Things Can Only Get Better

***Warning--the following includes what some may consider over-sharing***

Hello, 2013.  We are not off to a great start, but that is not entirely unexpected.  I previously mentioned that I was starting the year with major outpatient surgery.  More specifically, I had major hemorrhoid surgery.  Thus, the very slow, very painful, recovery I am currently experiencing is a literal pain in the ass.  I badly needed this surgery.  When I went to the doctor for my surgical evaluation after a visit to the urgent care for two very thrombosed hemorrhoids, he indicated that although their policy is to avoid a hemorrhoidectomy at all costs, that was not an option for me.  After the surgery was done, the doctor reiterated to Phil that the surgery had definitely been necessary.  So here I sit, er lay, trying to recover.  I am having to be patient and sit (lay) still and it's driving me bonkers!  Phil is doing an amazing job taking care of Lil' Bit, but I feel like I'm falling down on the job.  That's right.  I am feeling guilty because I am recovering from surgery!  Cognitively, I know that's twisted, but it doesn't stop me from having those feelings.  Although I haven't figured out how to stop them, I do have a better understanding of how parents forget self-care.  Thus, one of the things I am trying to do while I recover is make sure I am taking care of myself.  After all, had I taken better care of myself earlier in life, I likely would not have needed the surgery.  So, I am trying to use the painful recovery as an object lesson in making sure I do a better job at self-care.  Here's hoping!

Also approaching is the date I start my shots for our next FET.  Honestly, this date will not come soon enough.  I have at least eight friends and relatives who are all pregnant.  Add in all the celebrities--Duchess Kate, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson--and I am an emotional puddle.  On the plus side, I am no longer angry at those who are pregnant.  I am joyful that they are happy and, at least as far as I know, were easily successful in their endeavor.  Still, I am tired of being happy for everyone else.  My joy for them seems to only compound my anger and frustration at being stuck in a holding pattern.  When is it my turn?  Why am I forced to pay thousands of dollars to do what reality stars on MTV do by accident?  While friends and bloggers I follow are all closing down their baby-making factories and having surgery to prevent any more kids, I am angrily fighting against time to get one more in before the clock stops.

So, what has my angry, pitying self done during this recovery period (when not working from home, that is)?  Tortured myself with episodes of TLC's A Baby Story, that's what.  So, let's recap.  I'm in pain and feeling guilty for taking the time necessary to recover from surgery while feeling totally inadequate because my infertility is keeping me from that which I desperately want and my only solution keeps failing.  So, come on January 18.  Get here so I can get started; so I can hope and dream again; so I can feel like I'm doing something productive--something, hopefully, REproductive.  Save me from myself.  Let's make this a year to remember--hopefully for the better.


9 days and counting...

Stepping Off the Platform

So, here we are.  Day 21.  I have just completed my first shot of my last IVF cycle.  I'm still surprised by how hard it is to give myself shots.  I thought I would be less anxious by now.  But, no.  No matter how many shots I have given myself--and each time the count goes up by at least one--I still have to psych myself up.  In fact, this one felt harder to convince myself to do than the very first shot I did 2 1/2 years ago.  I don't know if it's because of the finality of this cycle, or just my inherent survival instincts telling me to avoid pain.  Whatever it is, though, I overcame it and gave myself the shot.  Go me!  I marked the occasion with my traditional smiley face on my shot calendar, and now, I will go find something in my feel-better box to reward myself!

But the fact remains, I am standing at the beginning of the end.  My last chance to experience pregnancy and carry another child.  My last chance at a sibling for Lil' Bit.  My last heartbreak if it fails or I miscarry.  This ride is both familiar and brand new.  Although I know what to expect for the most part, I have no idea how knowing this is the last time will affect all of those experiences.  But I am ready.  And so, it is with anxiety, fear, trembling, trepidation, and excitement, but most of all, trust in our decision, that I step off the platform, sit down in the seat, and pull down the lap bar to secure myself for my last ride on the fertility roller coaster.

Shot calendar with a single smiley face

The Final Countdown

[Those of you who listened to pop music in the 80's probably now have a song cootie stuck in your head.  You're welcome :)]

Although I've been somewhat quiet on the IVF front, recently, we've actually been doing a lot behind the scenes.  Now that we've made some decisions, I thought I would share those with you.

First, we spent the last month or two talking about how many embryos we wanted to use.  We talked about using three since this was our last round and we wanted to increase our chances of a "take home baby" (as opposed to simply achieving pregnancy).  We spoke with our doctor and he calculated that the increased risk of multiples was 4-5% and the increased chance of success was 5-10%.  So--the increased success rate was greater than the increased risk.  He had no objections to our using three.  The choice was up to us.  We prayed, thought, and talked about it for a while and we both reached the same place.  We don't think we can handle three.  Although the risk is small, there's no fraction of a kid.  If we hit the jackpot, we come home with triplets.  We agreed that twins would be tricky, but are willing to take that risk because both previous cycles we used two embryos and only one implanted.  Obviously, there's still a chance of triplets, even with two--one or both could split into identicals.  But, that chance is extremely slim.  Like, lightning bolt thin.  Certainly, much slimmer than the risk of multiples when transferring three embryos.  More important, we both still believe that we'll get what we're supposed to have.  If we really trust that, we'll stick with the regular plan.  Changing things up now really feels like inviting trouble.  So, we both agreed to stick with two.

Second, we agreed to go ahead with this round.  I can hear you now--"That's not news."  Well, actually, it is.  Although we previously agreed to one more cycle several months ago, we decided that it would be a good idea, now that the time is upon us, to reconsider our decision and see if that was still where we were, rather than just move forward because of the momentum of a choice previously made.  I wanted to honor any second thoughts either of us was having.  It's much easier not to start a cycle than stop it, and we certainly couldn't return a baby.  So, this was the time to decide whether we still wanted to go forward.  We know it's going to be hard.  We know everything about our lives will change again if we're successful.  But, there's so much that we want for ourselves and Lil' Bit that just doesn't happen without another child.  So, we've reaffirmed our decision to move forward.

That brings us to today.  Today is day 1 of the pre-procedure month.  Twenty days from now, I will take the first of my last rounds of shots.  This is it!  The countdown to our final attempt.  The countdown toward change.  The countdown toward shots!  The countdown for our last ride on the roller coaster.  After this, the park closes and we go home.  It's joyful and sad all at the same time.  I am nervous, anxious, excited!  I can't wait to find out what's going to happen.  But, as we move through the corrals, listening to the shrieks and cries of those already on the ride, waiting for our turn to board, I want to take time and wish luck to all those in line with us--whether in front or behind.  None of us knows how this will turn out.  Just know that I hope for your success and I wish you joy and happiness no matter what the outcome.  If you need it, you will always have a friend here on the ground who has been there, who knows what it's like, and who sends you love and comfort.  Here's to you, wherever you are in your journey.  And here's to me, as I set out on a final ride.

To Pee or Not to Pee...

First, the update:  Today was my last shot.  Yay!  *happy dance*  I'm now four days from transfer.  Very exciting!  Tomorrow I drop my estrogen back to 2 per day and start progesterone 3 times a day.  Tuesday I add in some steroids and antibiotics and Thursday I get Valium :)   Have to set a lot of reminders on my phone to remember to take all these pills, but post-transfer I'm back to just 2--progesterone and estrogen.

Now, my conundrum.  Post-transfer, I am subjected to the tortuous two-week-wait (tww) while we wait to see if pregnancy is achieved.  Because I'm having an FET, I think it's merely a 12-day wait, but it still feels too long.  Anyway, the question is, should I just wait for the blood test, which will give me one, surefire answer?  Or should I try an HPT (home pregnancy test) at some point.  If I try an HPT, when should I try it?  Do I have the fortitude to see a negative?  But wouldn't it be so crazy to get to see a positive?  See, last time I didn't have this issue because with a "fresh" cycle, you take something called a trigger shot, which is HCG.  And, since HCG is what pregnancy tests pick up, you don't want to use an HPT because you can get a false-positive.  With a frozen cycle, there's no HCG shot, so no risk of false positive.  But, I have to go back to the first question I asked.  Do I have the fortitude to see a negative?  What if I just got 12 of them and peed on one every day.  Kind of like an experiment--what's the earliest pregnancy shows up (if there is one); do they get darker over time?  I know this sounds stupid, but I've never gotten to see a positive HPT.  Last time, I was afraid I would jinx things if I tried it, so I never did.  As hard as the 12-day wait is, I think it would be easier to just wait for the answer from the blood test.  But the whole experiment things seems so cool and it may be my only chance to try.

I still have a few days to decide.  So, what say you, dear readers?  Stick with the blood test?  Try an HPT?  Do more than one?  What would you do?

[And, for those of you dying for more information than you ever wanted to know about pee sticks, go here.]

Dr. Seuss

In order to keep myself motivated, I have been posting the completion of each shot on my Facebook page.  My first statement was simply, "Shot one is done."  When I went to post about shot two, I decided I wanted to make them all rhyme for as long as I could.  Thus, I posted, "Shot two is through."  After shot four, a friend of mine asked whether this was a Dr. Seuss book.  I thought that was funny and irreverent and, therefore, the perfect thing for my blog.  And so, without further ado, I present to you:

Shots for Tots

Shot one is done.
Shot two is through.
How many self-shots can you do?

Shot three is history.
Shot four is out the door.
I can tell Phil didn't watch, he isn't on the floor.

I survived shot number five.
I kicked shot number six.
How much longer can I keep up with rhyming antics?

Shot seven tests my inner will.
Shot eight bring wishes for a pill.
Yet still I poke, and hope don't choke and, 'lo, improve my skill.

Still doing fine after shot nine.
Shot ten disturbed my zen.
But I press on, 'til meds are gone--again, again, again.

Eleven shots are now complete.
Shot twelve does not feel like a treat.
But for a baby on the way, these wretched shots are here to stay.

Unlucky thirteen's shot has come.
With fourteen we are halfway done.
It seems I cannot be more brief, and so we all wait for relief.

Shot fifteen turned out okay.
Shot sixteen has had its day.
But more shots come because until done my doctors I obey.

Although eighteen feels like the billionth,
at least we're in procedure month.

Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one
Would they be easier with a blowgun?

Twenty-two and three and four,
All the pain I must ignore.

Twenty-five and six and seven,
Almost done, that sounds like heaven.

Twenty-eight is finally here.
"No more shots," I shout and cheer.

Four more days until bed rest.
Then twelve more until blood test.

Shots are bad, but waiting's worse.
This whole thing feels like a curse.

If the phone call brings good news, I can go buy baby shoes!
If results are negative, moods will be much less festive.

But either way, I will have shown,
I'm so much stronger than I'd known.

And so concludes this counting tale.
Of what my FET entails.

And We're Off...

Well, I did it.  I just gave myself my first shot for this cycle.  It took a lot.  More than I expected.  Apparently, it made no difference that I had reached the point of being blase about giving myself shots by the end of the gestational diabetes thing.  Having had almost 14 months of not having to give myself a shot reverted me back to square one.  Well, not entirely square one--I knew I could do it.  I flinched when I did it, though.  Phil had come up to give me moral support and I couldn't do it with him watching.  Had to go to the other room.  But, I did it.  Yay!

I set up my calendar like last time and awarded myself my smiley-face reward.  I realized this evening that I have not yet made a feel better box.  I think part of why I forgot to make it is because of the sheer reduction in the number of injections I have to give myself.  We're looking at approximately 28 total shots.  That's like nothing compared to last time.  Still, I need to make my box soon because I know I will have hard days.  I will likely order most of its contents from Amazon because it's easier to have everything shipped to the house than go out shopping these days.  Don't know what I'll put in it this time, though.  No candy (drat!) as I am really trying to cut back on the chances of diabetes again and no books because I already have a stack a mile high that I can't seem to get around to.  Movies and clothes I suppose.  I'm open to suggestions.  But, I digress.  We're on our way!  Baby #2 (and 3?) here we come!