Ultrasound #2

This past Monday, J² and I went to our second ultrasound. Now most people are usually thrilled to get to see their baby. And we are no different, but for us there existed a slight apprehension. We don’t have the best track record for ultrasound. Too many times we have been dealt the blow of bad news. Not this time! With a room full of the doctor, nurses, and a phlebotomist, we got this little gem:

Isn’t that just the most beautiful sound? I want more than anything to hear that sound when I’m holding her in my arms.

On Wednesday, I had my first(again) OB appointment. So I had another ultrasound. I always seem to hold my breath until I can see that heartbeat. So at 8 weeks, here’s our little girl:

The mind-melting dichotomy between joy and worry makes me wonder if I’ll be sane at the end.

It looks like I will continue taking the Estradiol and Progesterone until 10 weeks. I will use Lovenox until about 36ish weeks then switch to Heparin. I’ve also discussed with my OB about putting in a cerclage (more on that later).

For now, I have to wait o month before my next appointment. I may lose my mind.

FET Update #2

Houston, we have a positive! 

On November 27, I went in for my beta. Which is just your first HCG test. After the longest hours of my life, seriously, it felt longer than the two week wait. 

The nurse finally called and told us that my HCG level was 775 mlU/ml. This is a really good number for 14dp5dt (or 14 days past 5 day transfer). I’m officially pregnant! My stomach had to untie itself. This is a step in the right direction. I am in a bit of disbelief that it worked the first time for us. Not every woman is so lucky.

We then set up a time for my first ultrasound. And that’s why I’m writing this later than I would have. Because I wanted to make sure things looked alright before sharing. We went in on December 7. Which put me at 6 weeks and 1 day. Guess what? Measuring in the correct range was our little girl.

This is what an early scan looks like.

Our little girl.

Can’t see much, huh? First off, she is at the top of my uterus, which means not as clear picture. And second, it’s too early to see much. Sometimes, you might see a little more, but I think the position makes it difficult. You know what else we saw? The tiniest flicker of a heartbeat. Again, still too early to hear it, but there it was. Our little girl’s heart.

A convergence of science and nature. I’m in awe of both. And, yes, in love with the result that has barely come to fruition.

Truth be told, we have a long way to go. I’ve been here before and know nothing is set in stone. We have my second ultrasound in about a week. Crossing my fingers that things continue to go well. It’s as if I’m on a teeter totter that falls between excitement and anxiousness. I am haunted by the past losses to ever be secure in the hopefulness of any pregnancy. No matter how happy I am, that cloud follows me like a pet.

I’ll continue taking the estrogen and using the progesterone. Oh, and also Metformin and Lovanox.  I’ll also be content in experiencing all the nausea, tiredness, and sore boobs.

FET Update #2 – - - PUPO!

The day has arrived! Transfer day. From the egg retrieval to now feels as if a decade has passed. All Monday my stomach and nerves would not settle down. I felt excited. I felt nervous. There’s a giddiness that comes with the knowledge that the following day you will technically be pregnant.

Tuesday morning, J² woke me up and tried to focus on getting dressed and not freaking out. The magnitude of what was going to happen fired every nerve I have. Now, some may be worried about the procedure itself, but this weighed little on my mind. All my understanding is it’s similar to an IUI so I knew at most for me there would be mild discomfort. No, all the anxiety came from the fact I was about to have one of my embabies put back in and the hopefulness of wanting her to stick.

So I chose a simple black dress, my new leggings, and, of course, my lucky socks.

Stylin'

Nice combination, right? A quick aside: can I tell you about those leggings? They are from a brand called LuluRoe. I had heard the name pop up now and again, but didn’t pay too much attention. Leggings have never really been my friend. For some reason companies don’t like to make leggings in a petite size. So whenever I would buy a pair they always go passed my feet. It’s ridiculous. Well, a couple of weeks ago J² and I attended a fundraiser event and a couple of ladies were selling this LuluRoe stuff. So I caved and bought a pair. Surprisingly, the leggings actually fit. They are very soft and have a wide waist band. Which is a plus in my book. So these leggings made a good choose to wear for transfer day. We’ll see how well they hold up. Now back to transfer day. . . . .

I was told by the nurse to drink water on the way down so my bladder would be filling up by the time I arrived. The main clinic with the OR is about 45-60 minutes away. Your bladder needs to be full (not bursting) so the doctor can see the uterus and where to implant the embryo. Off we went; with a minor detour because of a freeway accident that had the road completely halted.

After checking in, we were taken to a consultation room to go over the finer details. The nurse had us sign a consent form and discussed the post-transfer instructions. This includes upping my Progesterone to twice a day and continuing my other medication (i.e. Metformin, prenatals, and blood thinner). My clinic recommends resting the remainder of the day and abstaining from activities that will make the uterus contract for a few days.

Next, the doctor came in to explain the procedure. He wasn’t our regular doctor, but that happens if you fall out of your doctor’s batch. He offered Valium, but said it didn’t look like I needed it. And I didn’t. He realistically gave us a 40% chance of this succeeding. I’m not sure if he is low-balling it or it’s just the sobering fact how hard this is. I am 36 so I get the distinction of being of advance maternal age. Evidently, my uterus needs a walker.

We are then taken to the pre-op area and I change into one of those stylish gown. J² gets to don a paper gown and mask. He looks good.

As we were waiting, I looked at the clock and mentioned how the digital face didn’t match the analog. The analog was reading 11:13 and the digital was at 11:14. Yeah. So it took after the clock turned 11:14 to realize the digital wasn’t the time - - it was the date. Duh. I blame my nerves and not me being an airhead. Ha ha!

The nurse came and escorted us into the OR. I got up onto the table and the nurse helped put my legs in stirrups. She did an abdominal ultrasound to check my bladder. Nice and full and I’m starting to feel it. At this time, the embryologist comes in and takes us through her part. She gives a picture our possible future daughter. She tells us they thawed the best looking one. Finally, the doctor comes in and we’re ready to go.

First, the doctor inserts the speculum (awkward and uncomfortable as usual) and cleans the vaginal area. The progesterone gel and mucus need to be flushed. Sorry, TMI. Secondly, a catheter is threaded through the cervix and positioned where the embryo will be placed. On a T.V. to our left we could see the petri dish with our embryo. At this point the embryologist confirms the name on said dish and then uses a needle to pick it up. The fourth step involves the embryologist bringing the needle containing the embryo into the OR and inserting it into the catheter that the doctor is holding in place. And lastly, the embryologist checks the catheter to much sure the embryo passed through. After the all clear is given, the speculum is removed. And that’s it. I’m officially PUPO. Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise.

Baby's first picture

In the red circle is the baby. The rest is the placenta.

I got dressed and we left. I mentioned to J² that I feel like I should feel different when leaving than when we first came in. Maybe a big flashing sign above my head that says, “baby on board.” I literally have a growing embryo inside of me. And, yet, it seems so surreal. I’m pregnant, but maybe not. I have no control of the outcome, but I’m worry that any sneeze, or cough, or even sleeping wrong will make the embryo fall out. The two week wait begins. Then I go in for blood work.

I’m trying to be positive, but also pragmatic. Be hopeful (yuck), but not get carried away.  

FET Update #1

How about an update? Currently in the midst of my first FET. What is a FET? It stands for frozen embryo transfer. As opposed to a fresh embryo transfer which occurs days after an IVF retreival. I must say this feels like a breeze compared to the retrieval process. After my cycle started, I went in for a baseline ultrasound and blood work. Raise your hand if you’re shocked by that. Standard modus operandi for a fertility clinic. Everything looked good. Now I’m taking Estradiol, orally, to help thicken my uterine lining. Aren’t you glad you now know that about me? Because you do. I’m also on Lovenox. Again. My stomach looks a little like those athletes who use that cupping method. Except my bruises are more gnarled.

On Wednesday, I have my next appointment. You’ll never guess what they are going to do. Ha ha ha! Did you say blood work and ultrasound? Well, you would be correct.

As of right now, my transfer date is November 14^th. That can easily change though. I’ll know more on Wednesday.

A laughable moment happened. I ordered Progesterone from a compounding pharmacy. It’s a suppository that comes in gel form. Many women either choose or have to do the shot form. I opted for the gel because I figured I’m going to be doing enough shots throughout this process. I received the medication; it comes in a tube. The instructions say to measure 1 gram. I’m looking at this tube and thinking, “how in the hell am I going to measure and use it?” Nothing else came with the medication. Sooooo……

Nope. A part of this equation is missing. The next time I saw the nurses I asked. Apparently, applicators should have been shipped with the Progesterone. I contacted the pharmacy and they sent those to me. Got to laugh where you can.

The First

Because I digressed a bit in the last post, I’ll continue my story here.

After consulting with our fertility doctor, we decided to try an IUI. IUI stands for intrauterine insemination. A nice fancy term for artificial insemination. After receiving the sperm sample, the clinic washes it to help eliminate the poor swimmers and produce a good concentrated sample. It is then injected into the uterus. Like putting Micheal Phelps into a kiddie pool. We want the fastest going the shortest distance. It’s a decent option for women with PCOS and no male factor infertility (MFI). Less evasive, less expensive.

We did our first one in July 2014. It failed. I took this failure the hardest. Perhaps, I was more hopefully than I acknowledged. Perhaps, it was waiting 11 years for good news. I recall getting the negative pregnancy test that morning and felt like I was punched in the gut. The melancholy hovered about me the whole day.

August 2014. Second IUI. Negative.

October 11, 2014. Third IUI. Two week wait. I refuse to test until I’m a least a week late. So a that two weeks became more like three and a half weeks. November 5^th: I think I’ve given it enough time. My cycle hadn’t started. My boobs were aching. So, I tested. And there it was in digital form –-- “Pregnant.” Without the ‘not.” It was positive!!!!!!!! BFP! My first one ever. Little butterflies hatched in my stomach. My mind commenced spinning. Blood test confirmed it. I was pregnant. J² and I were finally going to be parents.

Two days later, I had an ultrasound. The baby was where it should be. We could see the gestational sac and yolk sac. Ten days after that we saw the tiniest heartbeat ever. I was amazed. The flicker of a heart in a white blob on the screen. I loved that blob. At this point we “graduated” to my regular OB. I must say that it’s somewhat humorous when I went in to schedule an appointment and they had to do a pregnancy test. Then the nurse comes into the room and say you’re pregnant. Yeah, all those records that were transfer to your office should have told you. Perhaps, OB offices need a protocol for when fertility patients are transferred. Anyway, I had my first follow-up with my doctor’s nurse practitioner. Everything is progressing nicely. Scheduled out the rest of my appointments for the whole pregnancy.

Tired and nauseous, I managed to make a couple pies for Thanksgiving that year. Did I mention I was tired? My brain was becoming numb. And I ruined the pumpkin pie. I forgot the sugar. Who needs that in a pie? J² said he liked it. But that’s because he’s not much of a sweets person. So don’t trust his word on that. The lemon pie was alright.

Over a week later, on a Sunday night, I started bleeding lightly. I spotted in the first few weeks, but it a stopped. I was trying not to panic. The next morning, I was still bleeding. It hadn’t increased in flow that I noticed. I called the my doctor’s office and they had me come in. We ended up sitting in the exam room for over an hour because the doctor had to deliver a baby. So we sat anxiously.

Finally, the doctor returned and I had a rock dropped on my chest. I was supposed to be eight weeks along. The ultrasound showed no heartbeat. After such a long time……..

She gave us the usual spiel that it wasn’t my fault. Most likely a chromosome issue. We are handed some papers that explain all about early pregnancy loss. The doctor went over our options if I don’t miscarry naturally. She mentions it can take up to a week or so. We set up to go back the following week. And we left. . . defeated.

During this time, I kept telling my work I was coming in, so as we left the hospital I told J² to take me there. He suggested we just go home, but I was adamant that I go to work. Then I would take the time off I needed to get through this. I think part of my brain didn’t want to handle what was happening. I had broad expectations of what was to come, but not any true understanding. I went to work, while J² played racquetball waiting for me. My job is at a recreation center. Midway through my main task I started cramping. At first, I could ignore it. Then quickly, the cramping intensifies to the point where I’m almost in tears. I tell my manager that I have to leave. I make it as far as the nearest restroom. It is there, at work, that I fully miscarry my first baby. I managed to keep myself together in order to get J² and go home.

I showered, curled up on the couch, and slept. And I just laid there. I struggled through a phone call with my mom. In between making sure I was okay, J² painted the utility room. Focusing on a project helps him deal with his emotions. He already feels helpless enough because he can’t make me better.

As much I mourned my loss, I also began to focus on moving forward. I had to. The biggest question was could I get pregnant again. I couldn’t give up, yet.

October – Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month and other rants

Purely coincidental, waiting for transfer day and October have synced together. With the next step in our IVF process a few weeks out, I wanted to write more on my infertility journey. And in my case that includes miscarriages. October has been designated as the Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness month. One in four women will experience such a loss. I won’t call myself an advocate. I can’t fit into that world. I’ll also leave the gentle posts to others that are better equipped to handle it. For many, a dark abyss forms, both in heart and mind, and you must contemplate the decision to let it consume you. And even if you fight it, that darkness still gets its piece and leaves an emptiness. All the while, as you face this struggle, majority of the world will be apathetical. I am not delusional enough to think that people who don’t know me would have any feelings about me. However, I, like plenty of loss moms, do know the sting of being dismissed by the people around you. I could be polite and say it’s because they don’t understand. Well, I call bullshit on that. We have all listened to the troubles and tragedies of others that we can’t relate to. Often we just want validation that our pain is real and is okay to feel. I fathom that the awkwardness of the conversation makes people hesitate, but I don’t find this the biggest issue. After initial sympathies are offered(if any at all), very rarely is there any follow-up. Why does this irritate me? Because I am inundated with constant melodramatic wailing about the importance of mental well-being and how people should support everyone. This is puffery in the sense that we have that kind of capacity. It is also dubious since I rarely see any action that accompanies all the Facebook and Twitter posts that boast about love.

One moment a women is being offered the promise of happiness. In the next, she essentially experiences a mini labor, her insides twisting and contracting,. That longingness she wished for has been expelled. She is left hollowed out. I do mean this both literally and figuratively. And too often she sits reeling from the catastrophe and the hormonal upheaval alone. Why is it now no one can submit a shoulder to cry on or bring food? Whether, these babies only lived in the womb or had the briefest of moments in their parents’ arms, they were our children and they were loved.

I know I’m rambling a bit. However, how you been in a room full of family members and not one comes up to you and express any kind of sympathy? I have. And it would kind of sucks, but I long ago came to accept that I’m not someone who people bother about. My mental and emotional state is dependent mostly on myself. This is just me, however, plenty of women need to connect with family and friends.

Each women experiences their loss differently. Each will tell (or not) their stories in their own way. Each will, hopefully, find a path to healing in their own time. But many would like to be remembered after life has seemingly returned to normal. Some need more support. Others would just like someone to ask: “How are you doing?” The acknowledgment that their child existed can do wonders. There’s a burden of feeling like you are the only one who remembers your baby. The arbitrary way your grief is treated isolates you.

Sentiments have a place. Pretty words might work for some. Actions. Making an effort. This is what I see as meaningful.

If we want to work on being more compassionate, then we should start by being aware of the people closest to us. I believe a more local focus helps us build a bigger picture. Otherwise, it’s just posturing.

Nope, not an advocate. I’m probably the jerk you think I am. Have a string of displeased people in my wake that agree. I’m just tired of people’s idea of “helping” is to do a fun run. Or whatever viral fad is making the rounds. We want the appearance of being a good person because we neglect to actually BE one. Not saying we’re inherently evil, but not as humanitarian as the facade we don.

Sorry, if this post became disjointed. When I witness the opposite of what I’m being forced-fed, well, my eyes are still rolling. And even though I don’t fit in with the specialty groups I’m a member of, I still want to see a better support bridge in place.

The PGS results

Technically, I received the call on Friday. We went on a quick trip and I didn’t feel like posting. Being in a hotel room feels like escaping reality. Your existence centers around that little room and it’s easy not to care about what is happening elsewhere. Sooooooo….we’re back home now.

Out of the eight embryos tested; five were cleared as “normal.” And—spoil alert—they are all girls. We now have five tiny female embabies waiting for us. Still, nothing is guaranteed. The chances of success do rise, but no certainties. We will be transferring just one embryo at a time. There are several reasons for this. First, I have previous have suffered from an incompetent cervix. So the smaller the gamble on multiples, the better. Second, due to the blood clots I had, again one baby is better. I will be on blood thinners my entire pregnancy. Third, it seems to be recommended for a normal, healthy embryo. This will give us five potential attempts.

It looks like the end of this month or the beginning of November we should be able to transfer. What of the other three? Two were male, one undetermined sex. One had trisomy (three copies of a chromosome) and two had monosomy (one copy of a chromosome).

I find it all surreal. Basically, we started with 20 maybe babies. Now we are down to five. I am very grateful to have them. It’s just astounding to see how fast they can dwindle away.

Can I go hide in a hotel again?

Day 7 Embryo Update

Well, we officially have 8 frozen embryos. The embryologist confirmed that each one has been biopsied and safely tucked away. It can take 10-14 days for the testing to be completed. The testing we are doing is called preimplantation genetic screening (PGS). PGS will screen the embryos for chromosomal abnormalities. Sooooo…..it’s mean a return to the waiting game. After dropping from fifteen to eight embryos, I worry how many will be normal. First, you get excited because of the high number. Then, you lose half of them and it feels like the pendulum is swinging the other way. Oh, they tell you not to worry about things you can’t control. I wonder, though, if the worry is not for the situation, but for how we will handle it when we come out the other side.

Our hope is to transfer in October. All depending on my body cooperating and the biopsy results.

Day 3 -- Embryo Update

An interesting thing happened on the way to forum…..or on today’s phone report. First, the nurse told me was had 15 embryos. Ummm, 15? That is an increase from the 13 we had on Saturday. Apparently, two additional eggs matured and were able to be fertilized. So we got two more! Eleven of the fifteen are considered “good.” While the other four are “fair” but still had a healthy cell count. Now, I get to sit and fret for the next four days until the follow-up report. Here’s to wishfully thinking. 

Day 1 – Fertilization Report

Received the call this morning. Out of the 20 eggs retrieved, 14 were mature. Of those fourteen, 13 fertilized normally. Now because we are having the embryos tested, the clinic performed a procedure called ICSI. Which stands for intracytoplasmic sperm injection. It just means the embryologist directly injected the sperm into the egg. Overall, so far, so good at this point. Next report will be on Monday. Grow, little embryos, grow.

I still feel blah. Just can’t get situated enough to sleep well. But, I am getting better. 

The Harvesting ...Updated

As we drive to the clinic my stomach has began to do little summersaults. The anticipation causes my breath to catch. I'm scared about how things will turn out. I responded well, but will my eggs be a good quality? I have my lucky socks on though...

Now that I’m more coherent as the anesthesia wears off, I shall break down today’s events. After checking in, they took J² back for his – ahem – sample. Then a nurse came and grabbed me, went over a few things for ER post procedure, and took me back to the prep area. Prep area – ice box. Same difference. I’m sure there’s a reason for it to be cold, but when you’re stripping down it doesn’t seem to make sense. Also, I realize how much I missed J² because he wasn’t there to tie my gown up. So there I sat on the gurney fashionista style in a thin gown, head cap, and booties (but also got to keep my socks on) waiting to be taken into the OR. My doctor stopped by to brief me about what was going to happen. A few minutes later, a couple of nurses escorted me into the OR. I met the anesthetist, who was very nice. And I was introduced to the lovely embryologist who would be taking care of my little pre-babies and turning them into embryos. And then…….I was out.

Time traveling nearly 30 minutes into the future, I awoke were I started. This time I had J² at my side. It’s always a relief to see him there. He calms me down. The nurse checked on me and then Dr. G came by. They extracted (as J² calls it) 20 eggs. That’s a good amount.

Once I was more alert and fairly steady, we left for home. Remember how I said I was uncomfortable earlier? I taken that back. My abdomen feels extremely bloated, but there’s also some pain. I can’t sit up without it feeling like I’m squashing my insides. Moving around is awkward because, you know, all that work your midsection is involved in. Once I arrived home I planted myself on the couch and have been sleeping on and off. Furthermore, these are my plans for the rest of the weekend.

And now…...more waiting.

Tomorrow, we will be given the fertilization report. How many were mature and of those how many could be fertilized. I’m nervous. I really hope we got some good eggs that will then make good embryos. I don’t know if I could bear to fail again. Some semblance of success to generate a peace that this was a journey worth weathering. The discomfort and tiredness increase my apprehensiveness.

I will resume blood thinners and continue those for about a fortnight. Regarding what actually took place today and the how fragile it all is, everything was over so quick.

IVF Update #5

Stim day 10

Just for reference: my estradiol levels went from 2522.0 pg/ml on Sept 13 to 4189 pg/ml on Sept 14. No shots tonight. My belly is delighted. I would do a jaunty dance, but I can barely move. So I’ll gesture my hands in excitement.

To-morrow, to-morrow. Egg retrieval Is tomorrow. Is that not how the song goes? Well it does now. Bright and freaking early. 8 am. In order to avoid traffic, we have decided to stay in a hotel. Oh, and so I don’t have to wake up extra early. You might gather that I detest mornings.

You would be correct. J² on the other hand:

How annoying is that? Ha ha! He does get a ton of shit done though. As long as I can sleep, no one gets hurt.

Away we go. If you like me; keep your fingers crossed for us. 

IVF Update #4…..Maximum Overload

See that? It’s the finish line to this part of our journey. About 40 little pre-babies have been growing for about a week. Today, my doctor said they are ready. So tonight we trigger with Lupron. I’ve never been so thrilled to be getting just on injection.

Lupron uses LH instead of HCG to trigger ovulation. I’m using this type to help reduce the chance of OHSS. Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome is where the ovaries can swell. If it becomes severe, I could end up in the hospital. Dr. G is trying to prevent this. Drinks with electrolytes and food with protein and salt have been known to help decrease the odds.

Tomorrow, I go in for more blood work to check to make sure the Lupron is doing its job. Which makes Friday -- Egg Retrieval Day. It’s here…...almost. Now to prepare for the days following ER.

IVF Update #3

Welcome to stim day 8. I feel like this:

Just roll me around. Literally.

A beached whale would also be an appropriate metaphor. The copious number of eggs have caused my ovaries to touch. My doctor had difficulty seeing where one ended and the other began. No worries….it’s not dangerous. Sitting is a chore. Stretchy waistbands only. Or dresses. Good news is that I only have a couple more days. The official countdown hasn’t begun, yet. That won’t happen until I get the trigger shot. Here’s what tonight round of meds looked like:

                                 

Side note: See what I have circled in red? I cannot tell you how much I love that little thing. It’s called a Q-Cap. Why is it amazing? Let me bring you into the know. Normally, when you are mixing a solution and a powder medication you use a long needle to draw the liquid from one vial and inject into the powder vial. Then, you withdraw the mixture. Finally, you switch to a smaller needle and complete the injection. The Q-Cap eliminates the first two steps. This way you’re not trying to balance the vial while holding the needle and withdrawing the meds. That cute little cap fits over the top and has a tiny needle to puncture the rubber top. Just turn it upside down and pull down the plunger. Voila! Now, the original way is not as formidable as I make it sound. But, I just got excited that something in this process was made easier. Please, just let me have this. Considering my stomach looks like this right now….

Anyway, back to the main update. I still seem to have a rough estimate of 13 follicles on the left and 20ish on the right. Of these 19 are measuring between 13mm – 22mm. My estradiol came back as 2556.1 pg/ml. Progressing nicely. Even my doctor is kind of excited.

So tomorrow I go back for what might be my final scan. It’s getting close. Wow. I still feel like I am I daze that all this is happening. I think by having the days broken up between scans and blood work make it so it doesn’t feel so overwhelming. Well, that’s from my perspective.

IVF Update #2

Stim day 6, time for more blood work and a follicle check. Estradiol came back as 1478.1 pg/ml. Almost tripling in two days. Next up, the ultrasound. Now, when I mention ultrasounds I am speaking of the transvaginal kind. You’re exposed and uncomfortable. Honestly, at this point, after everything that has occurred, I possess no modicum of embarrassment in stripping waist down and flinging my feet into stirrups. In general, I am a modest person, but no longer in a medical environment. Log that under interesting tidbit of the day.

What did the scan show today? I have amassed roughly 13 follicles in my left ovary and 20 follicles in my right ovary. Of those, from the few my doctor measured, 16 are between 12mm – 16mm in diameter. Not quite mature, but getting very close. Because they don’t want me to ovulate on my own I was given a dose of Cetrotide in office. I will also start this tonight and use it until I trigger. My doctor also decided to drop the Gonal-F injections and just maintain the Menopur at 150 iu.

Next appointment will be on Tuesday. It is possible egg retrieval will happen before Saturday. Which was the original tentative date. This whole process is flying by…..like I can’t catch a breath. We are excited that my body is responding well.

Symptoms: abdomen is bloated (because of the follicles), bruising from the blood thinner, still tired, breast tenderness, and uncomfortableness due to the bloating. 

IVF update #1

Today marks day 4 of stims and my first estradiol, which is estrogen, level check. The results will give the doctor an idea of how my body is reacting. On my first day (CD3) of stims my estradiol level was at 53.3 pg/ml. A good baseline number. This afternoon my levels were at 504.3 pg/ml. The nurse stated that I was responding well. My Gonal-F measurment was dropped to 75 iu. Below is a chart that displays how estrogen levels increase through an IVF cycle.

Source

I will do this for the next two days. On Sunday, or stim day 6, I go in for more blood work and an ultrasound. Here’s a nice picture of what our nightly ritual consists of:

That yellow-labeled package? Well, that is a fun little addition to this protocol: blood thinner. Since several doctors and I concluded that the birth control pills were the (most likely) culprit for my blood clots, I shouldn’t introduce estrogen into my body without taking blood thinners. Why is it so much fun? Lovenox burns for about a minute after injection. Intensity can vary depending on….magical medication gnomes. Honestly, I don’t know. Some days, it’s not so bad. Other times, it’s as if lava was inserted under you skin. See? Fun. J² seems intent on keeping me alive. He did just drop a fortune for me to carry his love child.

Symptoms: slight bloating feel, twinges probably from growing follicles expanding, exhaustion, and nausea.  

The Craziness Begins

My nerves were just chillin’ until I had to go in for my baseline ultrasound. As I drove to the clinic, my gut twisted and my mind reeled with all the things that could ruin the start of this process. I could have a cyst, or multiple ones. My lining might be too thick or too thin. Would my blood work be okay?

Worries abated. Everything looked good. I have a plethora of tiny follicles, due to PCOS, just waiting to grow. So what does this mean? I get to start stims! The IVF process has begun. The wonderful nurse handed me my tentative schedule. She also gave me instructions on how to properly administer the medications. Although, when I was at home trying to mix it up, I still worried about doing it incorrectly.

And what does that mean? Lots of shots, blood draws, and ultrasounds. Which will continue for about the next week and a half. My first three doses will be 150 IUs of Gonal-F and 150 IUs of Menopur. Medication and timing will be adjusted as needed. It is also possible I may transform into a crazy, hormonal monster. Apologies to those near me. Appeasement can be found be leaving chocolate. Or maybe ice cream. Or food in general.

So, tonight was my first shot. And with this being a team effort, J² had the privilege of playing nurse. He’d look good in a sexy nurse costume for Halloween. 

I am excited and nervous. Doing my best to not have expectations beyond reason. We’ll see if stays that way. 

Almost dying....Part 2

Returning home, I set up camp, so to speak, in the living room. When I take ill I usually sleep on the couch. That way I can move around without disturbing J². Although, J² did sleep next to me in a recliner for the first few nights. He was overly worried that I might stop breath. He is my husband and he should be concerned, but there are times when I feel I’m not worthy for such distress. Now settled, I focused on another important task; showering. While I was almost desperate to wash the hospital from me, I ran into a problem. Standing. Not something I could do for very long. Then a thought crossed my oxygen deprived brain and I called J² who was picking up my pills. I had him purchase a shower stool. So helpful. I was all clean and I didn’t fall over. Big win.

I ended up taking three weeks off work. After shuffling back into work, however, I sort of wished I reconsidered. Since I was only there for an extremely short amount of time, I chose to leave my oxygen tank in the car. It was a little heavy and I didn’t want the attention.

Physical recovery basically consisted of rest and slowly introducing exercise. As I felt a little better, I walked a little more. Mentally was more of a deterioration. When I landed in the hospital my brain automatically focused on what was wrong, how to fix it, and healing. After a couple months, when I felt practically normal, the panic and thoughts started creeping in. Besides having my plate full with issues, one more was added during this time that was not only revealing, but also damaging. So everything was compounded into a nice ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

  

At random intervals, thoughts crossed my mind. The kind of dark thoughts you wouldn’t expect of someone who just had a serious health crisis. The accumulation of these thoughts spilled over the day we spoke with our fertility doctor. He didn’t give us bad news, quite the opposite. He still believed her could help us. Later that night, after J² had gone to bed, I felt the weight of everything. I panicked over the time we had lost. I panicked over the time I felt slipping from my grasp. Like, no matter how hard I could run, I would never catch up. Yes, chasing an intangible notion seems very reasonable. But, nevertheless, a relatable way to describe the particular weariness that came with the panic. I started to cry.

Then came the thought that I should have died. Why did I bother going to the hospital? What purpose did saving my life bring? How easy to ignore the symptoms. To clarify, I was not suicidal. I didn’t feel the need to hurt myself, but I just didn’t want to exist. I can’t even do a breakdown right. I understand it was a good thing to not be suicidal. But, the impression I’ve always gotten is that my feelings and experiences are not dire enough to warrant discussion. So it seems foolish mentioning it.

No matter the importance, I still felt like the visceral reaction to seek help was actually the wrong choice. I could provide nothing. I could offer nothing. I felt like I was losing It all. So why was I alive? Plain and simple: Luck. Many people die from pulmonary embolisms. I noticed an issue and looked to solve it. Deserving or not, it’s happenstance. No deeper meaning. Peace was not bestowed. Sorry if you thought I’d have some epiphany. I’m broken. In more ways than one.

Days passed by. Months. And now it’s been over a year.

I’m no longer in that mindset. I’ve accepted certain truths and what not to bother with anymore. We’ve continued fertility treatments. I did what I’ve trained myself to do; deal with it and move on. It’s what happens when you’re an in-between. This post isn’t meant to evoke anyone’s sympathy (not that I would presume it would). It’s better saved for others that need it.

As much as what’s in my head has hurt me, it also has saved me. 

Almost dying Part 1

In the midst, and slightly because of fertility treatments I was dealt a huge setback in May 2016. J² and I were restarting our baby-making attempts after our most recent loss in November 2015. We returned to the clinic and were planning on doing another IUI, or Intrauterine insemination.

Quick side note: I will use many abbreviations relating to the infertility community throughout this blog. I plan on putting up a chart that will break these down.

Well, as my luck would have it, my body refused to follow the plan. My cycle wasn’t being consistent and then in mid-March the nurse found a cyst on my ovarian. If you are unaware, an ovarian cyst is a fluid-filled sac. Cysts are resolved in four main ways: by absorbing into the body naturally, with the help of birth control, rupturing painfully, or surgery. They told me to wait a couple weeks to see if it would disappear. Near the end of March I had another scan. The damn thing was still there. This wouldn’t be the last time I felt like screaming during the year. So, my doctor prescribed birth control. It’s very common and usually a fine treatment. I would take the pill for roughly six weeks.

In the interim, J² had a conference in San Diego at the beginning of April and I decided to tag along. The first half of the week I hung out in a hotel room in La Jolla. As an introvert, I do enjoy my alone time and am very skilled at keeping myself entertained. I alternated my time between my peaceful hotel room and exploring the surrounding areas. For the second half, after the conference concluded, we stayed in a condo in Oceanside near to the beach. J² and I did plenty of beach strolling. I can walk for hours on the beach. The sand softly hugging my feet as the water sinks them deeper. We also went to an Angels game and a whale watching tour. A much needed getaway. I know I have digressed a bit here, but 2016 was rough and this was a really happy time.

The remaining four weeks were uneventful besides feeling excessively tired. While seemingly unrelated at the time, about a week before my six weeks were up, I felt as if I had a strained muscle in my right calf. This was odd since I hadn’t done anything in particular that would cause this. On the first Sunday in May, I noticed when I would climb the stairs I felt slightly winded and my heart felt like it was racing. Not extreme enough to be alarmed, but definitely enough be puzzled. Perhaps, I was getting sick. On Monday, I felt similar sensations when I walked up the stairs at work. How worried should I be?

After leaving work, J², his parents, and I headed out to run a couple errands. We also grabbed lunch. Every time I was out walking, I still felt….something. Something was off, but I couldn’t really described it without sounding a little weird. Finally, on our way home, J² and I stopped by a local pond. I mentioned I how I was feeling. AS we returned to the car the trail has a slight inclined before it reaches the parking lot. Seriously, it wasn’t that steep. No problem, right? Ha! By the time I reached the car, my heart was pounding and felt like it was in my throat. I couldn’t catch my breath and my head was spinning. J² noticed I didn’t look right. I leaned against the car and……..I was looking up at J² while laying on the ground. I had passed out for a few seconds. We got me into the car and headed to Instacare. The doctor did an assessment; my bpm was high and oxygen levels were low. She then did a few tests to eliminate a panic attack or a heart attack. A heart attack? At 34? Oh please, no. I almost felt embarrassed. But, it wasn’t that. The doctor was concerned about one more thing, but unable to test at the clinic. So we were sent to the ER. And we sat there and waited for a bit. Finally, back in the exam room, on oxygen, the ER doctor wanted to do a CT scan.

The results? I had bilateral pulmonary embolisms. Translation: blood clots in my lungs. A large clot was in my right pulmonary artery and several small clots were in my left lung. I was admitted and immediately given a strong blood thinner. The next day, an ultrasound revealed another blood clot through my whole right leg. I was asked if I had any pain or swelling in my legs. The only answer I had was that pulled muscle feeling. I spent two days in the hospital. The doctor switched my medication to Xarelto and I was put on oxygen at home. Nose tubes for the win. And the recovery process begins. 

Nothing like playing doorbell ditch with death.

Since this post has been long, I am going to split it in two. I have some heavy thoughts and feelings that I don’t want to get lost in this part of the story.