Half Way

This has officially been the longest 2 week wait, EVER!  It's not like I'm going stir crazy to test or anything, it's just that the last week has seemed about 3 months long.  We're halfway through, though.  Next Monday, I get my beta drawn.  I'm going to get it drawn when I go to work that evening, so I imagine I won't get the results until Tuesday.  But, I plan to test at home before then. 

That brings me to a question: when should I test to see if the trigger's out of my system?  Today has been 9 days since I took the trigger, but I'm only 7dpo (days post ovulation, to you lay-people).  Should I test tomorrow, safe in the knowledge that 8dpo is too early to get a legit positive?  That's what I'm leaning towards. 

Then, when should I test for real?  My thought was Sunday (13dpo), since I will have slept all night and therefore have more hormones built up.  But, it's Mother's Day.  That means it will be either really awesome if I get a positive, or really terrible when it's negative.  I'm legitimately afraid that I'll be a blubbering mess at church (which doesn't look very good coming from the pastor's family's pew).  Tell me what to do, people!  Better yet, just guarantee me a positive!

Obligatory symptom check (even though everything's probably from my prometrium suppositories):

• Boobs of Fury
• Slight twinges/crampies occasionally
• Emotional (I teared up watching a Hallmark commercial a little while ago)

Riddle Me This, My Lovelies...

What are the side effects of the trigger shot?

Weird temperature issues?

Ridiculous fatigue?

What about the prometrium suppositories?

I start those today, so it'd be nice to know what to expect.

I love you all so much, because you rock!

Trigger Shy

That is me with my trigger shots.  Pardon how I look in that pic.  I've been up since I got up last night to go to work, so I look like crap.

Well, after going yesterday for my ultrasound, we got the good news that both my follicles were 16mm.  They said I should do one more night of follistim and come back this morning for one last ultrasound to see where the follies were, then decide whether I'd trigger today or tomorrow. 

After searching high and low to find someone to take me since I worked last night, I finally got my grandma to take me.  It was really kind of eerie how empty that place is on a Saturday morning!  I got the same ultrasound tech that I had yesterday, and she is awesome.  My follies are 18mm and 19mm! Yay!  So, the nurse said for me to trigger sometime today, then do the timed you-know-what 24 hours and 36 hours after said shot.

So, here's my question: would be be bad to do it at 34 hours?  I'm kind of not wanting to get up at 2am to do the deed, if you know what I mean.  My other question is: how long does the trigger stay in my system?  I know that it will turn a pregnancy test positive, so I don't want to get a false positive whenever I test.  Should I just test in a week or so to see if it's out of my system, or is that too soon?

I love having you knowledgeable ladies as resources! 

In Which I Curse My Ovaries

Two follicles. 

Two. 

One is 9mm, the other 8mm. 

They're supposed to be 18mm. 

I, evidently, have a ton of 4-6mm ones, too, but they don't count. 

So, the PA upped my dosage to 150IU.  She says, since I'm overweight, the meds don't work as well.  Nothing like being constantly reminded that you're probably infertile because of your own fatness.  I go back Friday at 11 for a repeat ultrasound.

This is all very inconvenient, since I have to work Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights.  I have to find someone to work part of my shift Friday night so I can maybe get a nap in between getting home from my appointment (which I will be attending on no sleep) and having to go back to work that night.

The kicker is that I waited for more than 90 minutes for one vial of the Follistim.  Last time, I waited more than 2 hours for 4 meds, so I thought my chances were good of getting out of there within half an hour.  No such luck.  Of course, I get down to the pharmacy and ask to get a refill of the Follistim, which I was assured had been ordered previously, and they're like, "Well, we need the physcial prescription you were written previously to be able to refill it."  Of course, the actual script is back at my house--2 hours away.  So, I haul my butt all the way back up to the RE clinic and tell them the deal.  They straighten it out, and I go back to the pharmacy and wait for more than an hour an a half.  I was not happy.

Then, of course, is the fact that our pre-authorization isn't through yet, so all the meds are out of pocket.  $257 later, I finally get to leave.  So, today, I get to poke myself twice since I'll be finishing up my previous vial and starting a new one.  Lovely. 

I'm really hoping that my dumb ovaries kick into gear because I don't want to shell out more money and wait another 90 minutes for more Follistim.  Plus, it would be mighty handy to have our trigger and subsequent timed intercourse fall over the weekend while I'm off work.

Of course, since I said that, it probably won't happen.  ugh

Can you tell I'm in an awesome mood?

Thinking Thin Thursday

Yeah, right.

I suck.

0.4 pounds this week. 

And that's with having hit the Y twice AND done the Wii Fit at least 3 or 4 times! 

What the crap?!??!

Should we blame AF?

Let's go with that.

Or the fact that people at work keep bringing cookies and freaking cake in.  How was my pre-menstrual (then just menstrual) self supposed to say no to cookies and cake?  Ugh.  Of course, I also went to supper with friends last night.  I only had 2 tacos, but still, probably not great. 

Also, today won't be any better.  I have a STUPID 4 hour long nursing education at work (that they make us do 4 times per year), and they serve breakfast.  Of course, I COULD take something healthy to eat, but I don't want to.  If I'm going to sit through them yapping for 4 hours about things that have little bearing on my department, they're going to feed me, by golly!  Then, I'm having lunch with my bestie as payment for her watching Ash while I go to the aforementioned meeting.

I'm a little irritated with life right now.  Can you tell?

I've got 2 more nights of femara before starting the follistim.  Ultrasound appointment is Tuesday morning.  You can pray that all is well that day and I can trigger without having to go back for another appointment, because I work Wednesday-Thursday-Friday nights next week, so I really don't see how I'd fit in a 4 hour round trip to the doctor when I'll need to be sleeping.  This whole infertility thing is really inconvenient. 

Sorry to be a whiner.

The PLAN

First off, I promise to post an "Adoption Day" post soon.  I'm away from home right now, so I can't link to the pics.  Suffice it to say, it went well and Asher is officially adopted.

The real reason for this post is to tell you all about the RE appointment I had the 1st.  This could get long, so feel free to ignore me.

Before you ask, no, the evil AF did not show her face (and still hasn't, as a matter of fact).  I called the day before and asked what I should do.  They told me to go ahead and come in and they could probably do it anyway along with the Follistim teaching.  So, the three of us sashayed out of the house at 7:30 in the morning to go to my 9:30 appointment.  Asher was remarkably well behaved on the trip and ate breakfast on the way.  Nick and I had great conversation about homeschooling.  It was as great a car ride as I'd enjoyed in quite awhile. 

They did end up doing the ultrasound, and I had a great conversation with the ultrasound technician about foster care.  It did, however, feel like she was ultrasounding my tonsils when she was digging for my left ovary.  It's evidently up really high, as they said it was during the HSG.  She ended up having to do an external ultrasound to find it.  It is there, though, so that's good.  The doctor said there was a small cyst there, but nothing to worry about.

Anyway, when it came time for my actual appointment, they did their usual weighing and vital signs.  (My blood pressure is always borderline when I'm there, but it's fine when I take it at work.  I even sit there and try to relax beforehand, but it doesn't work.  ugh)  The nurse, who I loved, did the teaching with me and let me play with the follistim pen.  She gave me a big folder of information, which I read every word of during my nearly 2 hour wait at the pharmacy (more on that later).  Then the doctor came in.  Let me tell you this: there must be a million doctors in this practice, because I've been there a ton of times and I rarely see the same one twice!  I did like this guy, though.  He might be my favorite.  Him or the hippy one I saw awhile back.  He talked with me and set out my plan.  Of course, I can't start said plan until stupid AF shows up.

The plan is as follows:

• CD 3-7: Femara
• CD 8-10: 100iu Follistim
• CD 11: Ultrasound (where hopefully all will be well and I won't require to get another cartridge of Follistim)
• CD 12 (hopefully): Ovidrel trigger shots (multiple! Because I'm a fatty!)
• CD 14+ (hopefully): Progesterone suppositories

They gave us the choice as to whether we'd do an IUI (intra-uterine insemination) or try one cycle old school.  We chose to do it old school this cycle, which the nurse said is a fairly common choice among couples with good sperm counts.  I figure if it doesn't work, we'll decide next cycle which we want to do.  Of course, we're praying hard core that it will work this first shot.  Yet, in the same breath, I tell Nick to not get his hopes up.  While we're on the subject, I'd greatly appreciate prayer than AF doesn't show up on Saturday.  If she does, CD 11 will fall on a day when it would be impossible for me to make the trek to the doctor for the ultrasound.

So, the nurse says that she'll send the prescriptions to their pharmacy, because it is usually cheaper there than at "outside" pharmacies.  We head to the pharmacy (Ash and Nick had been playing in the waiting room for the maybe 30 minutes it took for the ultrasound and teaching).  We get there at 10:40, and only one of the prescriptions has arrived.  We're given a pager and told it will go off when they're ready.  We quickly realize that Asher is not going to cooperate during this wait, as he is "waited" out.  So, I send Nick with him to get gas, assuming that by the time they get back, I'll be done. 

Wrong.  They drive around for awhile after getting gas, Asher takes a small nap, and I read the crappy magazines they have in their waiting room.  Meanwhile, I'm hearing horror stories from my fellow pharmacy prisoners about previous times when they've waited up to 4 hours for medications. 4 HOURS! 

By the time it hits 11:45, I am in an awful mood, have read all the information in my folder and flipped through the 2 magazines they have that aren't super stupid.  I'd texted my mom, my best friend and Nick.  I'd talked to my sister on the phone.  I'd contemplated making a scene so they'd hurry up.  I'd asked my mom if she'd call in a bomb threat (she said no). 

Finally, it hits noon and I get in line to ask about it.  The lady says, "Oh.  We didn't have one of the medications, so someone had to go down to "general" to get it.  It will be a bit."  So I say, "I've been here an hour and a half.  I have a grumpy toddler in the car."  She tells me it shouldn't be "too long."  I go sit back down, and 20 minutes later my pager beeps.  I cheer aloud and said, "FINALLY!"  I go to the counter and tell the lady my name and give her my pager.  I hear the pharmacist say, "I'm almost done with it!"  I think to myself, "Why did you call for me if you're almost done? Why not wait until you are done!?"  After waiting 10 more minutes, they FINALLY called me to the window, where they ask if I have questions and they give me the total: $475. 

"Holy Crap!" I say.

"Yeah, I know," the lady says.

With tears in my eyes, I swipe my card.  The pharmacist hands me my bag of loot and I tell him, "Well, this has been the most delightful pharmacy experience of my life."

I get out to the car, and I see my wonderful husband and son have gotten me flowers while on their drive.  I tell Nick how much the meds were and he tells me it's fine.  Then, as we're waiting in the drive through for our lunch, I burst into tears.  I cry that my ovaries are dumb, and it's not fair that there are women who brag that all their husbands have to do is look at them wrong and they're pregnant, and why does stupid medco not cover the injectibles?  He reassured me that it was fine, we had the money to cover it, and yes, it does suck, but we both know that our infertility has changed us for the better.  I concede, and eat my sandwich.

We had decided to make the most of our trip and go to the nearby outlet mall.  We spent about an hour and a half there and got a few things for Ash at Old Navy, The Children's Place and Carter's.  Asher slept most of the way home while Nick and I had more great conversation about random things.

All in all, it was a good day.  It had it's ups and downs, but the important thing is I got to spend it with my boys.  There is no better kind of day.

Hilarious!

I highly suggest you watch this video.  Especially if you've ever been in a position of infertility, you will find this hilarious!

My Aunt Jane Knows More Than My RE

This is courtesy of Mel over at Stirrup Queens.

Gasp! A Non-Thursday Post!

Well, I'm just sitting here with Asher, watching Dora.  Team UmiZoomi just got done (he loves that show so much!).  We went to a tiny town near our house to go for a walk (since I told you all last week that my goal was to get to the Y three times this week.  I think the walk counts.) and play at the park.  That's right, folks, we have to drive to get somewhere we can walk!  You try pushing a stroller on a gravel road that's been largely taken over by mud! No thanks!  Anyway, he was SUPER good during our 30 minute walk.  He was just content to sit in the stroller and talk to me and look at the houses and birds.  It's probably a novel idea to him to see houses so close together, since we live in the middle of nowhere.  We started our walk at the park, and I told him if he was good, we could play when we were done.  Since he was so good, we played for about 30 minutes at the park.  He had a great time sliding and climbing and playing with ginormous leaves...

Except when he face-planted in the dirt...

He didn't cry or anything!  Needless to say, he took a bath when we got home. 

In other news, today is my niece Jayla's 2nd birthday.

We'll be heading to her house tonight for her birthday party.  She and Asher love each other, even if neither of them are to the stage yet where they get the whole "sharing toys" thing.

We're getting pretty excited for the adoption next week!  That reminds me, I need to go tomorrow and get Asher's papers served to him.  lol  It will be great to finally have it behind us!  The day after, I have my RE appointment.  I'm really praying that the provera will come through and put me on the correct CD for it.  It would suck to have to re-schedule it.  I think Nick is actually going to come with me to it, since he decided to take his 2 week paternity leave that his work gives for births and adoptions.  lol  I think it's kind of funny, since it's not like we have to travel or anything, but he said, "Honey!  It's 2 weeks paid vacation!  For free!"  So, it will be nice to have him around for a couple of weeks, including the visits to the RE that are sure to ensue.  

Anyhoo, I'm sorry to ramble.  I'm trying to keep my mind off of how hungry I am after that walk and park playing. 

Monday's Update on Wednesday

This week's weight loss: 1.2 pounds.  Not spectacular by any means, but ok.  It means I'm 0.8 pounds below the "magic" number.  I'm actually a little nervous to call and make an appointment!  My March is filling up fast, and I just don't know how much I feel like cramming one more thing into it! What do you think?  If I wait a little longer, then I'd have time to lose more weight.  The other thing is that I probably wouldn't be below her specified number at the office with clothes on and food or drink in my system.  I don't know.  Give me opinions!  On the other hand, I'm not getting any younger! lol

This week is jam-packed with appointments for Asher.  Yesterday, he had to see a psychologist to see if he still qualifies for SSI.  I didn't even know he was receiving it at all, so when I got the letter saying he had to see this lady, I had no idea what was going on.  I called the adoption worker and she said we should probably go.  I had to reschedule it from it's original date to yesterday.  It took about an hour, but he did great!  She says he certainly will no longer qualify for SSI, which I had assumed was the case.  She says he's VERY smart, but he does have a short attention span, even for a two year old.  I agree with her.  He was able to do most of the things she asked him to do, and even some of the things above his age level.  He can match colors and knows shapes and is just in general a genius.  I think he gets it from my side of the family! ; )  Anyway, today he has a WIC appointment (he gets WIC since he's a foster child, but he won't qualify once the adoption is done), and tomorrow he has his wart removed!  He has a nasty looking wart on his thumb.  I have tried everything you can safely do to a two year old to get it gone, but nothing works.  So, we're seeing a dermatologist tomorrow and getting it taken off.  I'm sure it will be a blast.  Who wants to take him? Not me!

Seriously, people, give me opinions as to what to do about the RE.

Oh! And how do you like my new layout?  My wonderful husband spent a bunch of time last night setting it up, and I think it looks beautiful!

Report

I can certainly think of a lot of things I'd rather do than lie on a cold metal table and have people messing around my lady parts, but it wasn't awful.  Quite frankly, at this point, having been up for more than 24 hours is worse than the crampies from the hsg.   If you don't want to hear about the procedure, skip this next paragraph, I won't be offended.

My sister and I got there a little early and reported to my usual waiting room.  The nurse then called my name and took my blood pressure, and asked me a couple of questions.  Then, she pulls out the map.  Now, mind you, the University of Iowa Hospital is ginormous.  We had wind our way through the maze and find Diagnostic Radiology.  It was seriously a LONG way from my RE's office!  When they called me back, I had to wind around some more.  I was really beginning to think I was being punk'd.  Finally, I get my clothes changed and get in the room.  The very nice x-ray tech had me lie on the cold metal table (seriously? Can't they make it warmer in there?  Some of us are going commando!), where she took a couple of shots of my stuff pre-dye.  Then, the physician's assistant came, and they started the procedure.  Let me tell you this:  no one warned me before I went that there was going to be lidocaine shot into my cervix!  Granted, that part wasn't the worst, but still, I had no idea!  Anyway, that part was less than awesome.  In fact, I think I got a little dizzy at that point, but I don't remember.  Then they shot the dye up, and it was VERY crampy.  I mean, I didn't cry or anything, but I think I said, "Wow! That IS crampy!"  They had me do all sorts of stupid human tricks like rolling side to side and holding my hips at a 45* angle and lying on my stomach, which is all quite fun while trying to avoid flashing people unnecessarily.  They got the shots they wanted, so I sat up and waited for the PA to come back to talk to me.  I quizzed the tech about what I was seeing on the screen (Is my uterus supposed to be shaped like that? I always pictured it bigger.  What's that white thing? When can I put my pants on?)  The lady came back in the room and said everything looked good.  My right ovary is evidently up significantly higher than the left one, which she attributes to my being overweight (while we're on that subject, does this lady not realize that I'm AWARE of that issue and I'm working on it?  She stinking dwells on it and it makes me want to kick her...or eat her for lunch, since she seems to think I'm a big fat fatty.).  She also said that the lining of my uterus is a little more jagged than usual, but that could just be because I went so long without a period that my lining didn't shed all the way during this past period.  I wouldn't be surprised.  This period didn't seem nearly as bad as I was thinking it should be based on the 90-ish day cycle.  I got dressed and found my way back to my sister, who was sleeping in the waiting room.

The other thing to report is that I called them on our way home to have them get started on our pre-authorization for infertility treatment with our insurance.  CIGNA says that it can take 20-30 days, so I figured we should get a move on.  The next step is 5 days of femara followed by 3 days of follistim.  I'm supposed to continue losing weight (Yeah, lady, I get it! Lose weight.  Check.  Yep.  Doing it!  Sheesh!), and call when I hit the goal they specified and they'll bring me in for baseline ultrasounds and teaching on the follistim pen.  When I got back to my grandma's to pick  up Asher, I got a call from the RE's office saying they'd talked to my insurance company, and gotten everything taken care of.  We really don't need a pre-auth, she said, but she gave CIGNA the codes and stuff in case they decided to be doofuses about it.  She also said that we have the best infertility coverage that she's seen in quite awhile, so that makes me feel pretty good.

I'm sincerely hoping that we can get the ball rolling on this.  I'm not getting any younger! lol  In the meantime, I'm feeling crampy and when I laugh or strain, my cervix hurts where she shot me with the lido.  I'm also grumpy and have accidentally taken it out on my husband multiple times.  He's bringing home pizza, which I know is counter-productive to the weight loss, but I'm writing it off as a post-gynecological procedure requirement.  I'm willing to write it on the information they gave me beforehand.  Don't even try to stop me, Physician's Assistant Lady!  I. Will. Fight You!

Plan of Attack

Who doesn't love getting up at the butt crack of dawn to shower and leave for a doctor's appointment an hour and forty minutes away?

More than that, who doesn't love waiting in the waiting room for 70 minutes watching other people who got there after you get called first?

Even more, who doesn't love the borderline high blood pressure that presents itself when at the doctor's office (probably as a result of the above two things and having to get on the scale), even though it's just fine when you take it other times?

Who doesn't love realizing that you don't have any cash on you and having to pay the $1.65 parking fee with your debit card?

Rest assured, I love all those things.  (Note the sarcasm)

The basic plan of attack is to start on my provera, and call them on CD1 to schedule my HSG.  After that, and some continued weight loss, we will do a baseline ultrasound and education on injections.  (They sent me home with a DVD on the Follistim pen to watch.  Exciting, I'm sure.)  Then, we'll do 5 days of femara followed by 3 days of follistim.  I forgot to ask if we'd be doing an IUI or the old fashioned way.  I'll have to remember to ask that when I go for my hsg.

The kicker is that I didn't even get to see the doctor!  I saw a physician's assistant, who I'd never met before.  I was in the room for maybe 20 minutes total. ugh

Anyway, that's pretty much what I learned at my appointment today.  Thrilling, eh? 

Random 50th Post

So, a few random things:

I'm in the throes of babysitting my 3 year old brother, Sam and my 4 year old sister, Mercy.  That's right! I currently have a 2 year old, a 3 year old and a 4 year old and 3 cats roaming around my house in various states of consciousness.

We started back to the WW points-counting last week.  I'm trying to get back into going to the Y, but it's proving to be more difficult that it was when the weather was nice.  Now, I'm all concerned about Ash being in the child care there, what with all the H1N1 and seasonal flu.  (He did get his vaccines, but still, I SO am not a fan of sick children!)  In nice weather, I'd just throw him the car and we'd drive to a paved road so I could walk while pushing him in the stroller.  Now, with more than a foot of snow on the ground, that doesn't work very well.  Not to mention the sub zero temps we've been enjoying the past couple of weeks...lovely.

Anyway, I'm going to try to post a small update on Mondays as to how the weight loss is going.  Maybe trying to keep myself accountable...we'll see how well that works.  I've decided Mondays are my weigh-in days, which is partly because I started the dieting on a Monday and partly because it will (hopefully) keep me on track on the weekends.  I won't tell you the weight I see on the scale, but I will tell you that I lost 4.8 pounds since last Monday! Woo!

I'm supposed to go to the RE on Thursday morning (more on the supposed to momentarily), and I'm kind of loathing it.  On one hand, I'm looking forward to getting going on doing something resembling anything on the infertility front.  However, I'm sure it will go something like, "oh...you gained some weight back since we saw you last." "Yep.  The holidays (and my general laziness) will do that, but don't worry, I'm back at it!"  "Hmmm..."  "You said you wanted to schedule an HSG, anyway, so I figure I still have awhile to lose some more before I would feasibly be housing a human being."  "True.  When do you want me to shoot dye up your hoo-haa?"  That's how I figure it will go.  I have a hard time psyching myself up for the 1 hour 40 minute drive when I usually end up spending more time in the waiting room than I do with the doctor.  ugh

I got word last night that my step-grandpa passed away.  It didn't overtly come out of left field, as he was getting up there in age, but he went pretty quickly from just being in the hospital to passing away.  We don't know when services will be, yet, but my step-mom guessed probably visitation Wednesday with funeral Thursday.  That, of course, means I'll need to reschedule my RE appointment, so I hope to find out pretty soon.

Finally, this is my 50th post! Yay, me!

An Award...

...but not one of those cute blog-reader-nominated ones.  This one is self-awarded.  I win the "World's Worst Blogger" award.  I know, big shocker.  I don't know what's up with me lately.  I guess there's just not a lot going on, so I don't have anything blog-worthy to talk about.  I did schedule my appointment with the RE (thanks to those of you who reminded me), so January 14th, I'll be making the trek to Iowa City. 

Nick and I decided that, in lieu of actual gifts for our anniversary, Christmas, and his birthday, we'd take a trip to Chicago on the train for 2 nights.  All the important things are booked already: train tickets, hotel, and Blue Man Group tickets.  Other than that, we're kind of going to fly by the seat of our pants.  One of my good online friends is going to be in Chicago the same days, so we're going to meet and do some Michigan Avenue/Watertower Place shopping and do lunch.  Oh yeah!  We're all super-excited!

Nick's been working a lot.  In addition to his 40 hour week at his real job, he does freelance stuff on the side.  He got embroiled in a project that is taking longer than anyone guessed it would, so he's been working non-stop it seems.  I'm praying that it'll wind down soon, so he'll be able to enjoy his Christmas break (since he is a U of I employee, he gets off Christmas Eve through the 4th of January!  That's nice work if you can get it!).  I've been busy buying his stocking stuffers, as we decided to go ahead with stockings so we'd have something to open Christmas morning.  Hopefully, he'll like them!  (I'd tell you what they are, but he's one of my readers, and I don't want to spoil it!)

We're in the middle of a winter storm, here.  I love winter, but only when I get to stay home.  But, as has been the case with pretty much every winter storm in the last 5 years, I have to drive to work tonight.  That's right, I have to borrow my grandpa's truck to drive to the hospital for my 11-7 shift tonight (and tomorrow!).  Joy.  These flipping storms NEVER hit when I can just enjoy family time.  Instead I get the joy of risking my life (and someone's new vehicle) so I can go to work.  Add to that that I live literally in the middle of nowhere, and I've come to the conclusion that adult life sucks.

While I'm complaining, I'd like to ask if anyone has ever noticed that pregnancy announcements come in threes?  They say that about death, too.  The most recent three in my life all became known on facebook within 48 hours of each other.  If it weren't so depressing, it would almost be comical.  Don't get me wrong, I am SUPER happy for all 3 of these couples.  They're doing it right, and they'll make great parents!  But, it's so easy to get into the "what about me?" cycle.  Whether it's "we've been married longer, why can't that be us?" or "They already have kids, why can't we spread some fertility around here?!?" (That sounds messy), I can always think of some reason why I "deserve it" more than they do. 

The fact is, though, that that is wrong of me.  But I don't know how to change it.  How to do I fix that my gut reaction to someone's pregnancy announcement is self-pity? While I outwardly congratulate them and ask all the right questions, inwardly I'm dying a little inside.  It's a little better with people who I know also struggle with infertility, as they've been where I am and I hope people will be happy for us if it ever happens.  But, I still find myself playing the "they've only been trying for 2 years, and we're a week away from our 3 year mark!" card.  I'm seriously seeking advice here, as I really would like to get over it already.

I like how I always claim to have nothing to blog about, then my blog posts are a million hours long. haha  Awesome.

Stupid Hormones...

First, a little back story.  Every year, Nick and I get each other a Christmas ornament.  It's fun to look for the perfect one, and it's fun to see the ones from previous years and reminisce about Christmases past.  We've been doing this since Christmas #1, so we each have 6 ornaments from the other on our tree.  (Of course, we also got married at Christmastime, so we have roughly a million "First Christmas Together" ornaments, a lot of which are ugly.) 

Anyway, this year, I've had a hard time finding one that I liked.  Then, I ran across some Willow Tree ornaments, which I think are gorgeous.  He got me one of them one year (2004?), and I love it.  I was thinking to myself, "Oh! Maybe they have a father and son one? That would be cute!"  Well, they don't, but they do have some figurines that are adorable.  That's when my hormones decided to kick in for some reason, and I found myself getting choked up looking at FIGURINES!  Figurines, for Pete's sake!

First, it was this one.

Then, this one blew up my screen.

As if THAT wasn't bad enough, this one hit me right in the gut.

The icing on the cake was this one.

I have one thing to say to you, Willow Tree.  You and I are broken up for the rest of the day.  Don't call again.

This and That

I'm terrible.  I know.  No need to mention it.  I keep thinking to myself that I need to write an actual blog post, but I keep finding other things to do.  I don't know why.  Maybe I just feel like there's nothing really to say?  I don't know.  But, I'm sorry nonetheless.  Let's see...what's going on?

There's a lot of drama going on at work right now (one of the hazards of working with all women, I think).  It's seriously ridiculous.  It makes my shifts seem to go on forever and my days off go by in a flash.  I'm so not a fan. 

One of my favorite coworkers is going PRN (meaning she doesn't have an actual bid, she only works when they need her), and I'll miss seeing her a lot.  However, her leaving will, in theory, mean her bid will be open.  Here's where it gets tricky.  The long-term goal for our family is for me to stay home as much as possible to be with the children (well...child, right now).  We plan to be one of those freaky homeschooling families with all the kids (or maybe just one kid?)!  I'd love to go down to the 32 hour bid that my friend had, but it makes me nervous!  I mean, I currently make half our income, so the idea of so drastically reducing my hours freaks me out a little.  My mom will tell you that their finances never worked on paper, but it somehow always worked.  The problem is, I dig it when it works on paper, too! 

I know that this is what God wants from us, but it's so hard to make that step.  The devil, in all his wisdom, places things on my mind that I might not be able to do if I reduce my hours (or he brings up expenses all of a sudden as if to say, "See!  What would happen if you didn't work as much as you do now?!? huh?!?").  For example, my oven decides to breathe it's last breath, or my 18-55mm lens decides to stop auto-focusing for no reason at all, or it's Christmas-time, or I realize that I might someday want to have a house that wasn't built before there was indoor plumbing.  (Mama, if you're reading this, don't be offended about your house!  We love it!  I just aspire to someday have a bathroom that is too big to put a foot in the bathtub while on the toilet and washing your hands!)  Don't you just hate that crafty devil?  He's the worst.

So, anyway, that's a big thing on my mind right now.  My friend's bid hasn't even been posted, yet, so it may not be an issue at all.  Still...I'm a worrier.  I come by it honest.  I'd appreciate any prayer or real-world advice any of you could give me.  Perhaps one of you is rich and looking for a young family to adopt?  We're cute.  And awesome.  And I made a killer broccoli-cheese soup for supper.

On the infertility front, we're pretty much same old, same old.  I haven't been temping this cycle, because I get so tired of my temps looking super stupid as a result of working nights. (TMI Alert) But, mid-cycle, I always try to get us on an every-other-day schedule if at all possible.  I noticed some fertile cervical fluid the other day, and informed Nick to "think sexy thoughts" because I would be requiring his services when I was done in the shower.  lol  He said, "Uh...ok.  Let me change Asher's diaper and turn on WonderPets!"  I laughed and apologized that he had to deal with a broken wife who uses him for his sperm at odd times of day.  (Ok...I didn't actually say that last part aloud, but I thought it.)  Anyway, I haven't noticed any other signs, so we'll see if my body decided to actually do something right or not.  (TMI over)

We need to get our Christmas pictures taken so Nick can design our Christmas cards.  I think I'll have someone who I'd trust with my camera come over and take our picture by the Christmas tree after we put it up.  I'll be sure to post the pic and the final card design on here so you can see it.  (Completely off-topic, but why is James Pickens, Jr. from Grey's Anatomy doing a radio spot about getting your horses vaccinated?)

I think that's probably about it.  Congrats on making it to the end of this rambling post.
 

The Witch Has Arrived

Well, she arrived in full force on Saturday.  Lucky me.  I'll be picking up my femara tonight in conjunction with some much-needed grocery shopping.  I feel terrible, because I just don't feel like it's going to work, but third time's the charm, right? *eye roll*  Nick maintains his ever-optimistic point of view, though.  I suppose one of us should.

Speaking of Nick, he called the insurance company today to inquire about a few things:

• Why are our bills from office visits with no procedures costing us more than $200 out of pocket?
• Why did a single tube of blood and it's subsequent lab-running cost nearly $300?
• What will we need to do when we go back to do our HSG/IUI/any procedure?
• Why do we have to spend thousands of dollars to do something that lots of women get to do for free? (He didn't really ask them this, but their answer would have been something like, "To keep us in business!")
  

I was on the edge of my seat...er...couch...to hear what they had to say.  I was envisioning an "Oh! We've made a mistake! Let us send you a bunch of money!" kind of conversation.  No.Such.Luck.

Basically, after we hit our deductible (it gets fuzzy after this because I literally understand nothing about insurance), they pay 90% until we've paid $1200 out of pocket for the year, then they pay 100%.  They said I've hit my deductible (yay), so they're paying 90% at this point.  This begs the question: Where, in the name of all that is holy, do they get off charging $2000 for 30 minutes in a doctor's office?!?  Unless I'm doing the math wrong, the fact that I've paid $200 for office visits, and Cigna is paying 90%, says to me that the office visits cost $2000!  Please tell me I'm wrong!  Nick forgot to ask them about the lab work, so he'll call them back soon to talk about that.

As for the procedures, we have to get pre-authorization on a procedure by procedure basis.  Is this normal?  I guess I was thinking/hoping/assuming that it would just be an umbrella pre-auth.  What I want to know is how long they're going to take to do the authorization once we tell them we are doing a procedure.  I mean, if I'm only given a week or two of warning beforehand, will that be enough time, or will I be paying out of pocket for the joy of someone shooting dye up my fallopian tubes?  I just don't know.  I mean, I guess I should be happy that we even HAVE infertility coverage, but it's such a pain in the butt, know what I mean?  They DO cover AI, IUI, and certain types of IVF (I've been putting off doing any overt research on IVF in the hopes that I won't ever need it).  However, we have MedCo for prescriptions and I hate them.  They're all about 30 day supplies of stuff, even though we keep trying to explain to them that I only need 10 pills or a week's worth of antibiotics or whatever.  ugh  It makes me wish I drank!

Anyway, this post is getting longer than I was expecting it to, and I'm sure it's bored you to death.  I'm very sorry.  Hopefully soon, my hormones will make me be in a better mood and all my posts won't be whiny.  One can only hope.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day

Seems like a strange "holiday," doesn't it?

However, for the thousands of families who have been touched by miscarriage, still birth or infant/child loss, it's a day that draws some much-needed attention.  There are women who get pregnant and get the joy of being totally oblivious to beta numbers, progesterone levels, and symptom checking.  They go about their merry ways and 40-ish weeks later...VOILA! A beautiful, pink squirming baby arrives and every one cheers.  They continue on with life, repeating the cycle a handful of times.  I have nothing against these women. I am related to or friends with many of them.  I love them with all my heart.  But, they will never know the pain of seeing that bright red blood on the toilet paper for the first time.  They will never have to be told by a doctor, "I'm sorry, but the baby has no heartbeat."  They will never be called out of a dead sleep by a nurse or doctor to be told to come to the NICU to spend the last few minutes or hours their baby will spend on this earth.  They will never have the sheer terror of going to retrieve their infant out of their crib, and seeing that SIDS has taken their beautiful, perfect baby from them.  The list goes on and on...

While, I unfortunately have to be a member of this "club," it's not for myself that I am overcome with sadness today.  For me, I would have been blissfully unaware of my miscarriage had I not chosen to test when I did.  I sometimes wonder if that would have been better.  However, I think it gives me a little peek of understanding into the lives of these unwitting club members.  My heart is broken today for the women who got to enjoy the internal presence of their babies for weeks or months or a full 40 weeks, only to have to unexpectedly say goodbye.  I know their pain must be a hundred times worse than the pain I felt upon seeing that second line had disappeared.

I'd like to ask you, my lovelies, to join me in prayer for these women and families today.  There are two families in the forefront of my mind today.  Perhaps you'd like to join me in prayer for them?

My sister found out yesterday that she has suffered a third miscarriage.  She was about 12 weeks.  She was given no warning...no sudden lessening of sickness or fatigue...no bleeding or cramping...nothing.  She had to be told by a dis-compassionate midwife that "the baby is dead and has no heartbeat."  She had to hear her precious baby referred to as "tissue" to be removed.  To top it off, she has to walk around for almost a week knowing that her baby is no longer with her, but is still very much with her.  Her D+C is scheduled for next Tuesday.  My heart is broken for her, and I wish I knew what I could do to help her other than answering her questions and just being present for her should she need me.  And, of course, letting her know that God knows her pain, because He, too, had to give up a child.

The other family are the ones I shared with you previously.  These internet friends of mine have just had to bury their 2nd child in 11 months.  The first was a still birth, and the most recent was born at 35 weeks and found to unexpectedly have a genetic defect.  This family is handling this with such grace and love that it warms my heart.  They've been able to take a trip as a couple and know that their two girls, Casey and Avery, would have wanted it that way.  I pray that God will wrap His arms around them and help them to know that their girls are with Him.

I'm sure you know of other families affected by pregnancy or infant loss.  I'd love to know who they are so I can pray with you for them today.

The Ubiquitous Single Line

Ugh.

I mean, really?

I can't think of any 3 minute increments that I hate more than the 3 minutes between the dip and the read.

Perhaps you've lived this scene, as well?
Disposable cup with fresh pee?  Check!
Ridiculously expensive stick with absorbent tip?  Oh yeah!
Husband standing by to say, "I'm sorry, baby"?  You know it!
Knowledge that there will only be 1 line there, but secretly hoping to see 2?  Unfortunately, yes.
Working very hard to throw yourself into making muffins, all the while being unable to function at a normal level? Yep!

I lived it (again!) this morning.  I knew it would be negative, but I wanted to get it over with.  I'll be starting my provera on Thursday, and we have one more refill of Femara left.  I'm thinking we'll do this last cycle, and take the rest of the year off.  I'll try to get a January appointment with the RE, to move on to the next step.

But, in the meantime, in the back of my mind, I always see a single pink line...

Then, I begin to feel bad that I get so down about my infertility, when there are people with much bigger issues to work through.

Case in point, a very good internet friend of mine unexpectedly lost her newborn daughter to a genetic defect they didn't know she had before she was born a week and a half ago.  To make matters worse, last November, this same couple lost an unborn daughter midway through the pregnancy with no warning.  No one should have to bury one child, much less two in 11 months!  Please keep this couple in your prayers at this difficult time.

A Minor Rant...and Information

So, I promise to make this short, since I know you all (all 3 of you...lol) probably tire of hearing me whine and complain. Over the last week or so, I've had a handful of people ask me, "So, are you still trying to get pregnant?!?" To which I respond with "Yeah...thanks for bringing it up!" in a very joking-but-not-really tone. What's worse, is that one person asked me this one week, then asked me again the next time I saw them! I said, "Dude, you asked me that last week, but thanks for bringing it up...again." (again, in the joking-but-not-really tone.)

Now, I know they're just trying to be helpful, be an active member in my life, be friendly...all that crap, but here's what gets me: they obviously don't take the time to think about how this question will feel to me. Case in point...1) If, for some reason, we had decided to put our trying to conceive on hold, them bringing it up will simply re-open scars that are not even close to being healed. 2) If we ARE still trying, them bringing it up only helps to remind me that it hasn't happened yet. These are really the only 2 outcomes. I'm not sure if they're hoping I'll confide in them and tell them I'm actually pregnant right that second, or what, but it's kind of irritating.

...don't even get me started on people accusing me of being pregnant whenever I'm tired, hungry, or whatever. (In case you were curious, my usual, intended-to-be-witty response to this one is "No! It's the wrong time in my cycle! Would you like to look at my chart?")

My rant is over...for awhile, anyway. haha

(Side Note: I don't mind when people ask questions about the actual process, or what steps we've taken, or whatever. For some reason, that doesn't bother me, just like it doesn't bother me if people comment on my blog about it, since, well, that's partially what my blog is about!)

In case you were all curious (again...all 3 of you) about what we're trying this cycle, I thought I'd let you know. This cycle, we're trying Femara, which studies have shown tends to work better to bring on ovulation in women with poly-cystic ovaries. This is our second attempt with it (after 5 rounds of clomid), and it's not looking promising. My temperatures are being really stupid. Maybe it's working nights, maybe my body is smoking crack and not telling me. I don't know. Anyway, this medication is entirely too expensive for my liking, which REALLY makes me wish it would work so I don't have to dole out almost $100 for 10 pills again...or have to move on to injections, which are CRAZY expensive.

The plan, as of the last time I trekked to Iowa City for my RE appointment, was to try 3 rounds of femara, then, if that didn't work, to try a procedure where they shoot dye up my fallopian tubes and do an x-ray type thing to make sure they're not blocked. I can't remember what it's called...ugh. (You may be curious why they didn't do that before I dropped $300 on medications. The answer is, evidently, that I don't have any of the risk factors for blocked tubes, so the doc didn't think we needed to do it immediately.) Once that was done, the doctor plans to move on to injections. Boy, oh, boy!

Well, if you've made it to the end of this post, you deserve a prize. Unfortunately, I don't have anything to give you. Go out and get yourself something nice...

*This Could Get Depressing, You've Been Warned!*

I'm not feeling like myself. It's hard to explain. Between people I know getting pregnant, shelling out $400 for an unsuccessful cycle (infertility coverage, my behind!), realizing that said infertility is coming up on 3 years in length, I'm having a hard time being my usual, upbeat self.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for the people who are expecting, I really am! I don't think people should stop having kids until I can catch up, or anything. (Although...) However, it is hard when I realize that, while I'm still trying to attain my first viable pregnancy, some uber-fertile women are on their second or third. Add to that the fact that some of these women are having their babies in less-than-perfect situations, and I have a hard time not wallowing in my own self-pity.

However, in times like this, I am extra-thankful for Asher. While I realize that I may never be blessed with my own birth children, I am still blessed beyond words to have him in my life.

Have I reached the point where I can honestly say I'd be happy just having Nick and Asher in my little family? Not quite yet. I think about the scene toward the end of "Facing the Giants" (have you seen that? You should!) where the wife has just gotten done at the doctor and found out she's not pregnant. She's praying while getting into her truck and says she's realized that she CAN be happy without children. She's crying, and of course, the audience is crying. (I seriously start crying at the beginning of that movie and just never stop. It's terrible.) Anyway, my point is, I haven't reached that point. How do I get there? Does it just take a lot of time? I REALLY hope this doesn't go on long enough for me to have to think that way.

I get down-trodden thinking that I may never get the joy of buying Asher an "I'm the Big Brother" shirt. Or get to slip an ultrasound picture nonchalantly into a Christmas card to give to new grandparents. Or see the joy on the faces of my husband and son as they feel a baby kicking within my womb. Or that I may never get to see Nick hold a brand-new baby in his strong arms--a tiny baby we created together.

Unfortunately, these are the things I've been thinking about recently, and I wish I could make it stop.