Twisted Ovaries

Today

I'm now having brown spotting and it's freaking me the fuck out-it started out as pink but now is brown.  Not much spotting, but spotting.

I even showed Aidan, calling him into the bathroom:  Can you look at this?  Is this brown?  It's brown.  It's brown.  I know it's brown.  Look, isn't it brown?  It's not from my butt, don't freak out.

The brown sighting was confirmed.

I have home pregnancy tests but am resolute not to use them.

The nausea disappeared today into a plane of indigestion, but then came on again with a vengeance about 20 minutes ago, to the point where I actually had to sit by an empty bucket because I did indeed feel it coming on (I would've held my head over a toilet, but actually that very action alone makes me throw up.  Plus I wanted to reserve toilet use for constant toilet paper checking.  And a good episode of The Simpsons was on, so obviously I had to hug the bucket, entertainment over convenience, surely.)  I'm also absolutely exhausted and get light-headed easily, not something I usually get unless hangovers involved (they're not!  No alcohol for me, honest!)

All of this could be due to progesterone.

According to my calendar, my period would have been due today, but for one reason (pregnant) or another (too many hormones in the body) it never came.

I have now entered obsessive wiping mode.

I am 7dp3dt, and 7 more days to go.

5dp3dt

So now I'm 5 days post a 3 day transfer.

Woohoo.

Friday, Saturday and a bit of Sunday were spent with cramps.  Not like period cramps, but some kind of lower, tighter feeling.  It was as though I'd been doing too many situps combined with feminine issues (I most certainly have not been doing situps.  In fact, I haven't even been to yoga in months as IVF is not really conducive to the type of yoga I'd been doing and I am in no way presumptuous enough to sign up for neonatal yoga classes because that would not only be some kind of jinx, I'd be a serious poseur in that class of a room full of pregnant women. Gah!)  I have no idea what the cramps were-according to my calendar, if my period were coming it'd come on Wednesday this week, but the insane amount of hormones I am on and have been on make me think that, even if this cycle is negative, my period will likely not be here on Wednesday. 

I've also been nauseous and headache-y, but I honestly think that's due to the weather-yesterday was hotter than Roseanne's buttcrack and even though I tried to drink water constantly, in that kind of heat the only way to stay hydrated is through an IV (tempting). 

Friday night was Book Club night and I was hosting it. Angus and I cooked dinner and cleaned up and when the ladies came, there was much uncorking of wine.  They looked at my glass of lemonade suspiciously, and I lied and told them that I had been burning the candle at both ends and was riding the antibiotic pony to clear up cystitis.  They bought the story.

I felt guilty for lying.

Especially since two of the ladies in the Book Club are infertile themselves-one of them is even an IVF veteran, and came out the other side of many rounds deeply in debt and childless.

The truth is, absolutely no one in our real lives knows about this FET cycle.  During my fresh cycle two of my coworkers and the Book Club knew about it, but this time?  We told no one.

If I am honest, I feel very positive about this cycle, which is probably a mistake that will send me into the heaviest drinking binge this side of my University Year 1994.  My therapist keeps telling me to be positive, to visualize being pregnant, and honestly, I think I am.  Which, again, is an incredibly dangerous thing to do.  Positive might have me feeling really stupid in a week and a half, just long enough to raise my head from an open bottle (I don't need alcohol.  I just really, really like it and the mind-numbing opportunities it grants).

I'll just blame my therapist, yes?

Day 1

OK, so...here I am on day 1 of the 2ww.

*crickets*

Right.

I took it easy yesterday, after enjoying some homemade mac and cheese and napping off and on, bottom conveniently parked on the couch.  I did watch a few films, including Batman Begins and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (Rock on, San Dimas!) as well as a few episodes I had of Big Love (I fucking love that show.  Who knew polygamy would be so interesting?  Now, if we could have a show about polyandry, I'd really know that HBO truly is the progressive channel I want it to be.)

Then I watched an episode of Lost, the one where Sun finds out she's pregnant (we're about 6 months behind the States in this show, I can't imagine I'm giving anything away, but if I have then I'm really sorry and you can shout at me).  And I sat there thinking:  Is this a sign?  You know, because I hopefully will get knocked up after seeing the business end of a pointy syringe today and all?  A sign?  A siiiiiiiiiiiign?

I'm being ridiculous.  I know I am lucky enough to have seen it divide yesterday (but a part of me still thinks: That wasn't a division!  I saw Look Who's Talking!  In that movie, the cell started dividing amongst little fiery electrical storms!  There was purple fairy dust.  Purple! Fairy! Dust!  There was trippy 70's Hendrix guitar playing!  My embryo did none of that, there was no purple fairy dust, no lightning!  All there was were blobs of mercurial-like bubbles!  Hollywood would never lie, never!)

So anyway, here I am on day 1.  Aidan very sweetly instructed me to not even think of lifting anything heavy or overdoing it today.  Compared to the hell on earth that was our last 2ww (read: worst 2 weeks of my life, even worse than when I was made redundant from my job in Stockholm and just sat on an armchair, unable to function), I think we've both learnt a lot and are handling things better.

Anyway, I was tagged by Lassie and thus I will give in and *gasp* do a meme.  It's in the extended entry.

1+1 = 2

So.

Yesterday I spoke to the clinic-twice.  The first time I rang, twitchy and impatient in Upper Buttfuck, and since I hadn't heard from them I took matters into my own hands.  They had only just started to thaw my embryos, so when I spoke to them two hours later, the world was a different place.

I had 5 embryos thawed-a "straw" (they call them straws, which always makes me think of Ovaltine for some reason) of three 4-cell embryos and a straw of two 5-cell embryos.  We had debated only thawing the straw with three 4-cells, this was nearly our plan of action, but good thing we didn't-neither of the 5-cells survived the thaw anyway.

With the successfully thawed embryos, the race was on.  Two of the 4-cells survived with all 4 cells.  One survived with 2 of 4 cells.  Our appointment was this morning at 10 am.

We woke this morning and I felt in the mood, so a little bedroom action was had.  I realized afterwards this may not be a clever move-seeing as how sperm can survive in the body for a few days, the doctor would most likely have a view of some little swimmers come transplant time.  I tried to rinse out as much as I could in the shower, I felt a bit embarassed, but then figured: What the hell.  He's a reproductive doctor, anyway, he should be used to this.

We go in, both of us slightly chipper.  I realize I feel positive and try to stop myself from feeling so-the sight of a negative pregnancy test a sight I know very well, and it's absolutely gut-wrenching.  We talk to the nurse for a while, where we determine the ass bullets need to walk up a few paces and need to start going into Beaver Land, as the ass side of things is making me ill.

The RE comes in (with a trainee RE who is, wouldn't you know it, very pregnant.)  Our doctor comes in as well (there are two doctors there, and this is the one who did my transfer last time).  They announce cheerfully that all the embryos have kept dividing, but they will put the two 4 cells back in, which have now become 5 cells-one of the 5 cells is a grade 2, one is a borderline grade 1 or 2, and both of them are free from fragmentation. 

I ready up in my Gucci cloth.  They show the embryos on the screen, and as my  doctor tells them to focus, etc, there is a throb of excitement.  "Look!" shouts the RE.  "One of them is dividing right now!"  They finally focus on the embryos and the doctor shows us that one of them is dividing. 

Ummmm....okay.  It's absolutely unclear to Aidan and I what's going on, although it's true that one of them is moving somehow, and it looks full of rolling mercury balls. 

"See it dividing?" asks the doctor.

It's true I see something's happening, but am not sure what.  I really want to say yes, I want to say: Look at that cleavage! and not be talking about boobs, but I really don't understand what's taking place.  He and the RE are experts though, so I'm going to assume a rolling mercurial mass doth a split make.

The doctor turns to us.  "That was an excellent divide."

I wondered if he needed a cigarette then.

"It's done?" I ask.  It looks no different to me, still just a mass of little balls.

"Oh yes.  Things will be happening quite quickly now with the dividing," he replies.  "It's unusual to see it divide like that on screen, just before transfer."

So I'm lucky then.  I got to see proof that my embryos? Yeah, they like to boogie

We go over what to do and what not to do (not to do: have a bath, go for an aerobics class today, and no black tar heroin.  To do: take it easy today, keep taking the meds, and sex, unexpectedly, can often help with implantation so I'll be trying to see if I can fire up Aidan.  Again.)

I am now implanted with a 5 cell and a 6 cell embryo, and will have my test on August 16.

I still-perhaps foolishly-feel rather positive.

And if you'll excuse me now, I have some 80's DVDs to watch as I take it easy on the couch, and my lovely boy is going to make me macaroni and cheese for lunch.

Nearly There

Not having to do shots right now is great.

With great satisfaction I chugged my last needle into the orange container on Friday, grinning that I wouldn't have to use needles again (and then I modified that to: At least until my next IVF cycle.  Let's be practical here, babe.)

I started the ass bullets yesterday, and am happy to report that I already feel tired and crampy, as they make one feel.  It's also doing wonders for my colon (the drugs are suspended by solidified vegetable oil which the body lates rejects), but that's maybe TMI (note to any constipators out there: Go pop the top of the Crisco and lube up, man.)

Tomorrow all 5 of the remaining Vanessa-Aidan Poster Children For Cheese embryos get thawed.  We're doing this because it did our head in to think of how to do it otherwise-thaw 2?  Then 3 if needed?  Thaw 3, and get left with lousy 2?  Buy low sell high?  Pre-heat oven first?  It was too much, so we took the RE's advice to thaw all 5 and pick the best two. 

So we will, because Lemmings is What Vanessas Do Best. 

Just as all 5 of the only combined genetic material in the world that we have is thawing, I get to make my way across the country to Upper Buttfuck, where I have a full day meeting.  I didn't want to go for various reasons: 1) I wanted to take it easy, less because I am trying to rest up for the transfer and more because these days I am an unmotivated sloth, 2) I hate going to Upper Buttfuck and make it a general rule to immediately reject any meeting invites for there straight out of the Outlook barrel and 3) my nose bleeds if I go north of the M25.  But this was an important enough business meeting, so to Upper Buttfuck I go.

We should get a call tomorrow letting us know how the frozen ones are doing in their defrost, as well as a time for transfer on Wednesday.  I have taken the day off work on Wednesday, less because of wanting to have bed rest on day of transfer and more because of the aforementioned Option 1.  I think I'm going to spend it watching 80's films on DVD. 

So close and yet so far.

Don't Squeeze My Charmin

We went to the clinic yesterday for the final scan before the Chilly Willy tag team get transferred next week. I headed for the bathroom and got my usual fabulous Gucci outfit the clinic supplies (known in regular terminology as "nasty blue paper sheet") and realized my outfit choice that morning was a bad idea-I'd worn a dress. All I could do was whip my knickers off, trundle the sheet around my middle (plastic side in) and tug the dress up.

The RE lubed up the wand with ultrasound gel and then smacked the little condom on top. She went to insert the wand and, smiling at me, said: "This'll feel a little cold."

Then I felt a horrible burning.

The lip of my clitoris got caught on it.

I got wand-burn.

When it finally released with a sound not unlike a cork popping, we all breathed a sigh of relief (except Aidan, who maybe saw his chances at some action last night dwindling.)

The uterus, she needed to be at least 8mm thick. Mine weighed in at 13mm thick, and still has 6 more days of thickening before the transfer. My Charmin, she is nice and thick.

Transfer set now-the embryos get removed from the freezer and popped in the microwave next Tuesday (no not really. They get removed from cryostorage and washed several times with a solution designed to wash off the cryo-liquid). They will have 24 hours to see how they do, and the best two will be transferred next Wednesday.

Next Wednesday is the big day, then.

And strangely, I'm feeling pretty positive.

One Week

Scan tomorrow, and then hopefully transfer next Tuesday.

I'm so ready for the transfer. I've never been more ready for anything in my life, not even the first time I had sex (I was way late for that, it took 5 seconds, and I was there on his mother's living room rug going "Hmmm....I fancy a popsicle."), not even the first time I moved in with someone, nothing compares to being this ready. I'm at the stage now, 30 days into the cycle, where if I see another needle and it's not filled with some kind of medication that either: A) Makes me thin or B) helps me to communicate with Care Bears while eating Doritos then I may have to cry.

Since my next shot is in two hours and there's no hallucinogens in it, I'm guessing tears are on the menu.

Luckily the shots all come to an end on Friday. I believe I also cut off on the progynova then and head for the ass bullets. I'll take the ass bullets over the shots-even though the ass bullets suck, they have the benefit of acting like The Big Colon Clean Out (the fact that the key ingredient in the pessaries is vegetable oil, which holds the medication in that nice smooth bullet-shaped ass form, is what does it) is a perk-after all, IVF meds cause bloating and constipation, so any little help will be good.

I wobble between positive, "meh", and negative.

We'll see. The waiting game starts next week from today.

And Going

I'm ten days away from all of this reaching some kind of action plan-like Action Man, we all need a something.

I've seen on other sites what women have given up while dong IVF. I confess that last time I ate pretty healthily and, although I have given up yoga for now (the idea of doing downward facing dog while my abdomen is swollen and covered with needle bruises just doesn't appeal) I was still trying out poses from time to time.

This time, I have given up nothing-while I was never a smoker anyway, that would've been the only thing I'd give up. My RE said pre-implantation it's ok to drink, so I do. I have gained 5 pounds but am mindful that progynova causes excessive water weight, and due to the Buserelin I chuga lot of water to stave off the killer migraines.

Last time I felt way more zen about my cycle.

This time I feel like it's taking a fucking long time to get there, and I'm not even there yet.

Our odds are slim. I know that, Aidan knows that. I think I'll want to do another cycle right away-we can fit one in before that time frame known as the holidays. We do have a wedding to go to in the States the first week of November though, which throws in a bit of a monkey wrench. We'll see about the scheduling-I'm keen to avoid the exact days of Christmas/New Year, because that's the time frame where it succeeded then failed all those years ago.

Last night I dreamt I was begging pregnant women to stop taking thalidomide.

Nice.

Still on the Countdown

Less than two weeks to go until transfer now.

I've upped the Progynova now, to three tablets per day. The side effects are showing a bit-I'm pretty tired, I get to enjoy the Great Joy of Wind, and I have water weight (although that could be due to all the water I'm actually drinking due to the fucking heat wave we're experiencing here). I don't have the side effect that the label specifically warns me against: Warning! Alert your doctor immediately if you develop venous thrombosis!

Then again, my home testing kit for blood clots in the veins is buried somewhere under half-full bottles of Philosophy shower gels, so I've no way to know if I've got it or not.

Last night I dreamt I saw two lines on the stick.

It doesn't mean that it'll happen this time.

But it does mean that for the first time ever, I can at least visualize two lines on a stick, and that's comforting enough.

Keeps On Trucking

Drug taking is ongoing-the Buserelin shots have been reduced but I get to take pills called Progenova now, which are used to increase my uterine lining to Charmin-like qualities.

So far, the side effects from the whole process are less than before-I only cried a few times and at moments that weren't that inappropriate. I have some water weight, but the only other real sign of things going on are some pretty creamy knickers (if I got some chips and dip, I'd be having a par-tay in the pants right about now.)

It's strange to think that in two weeks the entire chunk of our frozen embryo foray will be defrosted-all 5 of them-and we will be putting back the best two. This took much internal debate-they're frozen in a stick of 3 and a stick of 2. The stick of 3 are all only 4-cell but good quality, while the stick of 2 is 5-cell and quality is more of the Schlitz-drinking, Roseanne-loving variety. The RE recommended we defrost them all, so here we go.

I don't really know if I am optimistic, pessimistic, or craptastic about the whole thing. Aidan, for one, is completely convinced it won't work. I'm kind of ambivalent about it-maybe it will, maybe it won't. Maybe the sky will fall, maybe it won't. Maybe people will realize that Paris Hilton is an antibiotic worthy hag, maybe they won't.

But I'm here. I'm pretty relaxed, and we even are evaluating our options-should this fail we'll likely go ahead with another fresh round. We have a long weekend in November where we have to attend a wedding in the States which, while I'm keeping it in mind, I'm not letting the whole schedule for our lives be run by IVF right now.

Strangely, this FET cycle seems to be taking forevvvvver.

That's the price to pay for Charmin thickness, I guess.