The Curse of the Two Week Wait

This week started with such promise.  I was living in the giddy glow that I was sure the procedure worked and the only real issue was how many we would have.  I started using hpts to see if anything would show up yet.  Nothing so far, which isn't really much of a surprise.  It would be really rare to see anything this early.  Only, with each negative result, my certainty that the procedure worked started to chip away.  Then, this morning, I got hit with the sads.  An overwhelming, I keep starting to cry out of nowhere, sad.

It took most of the day to realize that at least part of it is the upcoming anniversary of my miscarriage.  But, as I sat with it, I realized that another part of my problem is my control needs.  See, there's no way to prepare myself for every outcome.  It could be triplets, twins, a singleton, or none at all.  There is simply no emotional preparation that is appropriate for all of those outcomes.  Thus, the solution would be to not prepare and just go with the flow.  The whole "what will be will be" mantra.  Only, that's not me.  I'm a preparer.  Indeed, it's one of the reasons I keep using hpts.  I'm trying to prepare myself.  See, if I get an early positive, it's more likely to be multiples.  If nothing has shown up by Saturday, it's unlikely to be a positive beta and I'm not caught off guard by the results on Monday.  Still, my inability to know anything definitively and the continued negative results only feed my fear that this cycle has failed and that I will learn as much only days after the anniversary of the loss of Oliver.  Needless to say, I am an emotional mess.  Come Monday, all of this waiting and not knowing will be over one way or the other.  I just need to get through five days.  So, I try and comfort myself by looking at my picture.  And I hope.  Because, without control or knowledge, it's all I have.  Still, it's something.

Five days and counting...

Premonitions, Superstitions, and Hope

Yesterday was transfer day.  We had three great embryos, two 9-cell and one 8-cell, all growing like gangbusters.  The doctor was extremely pleased by their quality.  Our official blood tests are the 25th and 27th and chances are good that I will use an hpt before that.  If you had asked me before yesterday if I thought it was going to work, I would have said no.  Yesterday morning brought all of the usual anxiety and excitement and I started to get into the, well, it might work, vibe.  Hearing about how good the embryos are--even betterr than the ones we used in the last two FETs--I could feel my heart cracking open and letting in some hope.  But, it was something else about the visit that broke my heart completely open and has me convinced that this one is going to work.

See, when we went through our fresh cycle with Lil' Bit, we got a picture of the two 4-cell embryos they put in.  Having that picture made the babies seem concrete.  Something to focus on and give solidity to the process.  When we went for our first FET, their camera was broken.  No picture.  I remember being sad that Oilver wouldn't have the cool embryo baby picture Lil' Bit did.  Then we had the miscarriage.  When we went for what we thought was our last FET, I remember thinking that if we didn't get a picture, it wasn't going to work.  I only had the thought once, on the way to the transfer, and it didn't stop me from being hopeful, but I clearly remember thinking to myself after we got the negative result, of course it failed--there was no picture.

Time passed and we moved forward with this transfer.  Once again, on the way to the center, a little voice inside me said, it won't work unless you get a picture.  So, as soon as I was in the transfer room, I asked Dr. D--"Do we get a picture?"  He said yes, and I felt my heart break open.  As soon as he handed it to us, I started quietly crying.  I looked over at Phil and whispered, "It's going to work this time.  Because we have a picture."

Yes, this falls into the realm of superstition.  But I also know that belief and outcome are connected.  Maybe the small voice inside me was wrong.  Maybe my hopes will be dashed.  We'll know soon enough.  For now, I want to bask in the unexpected change I experienced--from negativity to positivity--all from a single picture.  This picture.  Isn't life amazing!

Thunderbirds Are Go

Today was my ultrasound to make sure we're on track for next week.  I got the call this afternoon that everything looks good and was given the go-ahead to contine the protocol.  Woo Hoo!  I am a mere 3 shots and 6 days from transfer.  Along with the call came the million dollar question--how many are we going to transfer?  We decided on three.  I told the nurse, "We're terrified, but it's what Dr. D recommended and that's what we're paying him for, so we're gonna do it."  She laughed and said she understood.  She's pretty much heard it all.  So, we're playing the odds and hoping they work in our favor, but not too much.  Ridin' that roller coaster!  Wheeee!

No Longer a Need

Lil' Bit was sitting in my lap and we were enjoying some snuggle time before I took her to daycare.  I reached around her and gave her a big hug and a smooch on the top of her head.  She reached her arms up and snuggled me back.  Suddenly, I had this overwhelming sense of peace and calm.  I realized I wasn't worried about the upcoming procedure.  I'm didn't feel like my world would end if it didn't work.  In that moment, having another child changed from a "need" to a want.  I still want a sibling for Lil' Bit.  I still want to experience pregnancy one more time.  I still want the opportunity to raise and nurture another life.  But that desperate, gnawing, insatiable need is no longer there.  When I think about pregnant women and those trying to get pregnant, there's no anger; only joy and hope.  I don't know if this feeling will last, or for how long, but I am going to do my best to keep it around.  10 shots, 13 days, and counting...

The Unplanned Plan

I began my shots for this latest FET attempt on January 18.  I wasn't sure what to expect since I have had varied responses to the Lupron.  Fortunately, this time around, Mutant M returned.  Outside of the fact that I still suck at giving myself shots, even after all of this practice, I have had no reactions or responses to the meds.  Yay!

I have been doing my best not to plan and let things fall as they will this time around.  Today, I had my blood drawn for my estrogen levels to make sure my system is adequately suppressed.  The magic number was below 50, and I was at 30.  The nurse noted that last time I was at 29, and commented that I appear to have a pretty consistent response to the medication.  Anyway, because the blood work was good, we set about scheduling the FET.  Dear readers, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.  My FET is scheduled for Valentine's Day.  The day after Ash Wednesday, when Phil's (other) busy season officially begins.  The day one year ago when we were excited because our first beta had come back positive.  I rather expect that, even without being hopped up on hormones, I would have been pretty emotional that day.  Now, it's pretty much guaranteed.  And, with the whole Lenten element this time, there will be plenty of stress to try and avoid.  Still, I can feel the excitement growing; the hope building.  Third time's the charm, right?!  I have been trying to keep my feelings in check, knowing that there are no guarantees.  It doesn't matter.  I am who I am, and I am a person who hopes and dreams big, even if it means my feelings get horribly dashed when things go wrong.

We do have one last, rather important, decision to make, though.  Two or three.  The doctor has recommended we transfer three embryos given my history and age, and I have researched the recommended protocols and confirmed that three is perfectly appropriate under these circumstances.  And, since it increases the odds of success, it increases the odds that I don't ever have to do this again.  So, for many reasons, three is the way to go.  But, it takes us back to the big question--could we handle multiples if they all stuck around?  The answer is, technically, yes.  We have the ability and capacity to do it.  Nevertheless, it would be extremely challenging.  Certainly, I am less afraid that I would actually end up with triplets now that I have had a completely failed cycle and knowing that, each time we go back, the embryos we are using are considered of lower grade than the ones previously.  Still the idea of triplets scares me.  Enough to stick with two?  I'm not sure yet, but we have to decide soon; probably within the next 12 days so that the center knows how many to thaw.

Even so, the news is good and exciting.  I start taking the hormones tonight.  We are underway.  The 18-day countdown has begun!  And so, I leave you with my hope, my wish, and my sense of humor.  Because, you see, I have figured out what I am giving up for Lent this year.  I am giving up not being pregnant.

Novel Issues, or Why My Love Affair with Romance Novels is Waning

I'm going to start with a confession.  I am a lifelong romance novel addict.  I started purchasing teen romance novels when I was 11 and, by 14, my best friend and I were devouring bodice-rippers that featured Fabio on the cover.  These days, I tend to prefer contemporary romance, but I have read all different kinds through the years.  The ones set in older times have always had something of a "rape-fantasy" quality to them, which is why I don't really care for them.  But, although certainly not true of all of them, I have come across more and more contemporary romance novels that appear to feed into a culture of rape.  As someone raising a daughter, this absolutely terrifies me.

But these are just stories, right?  They aren't real, so it doesn't matter.  But it does!  How many generations of young women are we still working to reprogram because they were raised on princess myths and are still waiting for Prince Charming to arrive.  I remember when I read the Twilight series.  I really enjoyed the storytelling, but there was no take-away message from those books.  I don't want my daughter to think that any of the relationships in those books are appropriate.  And the truth is, we can write great books and great stories without these underlying rape myths that would lost nothing in the telling.

Here are a few examples:

First, what is with describing consensual (and, given the story context, pleasurable) kissing as "assaulting" or "assailing" someone?  Although every state has its own definition, at common law, an assault is an intentional act that causes another to fear immediate harmful or offensive contact.  If the kissing is enjoyable and mutual, there is nothing harmful or offensive about it.  Thus, assault is not even an appropriate word.  The kissing might be confusing, overwhelming, intense, unrelenting.  Who knows!  There are so many words out there.  Use a thesaurus if you have to, but for goodness sake, quit using criminal words to describe it!  Save "assault" for when someone is being kissed and doesn't want to be.

Next, there seem to be a lot of stories where the "hero" can no longer control himself and just has to kiss (or fondle) the woman.  But, if the woman doesn't want to be kissed, this is more than just assault--this is battery.  And yet, our "heroines" always capitulate.  They are stiff for a few seconds and then "give in."  I am amazed at how many books describe the men as "forcing" the woman's mouth open with his tongue and the woman just sighs and wraps her arms around him, begging for more.  Really?!  This is what we want people to think is appropriate behavior?  How is this not teaching men that forcing themselves on women will ultimately make the women respond in a positive way?  Furthermore, why is it that all of these fine, upstanding "heroes" suddenly lose all ability to control their conduct around these women.  It just reinforces the absurd belief that women cause rape simply by existing.  Just by being around these man, they have so tempted him that he cannot control himself and is simply unable to conform his conduct to the appropriate societal standards.

I don't know that these authors mean to give these types of messages.  Perhaps they are unconsciously including them because our society is already conditioned to accept them.  I don't have any answers.  Maybe it doesn't bother anyone else, but it sure as heck bothers me, and if I don't speak up and share my discomfort and concern, nobody knows.  Still, I'd love to have some feedback.  Do you see the same thing and have the same concerns?  Do you have any ideas how to "fix" it?  Do you think I'm overreacting?

(Nearly) Impossible Medicine

The other night, Lil' Bit came home from daycare looking a little rough.  Gone was her happy, bubbly, sassy self, replaced by a slow, sad, quiet child who didn't want to do anything.  She was sick.  That much was clear.  But, her nose was clear and she just had a little cough, so we weren't too worried.  She went to bed early and with little fuss.  Around 9:30 or so, we heard her crying.  When we went to check on her, we discovered she had thrown up and had a raging fever.  Her face was red and it was clear she felt horrible.  Since this is the kid who didn't even break a fever when she had RSV, we cleaned her up, packed her in the car, and headed for the ER.  Her fever was 101 under the arm, which meant it was probably higher than that, so they took her back to a room.  Long story short, although she got the flu shot, she tested positive for Influenza type A.  They prescribed Tamiflu for her, along with Motrin and Tylenol every four hours to keep the fever down, and we arrived back home around 2:00 a.m.

Later that morning, Phil goes to pick up the Tamiflu, only to discover that none of the local pharmacies carry it.  He drives 30 minutes into the city to go to a hospital pharmacy where, once they got the prescription, it took them an hour to compound it.  Turns out, any of the local pharmacies could have compounded it--they just don't, so they say they don't carry it.  Phil then drives the 30 minutes back home.  So, after a three-hour production to get the Tamiflu, we have to figure out how to get all of this medicine into Lil' Bit.  See, if you recall, Lil' Bit already gets medication 7 times a day.  The new meds would require an additional 6-8 meds a day.  So, we were now looking at 13-15 medications PER DAY!  For a child who is only up 14 hours, this averages to almost one per hour.  Worse, anything that has to be taken by syringe, or any way other than the way we do her regular meds, and she throws a fit and won't take them.  It makes me angry that doctors fail to take into consideration the practicality of what they are telling parents to do.  From the doctor's perspective, they have dispensed their wisdom.  It is now my problem, as the parent, to figure out how to implement this, seemingly impossible, regimen on a two-year-old.

So, first, we made a chart and figured out when each of these meds had to happen, and figured out we could probably manage 13, but no more.  As a result, she gets five meds between 5 and 6:30 a.m.; four throughout the day; and another four between 5 and 6:30 p.m.  We discovered that pills were better than liquids and that, at the age of 2, there are pill forms of Tylenol and Motrin she can have and (if it's grape flavored) will take.  As for the Tamiflu, which is in syrup form, Phil figured out a way to mix it with fruit puree and make it a single spoonful so that it looks exactly like her regular med doses.  Fortunately, we're only supposed to have to do this for five days.  Honestly, once these five days are over, I imagine the old routine of only 7 meds will seem quite simple!

Still, it's frustrating that the onus is all on the parents to figure out how to follow the doctor's instructions.  What if there had been no pills and we still had to try and force-feed Lil' Bit all of the new meds, the result of which is her throwing up (so there's no benefit from the meds) and her stopping taking her regular meds?  With advances in medicine, surely there's some way to do patches or some other transmission method other than heavily-flavored syrups that makes treating children easier.  In the meantime, we'll pray that Lil' Bit doesn't get sick enough to need more meds than she already takes.  But, if she does, at least we have a few more tools in our parenting trick bag.