-
-
The Groups
Temperature Obsessing
I believe this is a record- pessimism has officially set in just three days after my insemination. Do I get a prize?
When you ovulate your temperature should go UP, correct? Mine is going down.
So just having a bit of a mope. Don’t mind me.
It’s not a tumah.
So I don’t have OHSS.
& Since I didn’t blog yesterday you have no idea what I am talking about, do you.
I’ll rewind & catch ya’ll up.
Yesterday morning I had my IUI. The RE on call was one I have never met before: a very nice, slightly older, woman from Ohio. She talked to me as if it was my first IUI & I kind of liked it. (cue the appropriate Madonna song) The nurse, who I have known since I started coming to the clinic, was the nurse to Mr. Big Shot/My name is on the letterhead, guy & I could tell she was amused at how I was being treated so delicately. It wasn’t until new RE said, “& you should be able to have a normal day today, do your normal activities…” until the nurse piped in, “Why don’t you examine her chart and meds protocol & rethink that.”
ooooooh! SNAP!
So the new RE flipped through the massive binder that is my chart & then recanted her earlier statement & issued the following revision, “Take it easy today. Rest. Drink lots of fluid. Call if you experience any pain that you feel is unusual.”
You got it!
The drive home was a bit angsty for me. Mom was at the wheel , but we were rushing. & I bet not one of you has had to rush home for the reason we did. We had to rush home so that we could wake GM up to go to one of her society lunches. It was such a cluster fuck as we were last in line at the first come, first serve IUI Saturday at the clinic. We HAD to be home by 9am so that GM had plenty of time to get ready.
We left her a note that I didn’t feel well & that Mom had taken me to the doc in the box.**
But if she woke up & saw that we knew she would freak out about making her meeting/lunch. So the entire hour drive home Mom & I were bouncing back worst case scenarios. They involved GM finding the keys to Mom’s thunderbird & trying to remember how to drive. GM trying to walk the 6 miles to the country club, GM having a fit & throwing things at us…Luckily when we got home GM was still asleep & actually didn’t even want to go to the meeting. Phew!
(**GM doesn’t know about my baby science experiment. Before my Grandfather died she would ask me when I was going to settle down & have a family. I replied that I may not need to settle down to have kids. To which she giggled & said, “Oh you modern girls!” But at this point having to tell, retell, explain & reexplain artificial insemination to GM is just not something that I deem necessary. Once I get pg I will be honest with her, but I’ll be crossing that bridge once I come to it.
SO back to the tumah…
I get back into my PJ’s & under the covers thinking dreamy thoughts about my bazillion eggs hooking up with Guy’s bazillion sperm. (the clinic did an upward motility wash on new donor & Guy had 56 million sperm that were over 70% forward moving) I also had an entire week of season 2 ER’s to catch up on. (God bless tivo & TNT) So I got comfy & began my Dr. Ross marathon.
Then it started. The pain. Oh the humanity! I’m telling you it was worse than my post lap pain. It felt like somebody was aggressively kneading dough inside of me. All at once I felt that I would throw up and explode.
I tried to be brave. I tried to just ride it out.
But who am I kidding? It hurt soooo effing much. At first I wanted to go get a shot of vodka, but then I stopped. I haven’t had anything to drink since Philly & I didn’t want to start now. So I figured a cup of peppermint tea would calm me. But the simple act of getting out of bed was excruciating.
I made it to the kitchen & Mom was in there (GASP!) doing dishes (ALERT THE MEDIA!). She took one look at me & said, “I’m calling that beeper number!”
So I propped myself against the kitchen counter & we waited for the RE on call to call us back. The first thing they told us to do was to weigh me. Um. Thanks - want to kick me when I am down? I already feel horrible, now you want me to be confronted with the monstrosity that is my bathroom scale? Fuck you!
But she said I needed to weigh now & then weigh myself in 4 hours. If it has gone up any call her back. Then I was told to drink as much water as I could. If I didn’t pee within the hour call her back. If my pee changed colors or “density” (?!?!?!) call her back.
So for the next five hours I drank and I peed. Drinking. Peeing.
Then weighing. I figured all the water would have made me gain, but I had actually lost a pound. Go figure.
What I was being monitored for was a little thing called OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome). Anybody that has a trigger shot or anyone that takes fertility medication is at risk. I was at higher risk because of my higher estrogen level and my age (?!).
So by 7:00pm I was deemed in the clear. No OHSS for me. Thank Gawd. But going through all of that did make me feel like a chump. All that drama for some ovulation pain. But I guess when you are dropping the mother load of eggs some, er, discomfort is to be expected.
Just glad to not feel so bloated this morning. Phew.
__________________
Those of you wanting to join the flickr Friday Photo account I have sent you invite e-mails. Disregard the 1st one if you get more than one. I’m still a bit of a flickr newbie. If you haven’t gotten an invite & you would like one, e-mail me & I’ll take care of that.
Flicker Group
Thanks to Trista’s brilliant idea I have set up a group flicker account where photos for the Friday photo posts can be uploaded. Send me an e-mail with your e-mail address if you would like to become a member of this group & participate in photo Fridays.
Next week’s theme will be the inside of your fridge or freezer.
Face Mask Friday!
Oh yes! It is time for the first (& dare I say, trial test?) of Photo Fridays!
Woo Hooooo!
If you’re uploading a pic today let me know by leaving me a comment & I will compile the list for a Saturday post. It is sheer photo/blogging madness!! Can you stand it?
Here I am last night with my proactive sulfur mask on. mmmmmm. I was trying to look like a super model, but I think I managed to pull off sad mime instead. Oh Well.
Special bonus picture of moi & two of my dearest friends, my old roommates in L.A. (I’m sure they are killing me now for sharing this, but seriously, how CUTE are we?!) I’d give anything to have a “spa night” back in Hollywood. Ahhhh…as Edith sang, Those were the days.
In Vagina news: I had my trigger last night & I now feel like I have gained 30 pounds in my gut. ugh
Eggs-travaganza
It’s official, I am the friggen Easter Bunny. This morning’s ultrasound revealed that I have 6 follicles of good size. & Since I have learned my lesson I made them tell me the size. Oh, if only they were cadbury…
Left ovary follicles: Five of good size: 17.5mm, 16mm, 14mm, 14.3mm, 13mm
Right ovary follicle: one of note at 12mm
Still waiting on my E2 #.
I was told to expect to trigger tonight.
DAMN. So soon. For those of you that know what I am talking about- I am only on cd8! Sheesh.
The bummer of the day was that I got know it all nurse/tech as the ring leader of my vagina floor show. 6 people with front row seats. I had her teaching TWO different people how to scan. Yes. Two. One chick got my left ovary. & A dude got my right one. I could tell the dude was bummin not to have much to see on the right, but whatever. I can’t please all of the people all of the time. This brings the total number of people that have seen my hoo-ha to five bazillion trillion since I started trying to get knocked up. I am such a slut.
So the know it all is explaining that of my 6 measurable follicles that only 3-4 would really be viable and/or release, but maybe less since “patient has been diagnosed with unexplained infertility.”
If I didn’t have an ultrasound wand shoved up my cooter I would have bitch slapped the broad. I gave her a look & said, for the benefit of her students, “Ahem. The patient is STILL in the room.” Which got a couple of chuckles from the peanut gallery. But seriously - what a twat to say such a thing in front of me. You want to be a good teacher then teach sensitivity!
She then went on to explain that I would be instructed to trigger this evening & I would be coming in on Saturday for my IUI. I piped in, “actually I should be in tomorrow as well as I have requested two IUI’s this cycle.”
So then I got an earful about what a waste of money two IUI’s would be. & if I just wanted to flush money down the drain she was sure the clinic would take it. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t even know why I challenged her as she so clearly needs to be correct. She isn’t my RE. So fuck her. I wish I was gassy this morning - I would have ripped one right at her. & you know I could.
ok…shaking it all off. Time to let the positive vibes surround me & to get excited about things.
I am going to get knocked up!
**ADDED JUST NOW:**
Got a call from the nice nurse who said that they would only be doing the 1 IUI. grrrr. fine. be that way.
She then went into this prepared speech about how I have an increased risk for multiples and that she needed verbal acknowledgement that she informed me of this. Say what? Well I guess it makes sense, but it still made me laugh. I guess every infertile laughs in the face of multiples - I double DOG dare you to knock me up with more than one!
I was also told to take it very easy this weekend as I would be very, very sore after the trigger shot. Finally time to watch all of the muppet shows on dvd.
Am I excited? You bet!
Am I still convinced that I will never be pregnant? but of course.
Oh, & my E2# was 705.
photo fridays
Just an idea…but it seems like there are a couple of us that also like to upload photos on to our blogs. I’m going to go nuts & propose a Friday photo post. I’ll post a theme or suggestion on wednesdays & on friday if you have something to share go for it! E-mail me or post a comment letting me know you are playing along & I will try to compile a list for Saturday.
This Friday, in honor of HD, will be “Face Mask Friday”. Take a picture of you with goop on your face & post it on Friday. If you don’t want to post your face be creative. Whatever.
More Info
Soooooooo…Got my cycle day 6 E2 number: It is 284. I am to stick with two more days of the same dose of injects & then get another ultrasound on thursday. The nurse says she bets I am in for the IUI on Saturday.
SATURDAY?? What you talking about, Willis??
If I have my druthers I am going to push for 2 IUI’s. One of Friday morning, the other on Saturday. I don’t even know what kind of numbers Guy Smiley has.
Ok, I have the WORST headache I have had in almost a year so not feeling blogilicious this morning.
Bloat explained…
So I had my ultrasound this morning to check out how I am responding to the FSH (follicle stimulating hormone) treatment. I got a gold star for having a good lining. Something about being able to see three lines. (I swear I have no idea what most of this shit means, I just nod my head & hope nobody* yells, ‘What the fuck is THAT??”)
*7 people were at the floor show that was my ultrasound. I know this is part of the deal when you go to a teaching clinic, but I swear sometimes I feel like charging admission or selling popcorn.
They checked my liberal ovary first. She was lugging 11 follicles. Swiss cheese. There was a bit of a debate as to how many of those would become “viable” before the number 5 was casually tossed out there. My conservative ovary is brewing 7 follicles, although only 2 seemed noteworthy.
I had some blood drawn by the beautiful Mexican tech who (because I asked her to) said an Our Father with me before I left. I’m not Catholic, but it just felt like the thing to do. Now that I write about it, it seems kind of odd. Oh well. Luckily she was game & didn’t sue my ass for something or other.
So now I wait for something called an E2 number. That number, in conjunction with my ultrasound, will decide what direction I go in next with treatment.
Seriously tho, I am so confused. I need a fucking graph or chart or something so that I can see what “normal” is. I know every woman is different & responds differently, but how do I know how neurotic to get unless I have something to obsess over?
Bloat in the Gut
In the words of INXS, “Are you ready for a new sensation?”
There is nothing quite like inflated, puffy ovaries. Even my fucking pj’s left a dent in my bombastic belly. & even though I don’t sense it, my Mom says I am being bitchy.
So I guess shooting hundreds of dollars into your breadbasket and worrying if the juice is working or if it will ever work is just supposed to put you in a luminous mood all the fricking time.
Sue me. Maybe I am a bit more on EDGE…but bitchy?
ok. Maybe. But do you have to fricken SAY it??
ahem…
At least yesterday I got to finally meet up with my friend, Dr. Molly, so we could have our holiday birthday gift exchange. I am very intrigued by the book I was given. First of all the title is brilliant: The Dance. Moving to the Rhythms of Your True Self. But secondly the author has the most granola name I have heard in ages: Oriah Mountain Dreamer. Ahhhh, my birkenstock princess.
But in all seriousness the book taps directly into my Saturn in retrograde self. According to the liner notes the author challenges readers to live with passion, energy & honesty. Yes please.
Another gift from Dr. Molly was one of information. She has the goods on a nightly, FREE, guided meditation class. Excellent. My first class will be tomorrow night & I have a feeling it will be just in time what with it being the day of my ultra sound/ blood work news.
So after a wonderful morning with Dr. Molly & before my date with a needle I squeezed in some quality time with GM. We plonked down in the den & completely got sucked into the madness that is the Miss America pageant. Oh, come on, you know you watched it too!
GM grinned like she had vaseline on her teeth for the entire broadcast. I, on the other hand, was more in shock at how unnatural the gals are looking these days. Everyone had an orange tan, freaky white teeth & jumbotron sized boobs. I was actually worried that some would bust out of the bikinis & the country music television station would have a Janet Jackson scandal on their hands.
I don’t want to spoil the ending for you…but is this really the face of women for 2006?
It’s a gauge, gauge world
Man, I was SUCH a bad ass last night. I shut myself up in my room. Had Billy Idol growling at me through my laptop. Felt like such a smart person in a chem lab mixing the powder with the liquid- I was using MATH! I was on top of the world, a fantastic high for an infertile control freak.
By the power of GraySkull! I had the medicine that would get me knocked up!
Then tragedy. Panic. & a tailspin…
Where were the fucking little needles? I had 20 of the ginormous “mixing” needles. But where were the tiny, little, you won’t feel a thing, needles that I needed to INJECT?
aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
At this point I went storming into the den & cried, “Moooooooooooom!” (that would be “Mom” with panic & a hint of a diphthong)
Mom was startled by the site of me: harried in my pj’s, face blotchy from crying, and oh, let’s not forget the massive 22 gauge monster truck needle in my hand.
I explained the situation, reenacted my freakout & then we tried to come up with a solution. Here were the suggestions:
1) Mom could use the monster needle but she wouldn’t push it in all the way
2) We could call around for a pharmacy that would be open
3) We could troll the campus for druggies
4) We could walk over to the fire department & see if they had anything (wink, wink)
5) We could have a 20 minute conversation about knowing any diabetics in town.
I felt like the biggest failure. The biggest wank. The nurse at the RE’s office AND the lady on the phone at the pharmacy had told me, repeatedly, to check the fed ex box when it arrived to make sure I had everything.
But did I do that? Fuck no.
Then, in such a hallelujah chorus moment, I realized - the needles! They could still be in the fed ex box!
So I ran out of the house to the garbage trolley (it’s a southern thing) & fetched the fed ex box. & wouldn’t you know, hidden in some sort of secret pocket of whatever, were my needles.
Of course at this point (ha ha) I was still so manic the very idea of injecting myself was out the window. Luckily I have a Mother who is no stranger to injectables (calm down, she has MS, she ain’t no druggie). We picked a spot on my alabaster gut and BAM! it was done.
I then decided to reread the 7 page booklet of inject instructions that I got on Friday. Blah, blah, blah don’t exercise. For your amusement here is the direct quote about exercise:
“Do not exercise, which will jar your ovaries. Yoga, stretching, swimming are fine. Any time you wonder if an activity is ok to do- PICTURE YOUR OVARIES. Treat them at least as careful as you would a dozen eggs at the grocery store.”
Damn. Guess learning how to kick box is out this month.
This morning, as I was warned, there was a blotchy pink rash on my gut at the inject site. But because I am a big fat nerd I went all, “Awww!” when I saw it.
Two more nights of this & then tuesday morning I go in to see how things are brewing. Come on eggies!
-
-
Great Hosting By:
