31 Is the New 21

Yesterday was my birthday. In true birthday form, I was in tears before 7am, driving along on my way to work and crying because I had, stupidly, peed on an hcg stick before leaving and it was, naturally, negative with no chance of there being any sort of trace of hcg anywhere. Never mind the lingering concept of knowing that this is not where I wanted to be at 31 nor did I ever expect to be here. Forget the fact that I am being pumped full of the 'mones and am therefore about a billion percent more emotional than normal. Nope, the tears were brought on by my full-on stupidity of peeing on a godforsaken stick before I went to work on the day of my birthday, 6 days post frozen transfer.

 By the time I arrived at work, I'd already screwed up my makeup and my entire day. My boss fully forgot my birthday (again) which is fine, it's a week after New Year's, I don't expect anyone to care or remember when I go out of my way to make everyone else's birthdays special (hello, bitter? party of one). The Facebook notos flooded in but really, do any of those people give a shit? And how much has Facebook ruined our culture, by the way, when my own mother and brother thought a simple post on my wall was going to suffice?

Yes, I'm full of self-pity mixed with wallowing over the probability of another negative beta mixed with self-sabotage from forcing the negative test upon myself. Luckily the boys I watch were sweet as pie all day, making me toy cakes and just as I was about to "blow them out" saying, "No no, it's not ready yet" and running to grab some other drool and snot covered toy to add. The stress of the day must've shown on my face because one of the 2 year olds looked at me while I was changing his diaper and asked, "Are you otay, (my name)?" I nearly lost it right there but just planted as many kisses and hugs upon him as he would allow before running off to be a race car.

I work long hours on Wednesdays but this day, somehow, mercifully went by at a bearable speed and by the time I got home, I just wanted to curl up with my dogs and my husband and cry. The fact that there were NO birthday cards in the mailbox ensured plenty of tears by the time the dogs greeted me (yes, I'm a spoiled brat, but it was my birthday and I will cry if I need to). My grandmother, who is 90 and is always ever so punctual with a card and a check for any occasion, is in the hospital so the disappointment of not having a card was then replaced with guilt for being so self-centered when my grandmother is sick, cue more tears.

By the time Husband walked through the door - with an embarrassingly large bouquet of flowers - I was a balled up, bawling mess on the floor next to the dog bed. Husband is ever the optimist about our infertility battle so he simply held me and told me I was being dumb about the testing, then he said something that really broke me, he said, "don't you think I blame myself for this every day?" Great. At this point I think I had cried myself into a lower immune system and all of the snots and coughs and grossness the kids I watch have rained upon me for the past two weeks caught up with me and I became sick within literally minutes of my husband coming home. Because, why not? It's my birthday, dammit. Let's cap off a fantastic day with an annoying cold and no appetite. Wah wah wah.

Now I am here all stuffy and gross, supposed to be renewing my driver's license with THE hottest DMV photo of all time. Looks like I'm driving without a license til next week.

Frozen Transfer

I've officially survived my first frozen embryo transfer (FET), both remaining embryos survived the thaw, and, bonus, Husband and I survived the drive in the beginnings of a blizzard. I was not hopeful that both embryos would make the thaw, so just the fact that they are both at home in my uterus is a big relief. We arrived early, despite the bad weather, and the entire building was a bit of a ghost town. I came prepared with a liter bottle of water this time and had to stop drinking a few exits before our turn off because I was already starting to feel full. 

Since there had been so many cancellations and issues with the weather, we hardly had time to sit in the waiting room before the extremely flustered receptionist* brought us to the atrium where all of the procedures are done. When we walked through the door, there was just one nurse and not one patient in sight in the normally bustling place, she brought us back to the transfer rooms and we did all of the normal checkin stuff plus I had to ask: what do they do tomorrow when the storm is supposed to be at it's worst? Turns out because of the holidays, they only have one egg retrieval scheduled for tomorrow - transfers have leeway to be pushed a day although not always ideal - and then the monitoring that couldn't be moved would have to carry on so basically they all have to get there. 

The nurse then informed me that my own RE was doing the procedures today - I can't even tell you the relief I felt after the last RE lying about the quality of the embryos, plus all of the catheter debacles during transfer, which had led to quite a bit of pain and cramping for 24 hours post transfer. Plus my RE is my people and we have a relationship, of course, whereas last RE and I just have a "look at my vagina" type relationship going on. I was quickly seen by the ultrasound tech who assured me that my bladder was at ideal levels and to hang in there because I was next but she didn't know how soon that would be. Husband and I sat and chatted and laughed until I finally had to tell him to just let me breathe or else I would pee the table. I started to try meditative breathing but within a minute there was a knock on the door and we were ready to go.

I got the picture of the embryos (blasts) which I always feel like they are expecting some kind of fabulous reaction out of me but I always feel like, "do I have to hold this?" and we quickly got to work. My RE did try the first kind of catheter last RE tried first but only made one quick attempt and then called for another kind rather than poking and prodding the way last RE had. Within seconds the catheter was in place and the embryologist was in the room with my teeny tiny embies and before I knew it we were watching them blast onto the screen ane into my uterus. By this point I had to pee so badly I just wanted to close my eyes and tune everyone out but the embryologist and ultrasound tech were being so kind and assuring and wishing us well that I was honestly touched. 

Ten minutes later we were making our way out - funny tidbit- the women's bathroom was occupied so I ran into the men's room in the hallway only to be greeted by a man of at least 80 when I stepped back out. He muttered, "I didn't know you were a man!" and I had to giggle as I took off for the elevator and the excruciating ride home. Within ten minutes I felt like I needed to relieve my bladder again and there were so many mother effing cars on the road that should not have been. By the time we got to our exit I made husband pull over at McDonald's so I could run in and hover over a pee-stained seat (seriously ladies? How do you even do that?) and obviously so I could get some French fries. We were home in just over two hours, round trip. Now I'm chuckling to myself as I tell my husband, "ugh, I feel so terrible that I can't help you shovel today!" Mwahaha fuck that. Dogs cuddled up, tv and Netflix all to myself: being snowed in is going to be great so long as I can get out by tomorrow afternoon to distract myself from the two week wait crazies. 

*When we walked in, the receptionist was on the phone with an egg donor calling from Florida who was supposed to be coming in. Can you imagine? What do they even do? She isn't getting a flight here any time this weekend. Then we heard quite the earful about how the poor receptionist is months away from retirement and gets worked up over this weather. I must make a note to send her a thank you for being there. 

Resolutions

The only resolution I've ever kept - or made - in the past ten years is to not make New Year's resolutions. I hate the idea of them, can't stand the incessant discussion of them during the week between Christmas and New Year's Day and I really hate when people think you want to know what theirs are. Yet I don't think there's anything wrong with resolving to do something at any time during the year and trying your best to stick with it. It's just that no one in your office - or on Facebook or Twitter - wants to know that you're going "gluten free" this year. I'm sorry, not sorry.

All of that being said, I can't seem to avoid the theme and have been working on bettering myself recently and thought I'd share with you what I've been doing to improve myself (yes, I realize I'm a huge hypocrite but since I've been doing these for a few weeks, it doesn't truly count). 

In no particular order

- Meditating or taking a beat to breathe when I feel ready to snap at someone or when something beyond my control is annoying me. 

- Relinquishing control. Hoo hoo, this is a tough one but I have to learn when things are beyond my control and when to just let go. 

- Yoga. I never knew how much yoga coulda make me sore and make me feel amazingly relaxed at the same time! I've been wasting so much time cardio-ing and lifting in the gym; who knew? 

- Keeping my mouth shut when I have nothing nice to say or nothing to positive to contribute to the conversation. I spent most of my teens and early twenties teaching myself to assert myself and speak up for what I think is right, now it's all about tailoring that trait to know when it's worth it and when it is all for not (spoiler alert for the passive, it's usually not worth it unless you need to speak up to family or your coworkers). 

- Stop allowing the actions of others to effect me so. I realize this goes along with "relinquishing control" but I feel it bears repeating this specifically. 

- Stop comparing myself to others. The inner monologue in my head would make Perez Hilton cringe, I swear. 

- Do a perfect winged liner on every try. 

What are your resolutions or ways you feel you can better yourself or your infertility situation/outlook?

How To Survive the Holidays

The holidays can be particularly hard on IFers with reminders everywhere of the life we wish we had. This year I tried my hardest to grin and bear it and observe the times I felt ok versus the times I just wanted to crawl under the covers until at least January 2nd. What I learned is that really the best bet would've been to book a Carribbean trip from the 24th through my birthday for just my husband and myself on some adults only resort where the drinks are all inclusive. Of course that's usually Not feasible and I've since found out that my FET will, in fact, be on January 2nd hence making the trip even less possible in theory. So what can we do during the holidays when the pain of what is not yet to be gets unbearable? 

1) Try to focus on making the holidays as wonderful as possible on your significant other or family members. I really foud joy in trying to find the perfect presents for everyone and watching them open them.

2) Do as much online shopping as possible. You do not want to be in one of those "negative beta" type moods and bump into someone you know waiting inline for Santa with her newborn. Or anyone with a newborn for that matter. 

3) if you can afford it, Treat Yo Self here and there whilst shopping for friends and family. Chances are non of your ungrateful siblings are going to get you anything you actually want anyway, why not have something under the tree from you to you? 

4) Know that it's ok to say "no". You can sit out events that you don't feel like going to: no one wants a Debbie Downer at their holiday party anyway so if you know that you just can't grin and bear it for a few hours, give yourself the okay to skip it, send a bottle of wine with your significant other or send flowers or a note the next day. It's not as much about you as you think and people will have a great time with or without you, no matter how awesome you are.

5) If you must attend an event that you're not feeling up to, suck it up and tell yourself that it won't be as bad as you thnk. It most likely won't and if you're really worried about it, practice a "worse case scenario" scene in your head on the car ride over there: imagining that your hair lights on fire or that every single person in the party is pregnant except you is never going to happen but if you imagine it will, it will make you feel better about whatever does occur and ensure that you will survive. 

6) Do something for others. Donate time, money or used items to a shelter - animal or homeless! It will open your perspective greatly. 

7) DON'T get caught up in what you don't have. It's hard, I know, trust me but when you start thinkng about how you wish you could leave cookies out for Santa or obsessing about what you wish you could buy your nonexistent kids or looking at those darn  Pinterest pins that make holidays look so perfect that really no real busy mom does anyway, you're not doing yourself any favors and you're not allowing yourself to live in the moment and therefore missing out on the potentially beautiful things that are happening around you. 

8) Start a tradition with your significant other and/or other child free friends. Naked Christmas Eve? Yes please. Drunken hot tubbing on New Year's Eve? Why not? Live it up now before you have to worry abut babysitters and feedings and such. 

9) BREATHE. It will be over before you know it and in no time this entire period will be just a memory while you're celebrating with your own sweet little family. 

Bah Humbug

                                     

That's pretty much all. I have gone shopping and gotten some gifts for people but mostly ended up with more stuff for me (because I'm buying my happiness right now until I have a child). I was also ordering some stuff from Amazon and making my Christmas wish list and I found my old Amazon Wish list that I made so long ago with Patriots maternity shirts and little Patriots onesies and some ornaments that I would've used to announce my pregnant to my parents, if the timing ever lined up. Delete. Oh to be that fucking optimistic again.

Now the idea of a Christmas at my parents house with no kids, the first year without our family dog and with no good news to share, and with no husband as usual as he has to work holidays; it's enough to make me want to crawl under the covers and not come out until January. Although early January brings my 31st birthday and another depressing milestone without kids.

Sorry to be a Debbie Downer and venting, I've actually been feeling pretty great and having a great time just not being consumed with IF/IVF for a bit but when it comes to the holiday season, I can't. And don't even get me started on the excessive family holiday posting on Facebook that has started already. How much can you honestly be enjoying taking your kid to see Santa if you're spending the whole time Facebooking about it? Like I said, Bah freaking Humbug.

Five Stages of Negative Beta Grief

As I'm sure you can infer from the title, I received word on Thursday afternoon that I am not pregnant. It is now Saturday and I'm just starting to feel that I can type this out without coming completely undone.

As I lay on the floor crying before Husband came home, I thought about how I would be able to get over the grief and move on in time to see anyone outside of the two of us. Being "in the closet" has plenty of advantages for us, but when grieving over the loss of something that wasn't actually yours or even real yet, it's hard to explain to anyone why or what you're grieving over. No one sends flowers or cards, there is no obituary, nothing to eulogize, and nothing to mourn for except for the loss of what you thought was meant to be.

The stages of grieving over a failed cycle have been different for me than the well known Kubler- Ross model*; it's really hard to "Deny" when a doctor tells you that you're not pregnant based on bloodwork done that morning. For me, the initial reaction was, "try to be strong until I get off the phone. Then I can cry," yet I hardly heard a word the nurse said because all I could feel was Devastation.

Does anger come next? I cannot speak for others but it's hard to be angry at anyone but myself, and yet anger did not come after Devastation.. For me, I was more angry as I was waiting and waiting for hours longer than they should have made me wait to take the call. I took my blood test at 6:10am and did not hear back from them until nearly 3pm, but once the phone rang there was no possible way anger could beat the anxiety that was then replaced by devastation. It's difficult for me to be angry when you're grieving something that never was. Anguish describes this time best.

It's impossible to bargain a negative beta. I suppose the argument can be made that it is also not reasonable to do so after a death, but I felt that I had done all of my infertility bargaining previous to the test results, "if I do this, I will be pregnant", "God, please please let me be pregnant, I'll never swear again." What can I offer up now? The test is done and nothing that I gave over in my bargains was accepted. No, anguish does not turn into bargaining, it turns into something much worse and uglier: Blame. On myself, on my RE, on my dogs for touching my stomach, on the random lady who bumped into me at the store, I'm extremely ashamed to concede that I felt tiny flashes of blame towards Husband but mostly I blame myself. I blame myself for the stress I put myself under, for taking the two weeks off of work, for going too fast up the stairs one day, for what I ate and didn't eat and for what I've done or haven't done in my life to cause karma to take her vicious vendetta against me now. 

Depression is a reoccurring theme throughout infertility. I'm not clinically depressed by any standard, but I do get down about all things babies and infertility. Disappointment is what I have been dealing with. Disappointment sounds like such a tame word compared with "devastation" or "anguish" but when you're thinking in terms of not being able to share happy news with loved ones, or with spending another holiday season without a baby in your belly, disappointment is a powerful stab that leaves it's mark. 

If we were mourning the death of a loved one, we would undoubtedly come to Accept our loss. Usually after the services and the body has been buried or ashes spread into the ocean, many people describe feeling a release or a calming acceptance that they've said goodbye and that their family or friend is laid to rest. Yet, to task me to accept that I am not pregnant? No. There is no acceptance that I can't have a baby after all my husband and I have put ourselves through for years and for this cycle alone. Crackheads and murderers have children; I cannot and will not accept that I cannot have a baby. Yes, this cycle failed, but I won't accept that, either. I want answers and I want a solution. There is also no "final " stage of mourning a failed cycle until the next cycle comes along and brings some hope. Until then, all things infertility and fertility related will make me Apathetic. Many women in the infertility world have said that it is extremely difficult to get excited when they are about to start a new cycle. The feeling of apathy comes from the grief that we've become so familiar with and have learned to brace ourselves for. Yes, hope will reappear and push me into another cycle, however, - call it self-preservation - with each negative test, a little piece of me breaks off and a fraction of the amount of hope I had last cycle is now taken over by apathy. 

* Otherwise known as the 5 stages of grief

The Two Week Wait

Those who have not been through the hell of a 2 week wait (aka "2WW in the infertility and TTC world) will not understand the agony of a woman waiting to take a pregnancy test (either by peeing on a stick or by blood test known as a "beta"). I'd heard the ladies on the infertility boards clucking about the wait but usually was so jealous that they even had gotten that far, I tended to ignore them completely. "Weak!" I thought. "Those girls are ridiculous! With their symptom spotting and their neurosis." Ahh to be blissfully ignorant once more.

Here is an insider tip for anyone just beginning to navigate the world of infertility: the "2WW" will turn you; it will change you into someone indiscernible from your current self, someone your current self may actually loathe. Having the two weeks off of work has not helped the situation at all. During the week it is just me, alone with my thoughts and with an endless ocean of internet knowledge and myth at my fingertips. Lucky for me, this week I am even without car because, wouldn't it fit for my husband's truck to break down this week? Not that I'd be going out much anyway, as going out in public has proven nerve wracking enough after a particular-run in with the masses of Red Sox fans fighting for World Series Championship gear last Wednesday (in all seriousness though, when you're in a crowded store and you're talking on your cell phone and bumping into people because of said-cell phone conversation, you're a fucking asshole).

A few other "anxieties" I've accrued over the past 8 days:

• Sneezing/Coughing (can't I pop the embryos out? I mean, I know it's not supposedly possibly but what if it happened to me?)
• Peeing too hard
• Doing #2
• Having strangers bump into me
• Having strangers anywhere near me (why are people so dirty? What kind of animal sneezes into her hand in the year 2013? Use your damn elbow)
• Having my dogs run/walk/sleep on my belly. All 10lbs combined of them cannot be good for development, right? 

Egg Retrieval

           

Fourteen eggs retrieved yesterday! On top of that we have our 18 frozen. Husband has been extremely nervous; I've never seen him this way- the anesthesiologist even commented on how nervous he seemed before I went in. Having been through the process not too long before plus the lower doses of stims, recovery so far has been night and day from last time; I been went to work today, I was tired but not too painful. 

It was all made worth it when I received word that 19 eggs fertilized!! Eight fresh and 11 frozen. I can't even believe it. The embryologist had had to come back and get another sample from husband again yesterday, saying there was zero motility. We do have some frozen sperm but not much and we don't know how his second sample panned out or how much fresh vs frozen sperm they used but I can't begin to obsess about those details. I need to use all of my energy on sending positive thoughts to the embryos in the lab: grow babies grow. 

Shots Shots Shots

http://youtu.be/XNtTEibFvlQ

I am pretty worn out and every time I've tried to write this, it is just complete garbage but I want to keep a record of my cycle so I've got it in a log form. 

Dear Diary, 

Sat

     - 6:30am baseline bloodwork and ultrasound

     - Started week 2 Couch to 5k (C25k) program

     - Start Gonal F injections, stick the bad boy in there like a champ (Gonal F has no sting and the needle is tiny there usually is no mark and no pain

Sun

    - Big fucking last second drive win by the Pats, big fucking walk off hit win for the Sox; late fucking night

    - Gonal F

Mon

- Walk into 8am sick kids 

Tues

- 630 bloodwork

- Hear the baby of three I watch waking up with nasty cough and breathing; it's croup. Scary shit. 

- Add Menopur

Wed

- Getting sick of taking care of sick kids

-Add Ganirelix 

Thurs

-Day off but had to go in for monitoring 

Sat

-Monotoring

Sun

- Monitoring and word that I don't have to come in until my Retrieval on Wednesday!!

Monday

- Hcg Trigger 

Got My Meds Part Deuce

Here they are, in all their glory. I now need two containers for all of the meds from both cycles and sharps but this is strictly this week's arrival. Is this really happening again?

Bonus: caught in the middle of fall decorating. My house is a shitshow but it smells like Witches Brew candles sooooo

Ready To Initiate Phase 2

Since I'm a glutton for punishment, I spent a good portion of my afternoon perusing my ex boyfriend's wife's Facebook albums (their kid just had a birthday). Don't get me wrong: I know I dodged a major bullet by not having a kid with that loser, but as I'm sitting on my couch with my dogs being a lazy slob all weekend, although there's nowhere else I'd rather be, the feeling of emptiness is palpable. I want to be throwing birthday parties for my own kids and teaching my own kids all sorts of stuff and watching them develop, the way I have for the countless kids I've nannied.

I've been asked multiple times if I'm "excited" to start IVF number two and everytime I try to answer the query, all I can think about is wanting to skip ahead to pregnancy. Gone is the joy I get from sleeping in on the weekends - as I wake up and quietly drink my coffee, I long for a crying baby to soothe or for eager toddlers waiting to get a move on a fun family activity (Apple picking anyone?). There are so many activities I miss out on because the idea of going ice skating, to the fair, to an amusement park, etc feels so depressing without a child. No longer do I get a smug satisfaction out of seeing our bank account grow; "we'd never have money to go to Foxboro for a game if we had a kid!" I'd tell myself, in the past, to pacify the emptiness. Today I'd gladly spend that money on diapers or after school activities or planning our first family trip to Foxboro.

The emptiness us infertiles feel is impossible to describe to the "lucky ones"; what else is there on the planet that you can know you want more than anything, without ever actually having had it to begin with? What else would you put your body through the shots, the hormones, and the appointments for?  I know that eventually all that the IVF cycles entail will bring me on to the next phase and I cannot even imagine how amazing it is going to feel to eventually fill the void, I just can't stand the thought of waiting another second for my destiny to arrive. 

My Intro

I've never written an intro for this blog because I've had some sort of brain block but below I want you all to see my work in progress and hopefully chime in with some tips.

I met my husband in 2005; he was about to be 30 and I was 22 and trying to finish school. It was instant attraction although not an instant romance, I believe what really glued us together was our shared love of family and children and our desire to build a family of our own. 

We were married in the spring of 2009 and although we decided to give it a year of marriage before "trying" to conceive, I still pulled the goalie immediately and never refilled the birth control script after the honeymoon. 

Even though we were not aggressively trying until about 2012, I always had the thought that something wasn't quite right. We also had to contend with my family history of the genetic condition SCA1 which is autosomal dominant (meaning you cannot simply be a carrier; if you have it you have and will have a 50% chance of passing it on to your children). My mom has SCA1, as well as 2 out of her 4 siblings and various cousins of hers. She came to us with the idea of possibly using IVF to negate the possibility of passing it on, if I were positive. I spent a long, long time debating whether I even wanted to know - onset is usually not until at least middle age - and if I was positive, I struggled with the idea of "playing God" and whether I would've been ok knowing that someone could have made the same choice about me. 

By mid 2012, I had yet to become pregnant and my periods had never seemed to even out after stopping birth control; with cycles ranging from 14 to 60+ days, it was impossible to track anything. I finally went to my OBGYN with all of this information: the "not trying but not trying not to", the weird cycles, plus the family history. His immediate reaction was that we were dealing with infertility and that I should meet with a reproductive endocrinologist(RE) specializing in genetics immediately. 

My OBGYN and RE both convinced me that I had to get genetic testing immediately; the biggest impact was when my OBGYN said "you may think it's fine to deal with SCA1, but what if you have a child who can't?" Done. I met with one of the oldest geneticists in the country and four weeks later he called me with the best news I could have heard - negative. With the fright of passing SCA1 thankfully behind us, it was time to move along and get to the bottom of not being pregnant after almost 4 years. It was decided fairly quickly that we'd do IVF with ICSI since our main concern ended up being Male Factor Infertility(MFI)  This blog is my Infertility journey from that point on. 

Infertility is painful; it is in no way glamorous - as some reality shows may lead you to believe -, it is lonely, and there are many, many obstacles and disappointments. The emptiness infertility leaves upon a couple is impossible to describe to anyone who has not dealt with it first hand. I hope to convey the journey to those who are lucky enough to avoid it and to offer a place for those who are dealing with infertility to feel less alone and to hopefully laugh at as much as we can along the way. 

The Long and Winding Road

Husband had his semen analysis yesterday and I was able to have a good long chat with our RE. The sperm numbers are up but the motility is non existent; as in not even one sperm doing a little jiggle trying to move. So, it's not looking like the quality is ever going to really improve - and now I know not to waste my freaking time after sex and I can just get up and pee already!- so we can finally move forward with the next protocol.

Timing, Mother Nature, and whatever powers their may be out there being the motherfuckers that they are, yesterday s also the day my period decided to show up. I told my RE that I was going to sweet talk him into letting me start the cycle today and he laughed and said that it's unfortunately up to the insurance company; we still need approval for round two which of course has been on hold. Soooo, if it were up to my RE we would've started with monitoring today and gone straight to five days progesterone in a week or so and then straight forward to the transfer. Lovely, easy, all the work up to my husband this time around, right? Big fucking negative, Ghost Writer. 

We are one of TWO of his patients ever to have insurance say that egg thawing is still an "experimental science" and won't cover it (ahhh, a loophole. I know, I should not complain because we do get so much covered). Therefore, I get to do an entire round of IVF drugs again starting next cycle. Tell the folks what she's won: this will be a smaller round since my awesome RE is going to give the finger to the insurance company and thaw my eggs anyway on my retrieval day, so I'll get to skip Lupron all together, thank you baby Jesus. 

There's a lot to worry about, per usual and I'm completely jaded from my last retrieval experience but I've got about a month to get it out of my system and then I'll be riding the hormone crazy train again. Woowoooo. 

I'm a Moron

For two reasons. One, I wrote an alphabet out today for the kids I watch:

Yaaa, I blame it on being Monday and having to sing the alphabet song after I wrote out each letter then prompt them for the next letter..so it's definitely the 2 year olds' faults.

 I also blame above moronic moment on being distracted by reason número dos: sometime between last night and this morning, I absolutely convinced myself that I am pregnant. I haven't been that convinced since the one time I actually was pregnant and "just knew".  When I went to CVS after work tonight - to pick up my antibiotic for yet another UTI - I just went for it with the pregnancy test. I also convinced myself that I needed to buy the expensive EPT, because that's what I used the time an entire decade ago when I was pregnant. Totally logical. I just took the test and stared down the lines for the full two minutes, as if the vertical line was just going to magically appear over the horizontal to make a plus sign. The time I was pregnant, the plus sign was there before I even took the damn stick out of the pee. Oh to go back in time and slap the girl who took that test! When pregnancy felt like the worst possible thing that could've happened to me at the time. Now the negative has the exact same effect on me. 

Game Time

                   

      

It's kickoff day for the Pats, my husband and I are rabid football fans and will spend 1pm-4 yelling for our team and then the remainder of the day going back and forth from computer to TV and back, keeping an eye on our fantasy teams (this is the first year we're in the same league - lookout marriage!). Excitement and bliss aside, today is also the day my period is due. Wah wah wah. And while the past few cycles have been like clockwork but with no PMS symptoms, this cycle is already a few hours late and with no symptoms. Commence troll brain. 

I totally stood in the evil section of CVS yesterday for far too long, gazing at the pregnancy tests and ovulation kits, debating spending the money. "I'll just buy the store brand one," is how I justified the idea of buying one before my period is even due. I ended up talking sense into myself before I wasted money on a test (I spent it on makeup instead weeee because I always need more and there was PINK mascara and glitter eyeliner, you guys). 

On my way to checkout, I walked straight into a lady with her arms chock full of prenatal vitamins. Fuck. It. I convinced myself that she was in the TTC stage and maybe even she is like me and her RE told her to start them along with her hormones. It kind of helped me have compassion in place of seething jealousy. 

So I'll be simultaneously cheering on my team while cheering on my period to just get here already because really, we had sex three times this cycle, and according to my RE, we don't want any part in the sperm he was producing last semen analysis (I think those sperm were probably slow moving Jets fans- barf!).

Retrospect

How time flies when you are not obsessing over infertility appointments and deadlines! Makes me wish we all had an "off" button somewhere internally for the days when we're tormenting ourselves waiting for our periods or for "the call" or the beta test, ultrasound, blood work, followup, FET, ER, ET.....phew, it truly is a wonder how we don't all end up committed at some point throughout this affair. As difficult as it is to see when you're in the depths of the process, a break can really be a good thing and I strongly recommend one to anyone who is able to do so.

The past week I've been in a toss up of "clouds". Clouds are what I call it when I retreat into my brain and allow my thoughts to wander and escape so much that I'm having conversations and scenarios play out internally without even really noticing so. Our dear friend was finally memorialized on Monday at a beautiful location in my hometown, with many beautiful people who represent the epitome of my childhood, and beautiful stories about the beautiful woman who chose to create her own fate and destiny, right up to the very end. I sat flanked by my parents, in a row with my childhood best friends' parents, watching through the windows as sailboats passed and seagulls flew effortlessly on the breeze. I could not help but think of how many times I'd been in this exact position as a child, with those very characters in that very town and how much of an absence there was and will always be from now on. 

The numerous stories of our dear friend were touching and there was much laughter and even more tears. When it was over, in place of the relief that one often feels at the end of such a memorial, I felt an emptiness and sadness that has lingered with me ever since. Thinking of the tales of such a strong woman who made such a seemingly weak decision in the end and how many lives she touched! Oh the people she influenced in her life and from such an early age! And I've been sitting around feeling desperate for a child, doing nothing but planning and thinking about becoming a mother for years. What stories would anyone have to tell of me were I to die? 

One could get lost in the cloud of life and death but there's been another cloud nagging at my brain as our deadline to return to the RE for a semen analysis quickly approaches. The deadline itself has me thinking of the deadlines we've set for ourselves; the idea that - despite it only being the second day of September - that I could possibly have to survive yet another Christmas without bearing a child. Deadlines that our dear friend may have set for herself; watching the game clock wind down 4...3...2...are you happy yet? What will you do if you are not so by the time the whistle blows? How will you sit through another holiday feeling so empty, so useless? What will happen if this month off break has been all for not in terms of the ceaseless search for sperm? 

Saturday Errands

No matter how great you're feeling, it will always be shitty if your Trader Joe's is directly next to a Babies R Us.

                           

   

Cryobank Trip #3

Husband went to the cryobank this afternoon. I'm on vacation and this is - finally, finally, finally! - his last week of being out injured, so he tried to get out of the appointment under the guise of taking me shopping. I almost fell for the ruse, but last minute I told him "just go, you never know, today could be the day." Not that I have any expectations any more, but I have let go of the anxiety completely so I was able to put the notions of excitement or failure completely out of mind. 

Shortly after he returned, Husband got the phone call from the clinic, I had a feeling of excitement wash over me that I pushed down* and when I saw my husband do a fist pump, I sort of allowed myself to feel a bit of relief. His numbers were significantly higher than last week but still fairly low (1.8million today; roughly four vials to freeze) and the motility looks great, which is the really exciting news. I still can't allow myself to feel too excited until I actually have a baby in my arms but I will indulge the feelings of relief for now (and I will definitely let Husband take me on the shopping trip we skipped today).

*I know that no one will believe me but I do have a strong sense of intuition related to a few things. It's like ESPN or something. 

**Update- scratch all of the above. RE just called and is not that impressed by the motility or the numbers. Husband now instructed to come in every 4-6 weeks for normal semen analyses until numbers are back up to "March numbers" (where he was for his first SA). Fuck. My. Life. Oh and did I mention we've spend $750 to freeze so far?**

Our Trip To the Urologist

Gas:      $20

Parking: $7

Copay:  $20

Having a professional sit and lecture your husband on anabolic steroids for thirty minutes: fucking priceless. 

I know the old MasterCard commercial was so cliche even back when I was in high school but, honestly, that's all I've got to say about tha-at (Forrest Gump voice). He did some bloodwork to check hormones to see if his suspicions are correct - Husband would have to be a sociopathic psychopath for those tests to come back positive, or I'm just a completely gullible asshole - but other than that, he did not even entertain any other factors or help us move forward in anyway. 

So I'm going to try to enjoy my vacation this week and just chill the fuck out. Figures I got a reminder that my yearly pap smear is this week, but I think I would feel off center if I didn't have some sort of doctor's appointment to go to. Hey, who knows, maybe every idiot on the planet is right and I'll get pregnant while I'm "just relaxing", you don't even have to have sex according to that rule, right?

A Sick Joke

I went to the dermatologist a few weeks back for a skin scan. I spent so many summers lifeguarding and swimming that I don't know how I came away without melanoma before the age of 21. I have some hyperpigmentation I've been self conscious about and asked my derm about it. He looked quietly with that freaky light saber scanner and said "Pregnancy Mask". 

"Uhh, what?" I replied. 

"Are you currently on birth control?" He asked. 

"No actually, I stopped years ago but I did just finish a round of hormones for IVF"

We then discussed my journey a bit and he told me that "pregnancy mask" can occur in pregnant women or women who are taking pregnancy hormones such as birth control or IVF meds (shout out to the PCP who first prescribed me BC way back when and to my clinic nurses, all of whom never once warned me to be extra super careful about sun exposure while on any of these drugs). He said he'd call in a cream that can fix it but it being summer and with my continuing to take the IVF meds prepping for transfer, it would take a while to see a difference. 

Lucky me, shortly after I got word I wouldn't be having an FET this summer at all so at least my skin has started to show vast improvement. I just had to laugh at the odds of everything that could have happened to my skin, I walk away with "Pregnancy Mask"; pretty sure that this is what irony is. 

PSA: wear sunscreen 365. Trust. Me.