Ahh, Hello Rollercoaster…
Days Til Transfer: 11
Physical/Mental Status: mood swings, itchy, uncomfortable, predictably unpredictable.
Marriage: solid. Optimism level: meh.
Back at home after a couple days of R’n’R at the mountain where we also “got” to do one of my delestrogen booty shots there. And my poor husband on this shot must have hit a nerve, as I screamed – yes, screamed – when he did it. That’s only happened once before when in the first cycle he’d grabbed a too-big size of needle (thanks pharmacy for throwing two sizes in there! grrr…) and it’d actually *bounced* off my skin it was that big! This time it went in and I cried for him to take it out as there was no way all 1.5″ of that would go in. Of course he did and of course the second attempt went perfectly but man did the guilt run high for both of us when that happens – him of course for hurting me unintentionally, and me for the noise I made which scared him. I actually apologized for the pain, as I didn’t want him to be scared to do it again – because lordie, there’s no way I’ll ever be giving myself shots. This guy’s both my rock AND my at-home doc LOL… Hell, I can’t even look at needles! So we were both standing there afterwards, hubby rubbing my bum while I both whimpered and comforted him, haha.
The nausea is a bit mellower but my plantar fasciitis has reached epic proportions in my left heel, causing me to miss my 2nd step class this week. Tomorrow morning my plan is to do what I consider the unthinkable – a spinning class. I literally *hate* what I call “bike riding to nowhere” but I need to sweat and double that 5 lb loss…as anyone knows with weight loss, momentum is tremendous thing.
My mind goes back and forth between the stress of work and the stress of infertility treatment. (Professionally, I suffer from what they call “bag lady syndrome” – in other words, if I don’t succeed quickly at something, I assume that within months I’ll be destitute. Sensible, right?) I also, as I did the first time, had this moment of “hey maybe we should transfer two and “up our odds” this time!” and thank goodness my husband reminded me that a) no way in hell can we have twins, b) twins means hospital birth, what I want to avoid if at all possible, and c) no way our religious doc is going to be game for selective reduction from two to one if we did get two (funny, the world is fine doing it with three or four or more, but two to one is seen as a cardinal sin…ugh! whatever). Mantra: tell husband whenever I have thoughts like this, he’ll bring me back to reality 🙂
But seriously, mentally I am trying to just assume it won’t work. No, not pessimism, just not unbridled, baby-dust-infested optimism. Go about my life, and maybe by mid-February something will be going on in my uterus, maybe not.
Sleep quality, however, is improving – these injections always amp up my inability to get comfortable at night, and hey nothing like going from our super-lux, firm king-size mattress at home to an Airbnb accommodation’s old, squeaky, ultra-soft, full-size bed to make you realize how lucky you are! It emphasizes gratitude, that’s for sure!
“Say Thank You!”
This always reminds me of when Maya Angelou would remind us all that during the hardest of times to remember to say thank you for what we do have. So with that…
- I am grateful every day for my most brilliant, sensitive, kind, wonderful, loving partner in life. What a heart and soul this man has!!! What an amazing father he will be someday!!!
- I am grateful every day for my naturopath/acupuncturist who knows just what to say, gives great hugs, and has a way with those needles that put me in the zone almost before she’s even done getting them all in.
- I am grateful every day for my massage therapist who knew that when I said I needed to seriously calm the heck down, that meant extra scalp massage time. Let me tell you she’s magic. And don’t get me started on the hot stone part of my monthly session, ahhh… My dear fellow bloggers struggling with infertility, please add massage to your monthly or biweekly budgets – you deserve it and it does wonders during this Charlie Foxtrot (as my husband terms it – me I just say clusterfuck) of a time…
- I am grateful every day for where we live. While the east coast is dealing with blizzard conditions, this Oregon day is 50 degrees, and as we near February, I am so excited to see the tiniest of indicators that yes, as it does every year, life will continue on. Things will grow, the sun will return, flowers will bloom. And while right now the daffodil green bits are just an inch or so out, that’s all I need to get super stoked for the coming season.
- I am also grateful in a strangely unexpected way that we are doing donor egg IVF instead of the traditional method. You see, with DEIVF there was no stimulation for my body, nor any harvesting procedure – our wonderful donor went through that herself (for a tidy $5K sum, of course). And her being young and “eggy,” she produced over 20 eggs with almost all of them fertilizing, and 13 making it to blastocyst stage (leaving a dozen in the freezer for future attempts). So this means my 2nd DEIVF attempt is fairly straightforward – BCP, Delestrogen, and Progesterone. No Lupron, no antibiotics, and $2,000 for each try from now on. For the women whose ovaries are still producing and they’re going through full-on IVF, I tip my hat to you!!!
Fresh vs. Frozen
Something I recently learned that’s pretty cool is that these days, frozen embryo transfers (FETs) have about the same odds as fresh transfers, because these days clinics use vitrification instead of old-school slow-freeze techniques. And with that, while the data is still new, it’s beginning to be shown that FET is actually more successful than fresh for women over 35 like me. So I’m not going out buying maternity jeans or anything, but it was kinda cool to read that.
Then again, googling “success rates FET” is a sure way to make yourself feel like crap reading all the forum stories. That lasted a mere 2 minutes for me after several months offline from those sites. Whew.
In the Meantime
The other day our wonderful neighborhood cafe owners brought their now 7 month old in and I got to see my husband, for the first time believe it or not, hold a baby. Boy did that kiddo burst out with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen! Needless to say if I wasn’t in public I’d have started balling but I held it together and just smiled. It’s such a weird twist when you love kids so much and yet your body is not helping. You want to get right down on the floor and play with them, while at the same time you feel so fragile that tears are right behind those eyes. Hell, we watched Juno on DVD the other night at the cabin and when Jennifer Garner kissed Ellen Page’s tummy I nearly fell apart.
So in the meantime I’m going to focus on the silly stuff as much as I can that will hopefully be a part of our world sooner rather than later. Like this: