask up peeking worriedly at me from between my legs and almost said “I’d think you’d know even better than me at this point, don’t you?” Then I realized the misunderstanding, realized there’s no way to explain the howling laughter gracefully and decided to just shut up. D patted my head and said, “that’s my little stoner.”

Three days on the couch passed slowly and yet quickly – I don’t feel anything yet. Didn’t last time either. The PIO made my boobs a little sore last time, but just barely. When I found out I was actually pregnant after the last IVF the only symptom I had was mild heartburn. So far nothing’s going on, but I’m not looking too hard. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll POAS, but I’ve got a few handy in case the mood strikes me. The embryologist called with the final freeze report and said that there was no reason not to expect a positive pg test 7/23, and after I recoiled from the phone I thanked her very much. Screw it – it won’t jinx anything, it’s really out of my hands now. Her being optimistic won’t affect anything besides my mood. Screw off, universe. I ain’t yo plaything anymore.

Rawr….

……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.