Inconceivable

Despite my outwardly blase appearance toward 'trying' this month - me trying to get pregnant? Not! Watch me as I down my martini while riding a roller coaster, then soak in a hot tub for an inordinate amount of time, follow it up with pure caffeine pills and finally, hang on for dear life on a ride with a thoroughbred race horse - inwardly, I was secretly hoping for the ultimate surprise: a conception that required nothing more than two people, some wine and a bed. Things were really promising too, since last year after my miscarriage, I had the period that would not end and ultimately got a progesterone shot in the ass to re-set the ole system. This time, it was a picture perfect cycle.

So, on Sunday morning when I noticed some spotting, I knew that once again I was thwarted and we would be back on Dr. Uterus's roster of Unfortunate Infertile Couples.

A few days earlier, when I was still holding out a teensy bit of hope, I saw a woman walking in front of my house with her two year old. I had seen her before and the beginnings of a tell-tale bulge, but I had chosen to think that her t-shirt was just bunched in an odd way. This time around, though, it was obvious that she had The Bump, and I decided in my infinite wisdom that she had acquired The Bump in the way that most people do - in the privacy of their homes, without drama or fanfare and most certainly without needles, drugs or other paraphernalia. And that depressed me. Who was I to think that we would be able to do that - even now, more than three years since we started down the road to expand our family? What a silly infertile girl you are, thinking that you could get knocked up like everyone else. Don't you know that you're Special (and not in a good way)?

Such is the internal monologue of an Infertile Girl.

Once again, I am coming to terms with the fact that I will most likely not be able to conceive on my own, for whatever reason, and that assisted reproductive technology is my ticket to the Baby Game. I used to find this incredibly unfair. Now I've progressed to mildly unfair. Progress! Two-plus years of having the same thought over and over again will tend to smooth it out, rought out the edges and leave a smaller (and hopefully less painful) nugget than when you started.

Being that it is CD 1 today, I called Nurse To a T (Dr. Uterus's right-hand lady) and scheduled the mock cycle for the FET in August. I tried not to think about the fact that we also started trying again last year in August after the last miscarriage and it was a bust. I'm trying not to believe that I am only fertile in February since that is the month when I have gotten pregnant two years in a row now. I start the Estrace tomorrow (that's a new one for me) and will do the PIO injections starting in July. I had originally decided to go with the capsules (Endometrin?) but two things mitigated against it - expense and we won't have the results of an endometrial biopsy for almost two weeks, during which time I will be starting up for the real-deal FET. If the Endometrin didn't work, that would be a terrible time to find out. So, it's back to the butt shots for me.

And, just for sh*ts and giggles, I'll pick up an HPT to make certain, before I start pumping my body full of estrogen, that there really is no alien invasion. I'm not expecting a last minute reprieve, but it's a lot easier to pee on the stick when you don't think you're pregnant than when you do - which is probably why I hardly ever indulge.

Never a dull moment, here at the Young and the Infertile. Will she? Won't she? Tune in to find out!

image: jillhudgins

Vampira Tales

Thanks to everyone for your lovely wishes on our anniversary and Big Red finally showing up. Only in this alternate universe of infertility would I be happy that my period showed up the day before my wedding anniversary. We had a wonderful dinner and talked about all of the wonderful times we have had together. Then we went home like the old married people we are and went to sleep at 10:30pm.

Yesterday, I had another date with Vampira at the blood lab to get my weekly HCG reading. The first time I went to the lab, the person was wonderfully efficient and I hardly felt a thing. The second time, I had Vampira - a different lady who was exceedingly nice (and dear Lord was she cheerful which is not compatible with me at 8am on a Monday) - but it was a terrible stick. My entire arm felt bruised for the rest of the week, and I swear I still had a slight bruise yesterday - a full week later.

Well, yesterday, when I went back for my weekly bloodletting, Vampira was there by herself, which meant I was at her mercy. I had her poke the right arm this time since the left one still hasn't completely healed and wouldn't you know, another terrible stick. I don't know what I'm going to do when I go back next week and she is still the only one there! Can you tell someone to poke you better next time? It seems like that would be like telling someone to brush their teeth differently after they had been brushing for 30 years.

Despite being poked to high heaven by Vampira and looking as if I am offically a junkie, there is good news. The quant is now in the triple, rather than quadruple digits. As of yesterday, it was 886 - a nice 63% drop from last week, in case you were wondering. It is 88% lower than my first post-D&C quant. I know, though, that it will probably take at least a full six weeks (or maybe even longer) like it did last time to get to the magic <5.>

I had the same flash of frustration that I had each prior Monday when I realized this and understood again that the frustration was due to my desire to feel like I was making some kind of progress in getting pregnant (rather than getting unpregnant). But, then I thought of the alternative. What if I was able to get pregnant next month? Frankly, that would suck. I would be wreck and would be pregnant in Paris. So, I will continue on my path to acceptance that a slow drop in the HCG means a long time to heal and actually be ready to try again.

We also haven't gotten the results from the karyotype. I looked back at my records from last year and saw that we had them at about 2.5 weeks after the D&C. It's now been 3 weeks. I mentioned it to the nurse and she is going to check. I'm not giving much thought as to what the results might show. This is one area where my predictions totally suck, so I'm just not going to waste my time.

Off to bed, and hopefully, tomorrow morning, I will not wake up freezing with a cat hogging the covers. This actually happened this morning. I haven't decided if I should forgive him.

Newsflash!

We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you this important announcement:

"Mrs. X has FINALLY gotten her period. Film at 11."

Yes, finally, I have been cursed and I haven't been this happy about it since I was in college.
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Thanks to everyone who chimed in on my friend John*. You are all absolutely right (as you were last time) that I should block his sorry ass to kingdom come. But, I have a confession: I am secretly hoping that he sees the errors of his ways and sends me a heartfelt email begging for forgiveness. This is probably as likely as a) hell freezing over; b) me winning the lottery; and, c) me winning Miss America - all at the same time. But, so far, it's what has held me back from blocking his email.

And, in the event he does send me another super-insensitive email after I asked him not to, I want to tell him point blank that I'm blocking him and why.
____________________________________________________________________ image: Sunfox
In other news, five years ago today, I went from being single to married. Yep, Sweetie and I tied the knot today five years ago in a beautiful ceremony with about 75 people. I'd post pics, but that would totally blow my cover. So, instead, I'll quote some language from the lovely note my mom sent us (which the Bad One just bit - little bastard!) which I think sums it up perfectly:

"Congratulations on the occasion of your 5th wedding anniversary! We're happy to know that yours is a good, strong marriage with lots of laughter in it. And our best wishes for happiness in the years to come. The first five have been adventuresome. What will the next five be like?"

We also treat our wedding anniversary as the kitties' birthday - since we got them eight weeks after our wedding and they were eight weeks old. So far, the Bad One is celebrating by being an extra nuisance. He has quite a knack for this.

I'm also happy to report that, on this auspicious day, I haven't really thought about how long we've been married and that we don't have children yet. I've just thought about what a wonderful time we've had with each other (and continue to have).

Little steps, always.

Perfect Timing

The New York Times today had a wonderful article on trying again after recurrent miscarriage.

In more sucky perfect timing, the woman sitting next to me at Subway today was a) very pregnant and b) reading What to Expect When You Are Expecting while sucking down Cheetos. Thanks for that. Knowing that I could drink caffeine and eat deli meats when she couldn't didn't make me feel one bit better about not being pregnant (again).