blueeyedwifey-blog

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

The Other Stuff

Pregnancy is showcased as Glowing Health and those ever so sweet baby kicks. The only time movies portray the less glamorous side of baby-growing is the one time the actress throws up, and when she goes into labor. I'm here to set the record straight, y'all. Pregnancy is uncomfortable. Guys, don't give your lady shit for her complaints during pregnancy. It will not end well. I promise.

Let's start with morning sickness. You can't brush your teeth at first because doing so triggers your gag reflex and whelp, there goes your stomach contents. Even thinking about the smell of toothpaste set me off. Smells. The thought of certain foods. Moving the wrong way. Eating. Not eating. Breathing. (Okay not really). Oh, and 'morning sickness' is the understatement of the century. It can pop up any time of the day it damn well feels like it. It can even hang around all day. The best is when you are trying to sleep and you get that feeling of 'Hey! I drank too much alcohol and now the room is spinning!', except you get all of the horribleness without the alcohol. Also, I don't know who decided that 12 weeks was the magical number where it supposedly stops, but that is A LIE. THEY. ARE. LIARS.

So your morning sickness finally stops (but not really, because I still throw up sometimes). Then you have the fact that you are so incredibly tired like all the time but things still have to get done in between puking sessions and Lort help you if you already have kids because you are screwed. You were in last place before the race even started, sweetie. Mr. Blondie is kind of like a kid. He can't cook to save his life, so I had to brave the smells of dinner and cook for him. I still don't have tons of energy. I'm 20 weeks and could still sleep all day, even though every website says "YASSS 2nd trimester you get all of that energy back!". No. First trimester, you are exhausted all the time because your body is in overdrive, and the second trimester you don't sleep because your body aches and can't get comfortable so it needs a nap. Especially if you were once a stomach sleeper. You might as well just toss the idea of sleeping out the window. Consider it practice. Make a game out of it. 'How many hours of sleep can I function on today?' It's like college finals all over again.

I will say my emotions have been pretty steady. Compared to PMS, pregnancy has been a walk in the park! When I do get upset or angry, it goes 0-100 reaaalll quick. A nurse pissed me off at an appointment, and I thought I was going to rip her head off of her neck. You will not be happy-go-lucky your whole pregnancy. My anxiety has shot through the roof, especially right before bed. It's not even about Squid or anything. It's literally things that happened 10 years ago that no one else even gave a second thought. 'Ugh why did I wear that sweater in 6th grade?' Your skin is either great, or it's fucked. There's no in between. Some weeks my skin looks flawlessly airbrushed and others it looks like I just hit puberty.

Growing hurts. You get period-like cramps in the beginning weeks, but once you actually start getting a bump, your stomach is sore, as if you did a hardcore stomach workout. (Mr. Blondie could be specific here, but since I know almost nothing about working out, we'll just leave it at that). It's from your ligaments stretching and whatnot, but I feel like gravity also plays a role because if I'm walking around a lot, my lower abdomen starts to ache. Your boobs hurt. You might scream if you bump into something because they are sensitive. You get leg aches like an old person. Oh! Then there's indegestion/heartburn. I didn't even know something could be so annoyingly painful. It starts it your stomach (which has been smushed upwards by your uterus, look it up) and slowly bubbles its way up into your throat. It feels like drinking a warm bubbly Coke, but in reverse. Mine always shows up when I lay down, no matter how long ago I ate. Cheese is the devil. I avoid it, except whenever I cave and eat a pizza.

Then there's just gross stuff that no one talks about because it's mortifying. I'm here to take the bullet, ladies. Your hair grows faster everywhere, unless you're lucky enough to have had laser hair removal. But shaving takes so. long. and you just don't have that kind of energy, so you put it off...and put it off. Everyone knows that women produce discharge (especially when you are ovulating), but that shit can become a leaky faucet during pregnancy. It serves a purpose - it keeps bacteria away. Your nipples get darker or turn wonky colors, along with skin on your knees, elbows, etc. Your nipples will also eventually leak (this hasn't happened yet, thank God.) Probably the worst is that your lady bits get swollen due to the fact that you have considerably more blood circulating in that general area. I read it in an article several weeks ago, and brushed it off. Pssh! I've only gained about 8 lbs during pregnancy thus far, so I figured I would dodge this particular symptom. Nope. It will happen to you.

Then you have random inconveniences. Congestion that doesn't go away. Your eyesight fluctuates. Your cat that loves to step all over your stomach to hopefully off the baby because she doesn't like to share attention. Your boobs get bigger, which is a blessing and a curse depending on who you ask. Sex drive fluctuates. All this shit happens and more that either I haven't experienced or forgot. Except actual shit, because you're constipated.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Lazy Sunday

So I've been lazy - like super lazy. I didn't want to write an update, because I knew I would end up giving the news early. Instead, I avoided the blog like the plague.

England is different. The food, the way of life, driving, shopping, even movies are different. Want to go to the movies? It's called the Cinema here, and you have to pick your seats. You have assigned seats at the movie theater. Want a quick meal? Good luck finding a drive thru, or cheap food for that matter. Pizza tastes healthy - cheese isn't as processed here and is less greasy (read: cheese-like). The weather is awful. It's not the cloudiness, it's the wet and cold, along with the fact that it gets dark at 4:00PM. Everything is historical old. Sounds cool right? No. It means all the streets are tiny and parking is nonexistent, because the buildings were built hundreds of years ago. Malls/Target/Walmart? Nope. Starbucks? No (okay, there's a few), but they have Costa, which is like a less awesome version.

Basically, Mr. Blondie and I miss the States. It's nice to get to see some history, but we can't travel to Europe for a weekend jaunt due to his work position at the moment. Once we are able to travel in a couple months, I'm pretty sure we'll rather stay at home and get things all squared away.

Now for the fun part! Most of you know from Facebook, but we are expecting. Yay! Back in October, I ordered a bunch of cheap ovulation sticks, and the company throws in pregnancy tests with every order. Amazon is a Godsend. I just so happened to pick them up on our anniversary. They're like money burning a hole in your pocket- if you've got some, you gotta use it. We always alternate on who gets to drink if we go out so there's no question of "You okay to drive?". We were planning on going to the same restaurant we went to for Mr. Blondie's birthday. All you can eat, that you cook at your table. You can either have dinner accompanied by all you can drink sangria or wine. It was my turn. MY TURN. With those tests sitting in the bathroom, homegirl made the mistake of testing for shits and giggles. I should have known better, but my period wasn't even due for another week and a half, and there was no way I'd be pregnant anyway. Well, there was a line. Glitchy test? Nope, still there on the next one. Poor Mr. Blondie was taking a shower when I ran upstairs and threw open the shower door to show him. Needless to say, I did not get my sangria. We ended up going to a local Indian restaurant so I didn't have to watch my husband drink what I was robbed of.

Obviously, not drinking sangria is not the end of the world. After dinner, Dr. Google helped us find out that we are due July 4th, which is the day I miscarried Squish. How crazy is that?! Finding out on our anniversary AND my due date is so special! Baby Blondie is referred to as Squid, sibling to Squish. It was a joke that stuck, so don't ask. I found out in Week 3, which is early, and made us super paranoid. I didn't even want to breathe the wrong way. I did end up going to the ER two Friday nights in a row - Weeks 5 and 6. I kept spotting and no one could tell me why. They kept saying 'Well it could be an indicator of miscarriage, or it could be normal. There's a heartbeat for now, so you have to wait and see.' A couple days after the first ER trip, I saw OB on base, and the Doctor reassured me all was well. Still no explanation why I bled off and on from an actual Doctor who specializes in pregnancy. In Week 7, I finally saw an awesome Doctor (Dr. Sparkle), and found out I had a cyst that was just bleeding out and shrinking. Mr. Blondie and I have been spoiled because we've gotten to see our Squid more times than most people get to.

Let's talk morning sickness. I finally just got over it at 11 weeks, except if I smell something terrible/strong, or I wake up early to go with Mr. Blondie to base. It lasted from the moment I woke up, and didn't end. All day I could barely move, and when it came time to sleep, it got even worse. Throwing up in the middle of the night is not fun, especially when you've been doing it throughout the day as well. My mother, on the other hand, told me she barely had any sickness with any of her three kids. Talk about jealousy.

Squid is super healthy, and Dr. Sparkle said morning sickness is tied to healthier pregnancies. 12 weeks tomorrow (12/20/16), and only 4 more weeks until we *hopefully* find out if Squid is a boy or girl!

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Back into the Fray

I love military doctors. Not.

Last week I made the decision to start the whole process over again. (Am I crazy? The answer is yes.) In the military, before you can even get in to see an actual gynecologist or, you know, anyone who knows anything about how a woman's body works, you have to see your Primary Care Manager. This is a doctor, but not always a "doctor", who generalizes in Family Health. Thus far into my infertility career, I have had my original OBGYN, Dr. Ditz, Dr. Lady, all of their students, several nurses/techs, and now basically McLovin' if he were 40 years older, looking at the goods (if you know what I mean.)

Guys, he couldn't even talk about my -GASP- cycle. It was like so totally icky to him. He is a Nurse Practioner, so I guess almost a doctor. But we both know he didn't sign up for this shit. He didn't know what a laparoscopy hysteroscopy or hysterosalpingogram were, which, to his credit, aren't common in Family Health. After explaining all of my procedures and such, McLovin' scheduled me for an ultrasound. Now, I don't know if y'all remember, but endometriosis doesn't show up on ultrasounds. At all. It's invisible, because it looks just like regular 'ole tissue. Military doctors are also famous for prescribing Motrin for everything. Guess who got 800grams of Motrin prescribed for period pain? Guess what doesn't do shit for period pain? Me, and Motrin.

I let him schedule the ultrasound anyway. I know no matter what, I'll have to jump through all of their hoops to get what I want; a repeat HSG (hysterosalpingogram). I really want to know if my tubes are still shot to hell or not. It's kind of a big deal. I figure at the worst there's nothing, and I insist on a HSG or referral. At best, they see polyps or something and I get the referral that way.

I go in for the ultrasound, and the military nurse looks so done with everything, like 'Man, I have seen some shit today'. She takes a ton of screen shots (like over 100) and then I'm on my way. I could see in some of them that there were little pockets of bloodflow, so maybe that's good. Or bad. I have yet to return their call with the results. Cons of only having one cell phone at the moment.

I also ordered some uber fun ovulation sticks and Serrapeptase today. I'm going back to tracking ovulation because as far as I know, Mr. Blondie and I have been on time, but obviously my body hates me and maybe it's tricking me. Side note: Timed sex sucks and takes the fun out of everything. Super side note: It leads to lots of arguments. Serrapeptase is an enzyme from unicorn farts silk worms. It "supposedly" dissolves endo tissue. Dr. Ditz is the one who told me it's hoodoo, but homegirl is going to try it regardless. If I'm lucky, I'll grow horns and a tail, too. I know several women who swear by it, so I figure why not. I'm also ordering DHEA, which is some kind of vitamin that was recommended by a very close friend to increase egg quality. Pretty soon I'll have a whole tray of pills, like a nursing home patient. Maybe I'll make a rainbow out of them.

One thing I wish I could stomach is the Food Grade Hydrogen Peroxide. A nurse friend of mine told me that essentially, Endo is kind of like a bacterial infection, and the hydrogen peroxide gets rid of it. It's been shown to clear up certain cancers that function like bacterial infections as well. This lady has her Masters in Nursing, so I know she knows her shit. When I was taking it, it made me so sick. Like I was drunk. I mentioned before that it burns your skin on contact, and diluting it precisely is important. It starts off with 1-2 drops per 8oz of water, and then you increase over the next few weeks. You can't eat or drink for 2 hours before or after, because the hydrogen peroxide can react with something in your stomach and make you bleed internally. No matter what I did, it just made me feel terrible, so I stopped taking it. Hopefully these other things work well.

Even if I get a repeat HSG, and exhaust all options through the military, they still won't cover IVF or anything like it. Our back up plan was simple. My father is a British citizen, therefore, I am a British citizen by descent. I qualify for the National Health Society here in the UK because of this. (Yay!) This means that if I meet their criteria, which I do, they will cover 100% of IVF, as long as I go through one of their clinics. Awesome right? Until I called the Passport office. My mom remarried when I was 7 or 8. My stepdad adopted my sister and I and he is the one on our birth certificates now. Even if we supply the adoption paperwork and everything else, my father, whom I am still close with, is basically null and void. Up until about an hour ago, I thought this was a really solid plan, but like everything else in our lives, things just don't work out in our favor. I'm about to start a GoFundMe, the epitome of pathetic. (Not really, I feel like those are kind of greedy)

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

#infertilityprobs

My period started today, so I’m sitting here debating whether I really need a couch to sit on when I could be putting that money towards another IVF cycle.

Yes. You read correctly. We sit on our bed most of the time, anyway, and it’s not like we have friends to invite over.

Oh come on, obviously, we're going to buy a couch. That nonsense is just my raging, untreated depression talking. (Did I say that? My excuse is I don't do well on meds.) We are in this glorious new place and have so much to explore, and all I think about is how it's another month spent worrying about timing and other useless information. In between my shopping for couches, of course. And bedding. And a bedframe. And knick-knacks to decorate our beautiful, empty house with. A house I had envisioned taking a picture in front of for Christmas cards (because I am a firm believer in every kind of card) with a nice little baby bump. Remember, we found out I was pregnant AND that we were going to the UK all within 24 hours, but you know, too much good karma and POP! goes the weasel.

I'm not exactly sure what triggered me once we got here. The fact that I no longer had the excitement of the move? Being away from my mom? (My 16 year old self would be appalled at that, but I miss my mom like crazy.) Being surrounded by endless seas of pregnant military spouses? Seriously, it's like it comes with the job. It's as if the God I don't believe in is Oprah and the audience is all military spouses.

(And I'm Gretchen Weiners, and yes, *you're)

For example, Mr. Blondie and I went to a community garage sale on the base a couple weeks ago. We thought we might find some cheap stuff for the house. We did score a $1 Brita pitcher, go us! This was among the HOARDS of baby clothes. 45 houses. Every. Single. House. Honestly, I would just buy into the whole "Spouses are forever! Let's get together for coffee once a week and plan out our patriotic Pinterest projects!" thing if I knew it'd get me what I wanted. Also, I love Pinterest. Sorry for hating on Pinterest. Forgive me. They joke it's in the water here, so I'm downing it like there's about to be a drought.

I suppose I should stop being bitter. It is, coincidentally, Mr. Blondie’s birthday today. Poor thing had to be up at 5AM for some meeting. We will be celebrating this weekend by going out a restaurant where you can eat all that you want, provided you cook it on your little tabletop grill. Followed by a pub, because England. We might even go to the zoo. Although I really want to go into London.

I say that. Then I instantly don't want to. I don't want to deal with people. I am constantly faced with "if we do that, that's less money being saved." I can't even enjoy my time abroad because this affects so much of our lives. Even then, my painscale has increased the last couple of months, so periods are a literal pain once more. Periods have gotten progressively worse, as we knew they would. My laparoscopy last September (holy shit it's been a year), which diagnosed and cleared out all the bad endometriosis tissue, was only a temporary fix. As soon as I got my first period after (which was within a month), that tissue started stockpiling again. It was projected I'd be back to my pre-surgery pain within 6 months, I made it roughly 9, so I feel lucky in that aspect.

But I digress.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

No news is no news?

It's been 2 months since I last wrote. We arrived in the UK a week ago two weeks ago, and we moved into our house over the weeknd! Mr. Blondie will be very proud to rub it in my face that he is the one who discovered our house. I wanted a house that was the Dursley's (yes, from Harry Potter) address. He said it was too small. HOW OFTEN IN A LIFETIME DO YOU GET TO HAVE HARRY POTTER'S ADDRESS?! We compromised, something I never do. I got a house in the neighborhood I wanted, he got a bigger detached house.

It's been a tough road getting here, to say the least. The stress of the move, combined with dealing with my miscarriage, has been rough on both Mr. Blondie and myself. We argued a lot. I had to make sure that all of my clearances were done, and after that, I had to insist that Mr. Blondie's supervisor's had all of the paperwork. (They lost some of it, and then magically found it again.) He had tests to take and his own paperwork to deal with. We got different answers regarding the same things every where we went. I'm sure you can imagine the "I'm right, you're wrong" conversations that went down. On top of that, money was tight because we needed to save for the surprise expenses we knew we would encounter once across the pond.

We got our official orders and our plane tickets all in the same day, after being stuck at his tech school base for a couple weeks after everyone else in his class got to leave. We left for a week long visit home the next morning. The visit was great, made even better by the fact that my period was almost a week late. A good sign! Except, the morning we left for the airport to fly to the UK it decided to show. So you know, that was fun. -eyeroll-

Now we're here, and we were stuck in a hotel for almost 2 weeks. It's not as fun as it sounds, I promise. Mr. Blondie and I couldn't even pretend we were on a nice holiday, because during the week he was at briefings and such. We only had a microwave, so it was frozen dinners and takeaway, the latter of which has all been delicious.

There's several villages around us, which is actually really nice! Each village has like one subdivision. They also have a community center/football(soccer) field and a school, although come to think of it, I've only seen primary schools. By 'villages', I mean that there's some local resaurants (maybe 3 or 4) on a main street that's maybe a quarter-mile long, surrounded by houses. We went to Cambridge to shop last weekend, as that is the closest mall. It was roughly 30 minutes away, so not too terrible of a drive.

Driving really isn't that different, except the highways (motorways) and road signs are a little weird. Round abouts are the shit. Like, why does America even have stop lights?! Round abouts are leaps and bounds more convenient. A two lane road is a single carriageway, four lane is a double carriageway. Parking is a nightmare. We bought a car from a fellow military member, and the next day it was smoking from the tailpipe. Took it to a shop, and it's going to cost 600 pounds to fix it, which is roughly $800. On the bright side, the seller offered to pay half the cost because he honestly had no idea and felt terrible. We have no furniture, so we're sleeping on the floor, until our rental furniture is delivered later this week. The food is so good. (Did I mention that already? I did? OK.)

Baby stuff has kind of been put on hold, but not really? We have two extra bedrooms *hint hint*. We have no idea if I can get pregnant again, and the closest facility is in London (which is about an hour and a half away). Even then, the cost is another factor. We're waiting to get reimbursed for some of the moving costs, but others will just be completely out of poket for us. Surprisingly, one cycle of IVF here is about half the cost! The clinic even offers a discount of doing 3 cycles for the cost of 2.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Holiday

Well, our last 4th of July in the US of A couldn't have gone any worse. Except if a meteor had crashed into Earth.

If you missed it, we found out we were expecting. (Pt 2 of that update, here.) That bliss quickly came to a close this Holiday weekend.

Friday went by without any bumps until I spotted brown blood, which is completely normal. It usually signals that the embryo is just implanting deeper into the uterus. Brown blood = old blood. No cause for concern. Then came the mildest of cramps. Mind you, I had cramps around the time we first found out, but they subsided, so I still didn't think too much of it. Me being the Paranoid Wifey I am, we decided to go to the ER, just in case. Mr. Blondie and I were at the ER all evening, and well into the night. They gave me an IV, to make getting blood for labs easier. All the nurses commented on my tiny veins and the poor nurse who got stuck inserting the IV had a hell of a time. It took her a couple minutes to get the catheter into my vein, by which time my vision was blacking out at the edges. So that was fun.

Then came the tests. They took several vials of blood. I gave a urine sample. I was wheeled off to radiology for external and internal ultrasounds. The tech (who was a civilian in flip flops, jeans, and a tank top in a MILITARY hospital) obviously didn't want to be there. She said nothing from the time the nurse dropped me off, to when she picked me back up. They informed me they would have to call the radiologist who was at home to view the ultrasound pictures. He would then give his findings to my ER doctor. A nurse came back and took more blood. I still had no more bleeding and no more cramping. We told each other all was well, and we discussed getting cake afterwards. We love cake.

So we waited. And waited. And waited. For 2 hours we sat in my room, twiddling our thumbs for someone to give us answers. When the doctor came in, it was pretty obvious she didn't bring good news. She said the ultrasound had only shown the sac, no embryo. My HCG had gone down to 2268. 4 days prior it had been 2400. It should have been up to at least 6-7000 by then. It was almost definite I would lose the baby.

Denial is a funny thing. On TTC boards, it's referred to as "Having a Unicorn"; you believe in the impossible and improbable. We didn't have a unicorn that night. Instead, we went home in disbelief and cried. A lot. We wanted our little squish to be okay, which was certainly not the case. Squish wasn't even there anymore. The ultrasound proved that. Why was this happening to us? Surely, surely, we deserved some good news in our lives.

Saturday morning our unicorns showed up. There was no blood, no cramps. The doctors had to have been wrong. I felt fine! We made up excuses. The ultrasound tech was an idiot. The ER doctor misread the HCG level. Then the blood came back, and it was darker. So our unicorn changed. Maybe I was having twins and just one didn't make it. That would have been okay. Dr. Google proved that HCG can (rarely) decline and then rise again. Somehow this would work out. There was no way after everything it took to get to this point, that it would be ripped away from us so soon. But it was.

Sunday morning we accepted our fate. I had cramps. Bad ones. There was darker blood, and more of it. By the afternoon it was bright red and I was in agonizing pain. Our unicorns had been killed. We spent the rest of the weekend laying in bed. Mr. Blondie got us cupcakes, so we could eat our sadness. We had a lot of sadness. We ate a lot of cupcakes.

I finally got a redraw on 7/7, almost a week after the ER visit. We already knew it would be low. I didn't get out of bed all week due to the pain (both emotional and physical), it was obvious this wasn't a case of a vanishing twin. Dr. Ditz' s office called to say my HCG was at 358, and I would need to return once a week until it fell below 5. If all the trauma of the last week hadn't cemented in reality, that number sure did.

The worst of it is that we don't know how I got pregnant in the first place. Was it because of all of the meds from IVF? Was it a leftover egg? Did retrieval somehow poke a hole in my tubes? Am I somehow fixed? (Endo can't be cured, so I doubt that's the answer). This could have been the perfect storm, so to speak, and we may not be able to recreate it. Moving overseas means being completely unable to see Dr. Ditz, and I will no longer have insurance that covers infertility. I can't even be seen off base, due to Tricare stipulations. The earliest transfer for a donor is late September, by which we will be gone. (August would have required payment by July 1). It seems like we are at an impasse.

I feel like we got to play house for a week. That's how long we got from the time I told Mr. Blondie to right before things went south. Like it was pretend. I get that same feeling when we go to Disney World for the weekend. It's as if as soon as you see that castle, the outside world isn't real anymore. Anything is possible. Then the weekend ends, and you go back to your average job, the boss you hate, and all of your bills. We got to live in a world for a week where I magically got pregnant. Then our vacation came to an end and our lives went back to the usual 'Bad News Bears'. Many argue that "It was the size of a sesame seed! It didn't even resemble a baby!" Which you are right, I agree. It's not as if we lost our baby at 18 weeks or lost a 4 year old child, and I can't imagine that grief. But our little squish was like winning the lottery(a true miracle of science and luck), only to find out that we were one number off.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

The Whole Shebang

Before you read this, don’t cheat! Go read the first part of this set of posts. Go. Now. If you are joining me from the first post, welcome back!

As you now know, I am 5 weeks pregnant, well, 5 and a half. I couldn't spoil the surprise RIGHT off the bat. That's no fun. I obviously went to the Donor Appointment and had my betas done beforehand. Don't be mad that all of the donor information is now irrelevant. Ms. Sunshine actually requested to be the one who called me that afternoon to give me my results. She also knew that I was pregnant before we had the meeting, so our discussion wasn't super in depth. I wanted to have the information though, in case this little one, well, doesn't hold on. During our Donor meeting, she told me it was quite common to get pregnant right after a failed IVF cycle, and they are usually successful. Still, I didn't really have an idea of when it all happened. I hadn't exactly been keeping track of Shark Week during my despair of the failed IVF aftermath.

A HCG level of 5 or above is considered 'pregnant'. At the time of that first draw, my HCG levels were at 300. That was on 6/23. On 6/27, I had a redraw at a diagnostic place where Mr. Blondie and I live. Waiting for those results was hell. In between the two blood draws, I had cramps, but never bleeding. No symptoms. None. Then after the second blood draw (where they took 6 vials of blood), nothing. Zip. Nada. Not even cramps anymore. I expected something. Anything to reaffirm that there was a little bean in there. Mr. Blondie refers to it as "Little Squish", like Squishy from Finding Nemo.

Most women on the TTC sites had a list of symptoms a mile long. Now I think they're mostly full of horse crap. During this time waiting period, I dug deep into facebook messages exchanged between Mr. Blondie and I from before I moved. Eventually I found one complaining about starting my period. Huzzah! I had an accurate date that could put things into better persepctive. After using my Handy Dandy Dr. Google, I discovered my due date is February 24th, 2017. I'll be 6 weeks just before the 4th!

It was Wednesday when I got the "requant" results. Apparently, the lady at the Diagnostics place had fulfilled the order from my labs for IVF, NOT my HCG requant. Now it made sense why I had 6 vials of blood taken. After many phone calls between Dr. Ditz's office, Diagnostics, and myself, they got the results. During those IVF labs, they take an HCG count, so I was saved! My numbers were up! 2400 to be exact. (We expected it to be around 1300).

One of the only good things about having known fertility issues is that when you do get pregnant, you get a 6 week ultrasound, which is super early. Usually the first is done between weeks 8-12, and is called a "dating ultrasound". My early ultrasound is only to make sure there is a fetal pole and a heartbeat. Still, I'm super stoked for it, even if it means having to drive 7 hours back to my RE again. Mr. Blondie won't be able to go, which is a huge bummer. It's scheduled for July 8th, just over a week away.

Keeping this a secret from Mr. Blondie was probably on par with being a secret agent. I am terrible at keeping secrets from him, and thus, surprises are usually spoiled. I got that first positive test on Wednesday around 1230. I kept it a secret until Thursday at 5PM. That's a long time for me, okay? I have a Cricut (best craft machine ever) and made a card in the 30 minutes I had in between getting home and leaving to go pick him up. I gave it to him, and he instantly screamed and I'm pretty sure he almost passed out because he had to grab onto my car door to keep from falling over.

I debated posting all of this for a while, as most people don't announce until after the safety zone of 12 weeks. It's still super early, and any number of things could go wrong. Plus, I liked having my own little secret love affair! However, we want to share all of this love, because I'm pretty sure this is the most loved baby on the face of the Earth. (I might be biased though.)

No it's not twins, even though Mr. Blondie insists.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Drumrollplease

I know, I know, get on with the update. It seems like forever, even though it was only last week a week and a half ago. This update is in 2 parts, one written on 6/24 and the other on 6/29. They will be separate posts, but posted at the same time. I'm going to be jumping all over the place in this, so pay close attention.

To recap, this most recent appointment, on 6/23, was for me to meet with the Donor Nurse (Ms. Sunshine, as I will refer to her) to discuss Embryo Adoption/Donation. Due to my move at the end of May, I had to drive 7 hours back to my RE on Wednesday for my appointment Thursday morning, after which, I immediately drove the 7 hours BACK home. I also drive a manual car with no cruise control, so it's a blast on long car rides -eyeroll-. The office originally screwed up with scheduling, as Ms. Sunshine was going to be in Egg Retrievals when I was scheduled. They called me 2 days before my appointment to tell me this. I demanded to be seen, as I would be driving from out of state and requested off of work. They worked me in, obviously. Ms. Sunshine was incredibly pleasant throughout the meeting, and could recite the potential donors from memory, it seemed. I was given a few options, because my insurance is so great!

1. Donor Embryo - She didn't have too many "in stock", so to speak, but had a stack to go through that were still processing. She handed me two forms that had generic medical information about 2 couples she thought might interest me. One might have fit the bill, the other was nowhere close. Mr. Blondie and I are fair skinned and blue eyed. Both couples had green and brown eyes. One couple was fair skinned, the other was olive toned. Both couples were overweight, which sounds harsh, but if we're shelling out thousands of dollars again, I would like the kid to resemble us as much as possible.

2. Donor Egg & Donor Sperm - Basically, it's like Build A Bear, but with an embryo. We would choose from the egg donors in Dr. Ditz's system, and order sperm from a sperm bank. Then the eggs would be fertilized in a dish (like in vitro), and 2 would be transferred to increase odds of one taking. This interests me a lot. It's the best of both worlds. You get your pick of the litter. It's like designing a video game character! (Too nerdy? Okay.) With this option we could have the donor come in and do a fresh cycle (how my eggs would have been if IVF had been successful) or do frozen. We could also split the eggs with another couple, or give them to Dr. Ditz's "supply closet", and split the cost in half.

I was able to see pictures of the Egg Donors, none of which really "fit the bill". There was one who was a teacher and had given birth to natural twins, but she looked like a blonde bimbo. You know, the type that has black roots and platinum blonde hair? That's the picture she sent in as a representation of herself. No thanks. Another was more intelligent, but hadn't donated eggs before or been pregnant. There was no guarantee she could produce enough eggs for a cycle. As it turns out, Mr. Blondie and I are a rare breed. Aren't too many fair skinned, blondie hair, blue eyed couples apparently.

Total likeness. Before being shipped off to military training, Mr. Blondie even had the swooshy hair.(Not really, we're both hot messes, but I digress)

3. Waiting - Ms. Sunshine informed me that there was a woman who would be going through in vitro using donor egg and donor sperm. Both donors were blonde hair, blue eyed. A guaranteed likeness! Ken and Barbie babies! The problem was that the woman was about to go through in vitro and there was no guarantee if/when she would donate the leftover embryos. It could be 2 months, could be when she gives birth, pending a successful cycle. This would be my number one pick, if I could.

Waiting, as it turns out, will not be an option, as we are going OVERSEAS on our first military assignment! Meaning, I have until we move in roughly 2 months to get this show on the road, and have its final performance. Starbucks doesn't transfer outside of the US/Canada, so my insurance ends whenever I quit. I found this out the day after the appointment. I ended up notifying Ms. Sunshine that waiting that long for those embryos wouldn't be an option. Now, I'm going to go on a tangent for a second. This is important, so don't skip it.

Now you guys can throw all of that info out of the window for a second. We'll come back to it in Part 2 of this update.

If you are trying to conceive, or TTC, you pee on all the sticks. All the time. If you get really crazy, you can even use ovulation sticks as pregnancy sticks. It's a fun, demented game. Because you know your period will come. So if it's negative, you're like "Ha! I'm right!", and if it's positive, well, you go out and buy more sticks to pee on. I can't make this shit up, go on any TTC board and you'll see what's called "Tweaker" threads. On which, women will alter a photo of a pregnancy test to see if it's possible the test is positive but not quite showing up. They also have POAS (pee on a stick) threads where women compare their pregnancy tests. It's a hell of a time. People also put pee in bottles so that they can test it later when they go buy a test. (Guilty!) I hadn't peed on a stick, really, since my surgery back in September. The following cycle in October, I thought maybe Dr. Ditz had been wrong. I tested, but of course that was a big fat nope. Quickly got discouraged, then Mr. Blondie was gone, so there was no use.

After surgery, my period was late, early, and sometimes on time. Really, Aunt Flow showed up whenever she felt like it. What I'm about to tell you is exactly how it all went down.

The Wednesday I was supposed to leave for my appointment, I worked all morning, until about 1200PM. This would give me time to run home, shower, and throw some clothes in a bag without getting back to my hometown at midnight. But my period was late, and those damn dollar store cheapies were calling my name before my shower. I always have some on hand, because, crazy.

Now for those of you who don't know, you shouldn't take a pregnancy test unless you've been holding your bladder for at least 4 hours. I had peed right before I left work, so within an hour's time at the most. Definitely not close to 4 hours. I told myself "It'll be negative no matter what, so who cares?" You just feel this compulsion to pee on a stick, I swear.There's a reason it's called a "Tweaker" board. (As in drugs, guys)

Now, get ready for it.

That fucker was positve. And not like "ehhh maybe possibly". I'm talking there was a blaring line. 2 to be exact. I hadn't ever used this brand, so the All-Knowing Dr. Google told me it could sometimes have false positives. That's all it was. Just a defective test. Luckily, because I learned long ago to 1. always pee in a cup and 2. always buy multiple tests when peeing on sticks, I had a second one handy and retested. Yup. Instantly the same two lines. Guys, I was about to walk out the door to drive 7 hours to a DONOR APPOINTMENT. How was this even possible?! These were dollar store cheapies. So you know what I did? Desperate times call for desperate measures. I skipped the shower, threw things in a bag, bottled the remainder of the liquid up, and drove to the drug store and bought an Ole Faithful (First Response, Early Response). If you get a negative on that, you're not pregnant. Well, that instantly showed lines. LINES. MULTIPLE.

At this point, I'm sitting in my car debating whether or not to drive the 7 hours. It had to be wrong. All three of them had to be false. I mean, this could be leftover meds from my IVF cycle right? A phone call to Dr. Ditz's office confirmed that to be incorrect. They cycle out within a couple weeks. The poor nurse on the phone was so confused for a second because I had to have sounded like a hormonal crazy lady. Eventually, she told me to go to the office for blood betas before my donor appointment. I would have my hcg count a couple hours after my meeting with Ms. Sunshine.

And that's how I found out I was 5 weeks pregnant.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Backwater Hillbillies

Well, it's been a while!

I moved. That's my excuse. I now live in the land of ghetto country-folk. The best picture I can paint for you guys is that the people drive big, lifted trucks that have numerous bullet holes in them, while being held together with ductape and prayers. I didn't think that was a thing, but clearly, I was misinformed. At least this is only for a few months. My apartment has what Mr. Blondie and I have nicknamed "The Burning Bush". It is on the way to my car, so I pass it a few times a day. Sometimes it smells like weed. Sometimes it does not. I'm fairly completely certain it is a drop off location. I also have a very nice neighbor who was not surprised to wake up one morning and his car had been stolen. I was freaked out for him and he was like "Eh, it happens."

Our current location isn't all bad though. We tried a little Korean restaurant that was out of this world. By contrast, we also tried an Indian place that was the worst we've ever had. We went and had beignets at the cutest cafe. The nearby base is HUGE. The best thing is, of course, that I get to see Mr. Blondie everyday. We get evenings together during the week, then I have to drop him off as if we are in high school. Weekends are the best, because we go exploring and he gets to have a sleepover. You forget how wonderful getting to have sex sleeping next to each other is after 6 months of being apart.

I am not currently working, as my transfer for work got messed up. I would not be upset (Not working is awesome, I get to play housewife), except I need to maintain hours in order to keep insurance. Which brings me to the latest development in regards to a Baby Blondie.

Mr. Blondie and I have decided not to do another round of IVF with my eggs. Shocking, I know! It took us a while to get to that decision, along with tons of research. It wouldn't be financially smart to risk another few grand on something with such a small chance of working. It would set us back even further from the goal, and it is just easier to go other routes. It wouldn't be fair for us to put off other things we want. Don't get me wrong, Baby Blondie is at the top of our list, but after sacrificing so much for so long, we need a break. All is not lost, though! We have another plan. This is probably going to freak people out, but I am so excited to share! I haven't had internet since I got here, so I've been keeping it in. Two words: Embryo Adoption. It is exactly like Egg Donation, except it's an already fertilized embryo. When we originally filled out our paperwork, it asked if we would want to donate our leftover embryos, should we have any. We said yes, of course. I didn't even put two and two together that other couples did the same thing. (I obviously didn't think we'd need to worry about that either.) A donated embryo. It would be related to neither Mr. Blondie nor myself, except I would carry it. I have to meet with a nurse, whom I have already spoken to over the phone. We'll go over what Mr. Blondie and I would want in a donor couple- height, weight, medical history, eye color, hair color. We also find out how many cycles IVF cycles it took for that couple to get pregnant, which helps figure out the likelihood I would get pregnant. It is anonymous. We would never be able to trace that couple's names. Much like a closed adoption.

We came to this decision because we would love to have the experience of me being pregnant, even if that child is not ours. I can rationalize an embryo because it is completely separate from the two of us. It is not halfway, like a donated egg would be. We have no timeline as of yet. I have already called insurance, and they cover it, just as they would IVF. Embryo Adoption/Donation is cheaper than an IVF cycle. I'm estimating less than $2k for the whole thing. If the donor parents left multiple embryos, then there is also the chance to provide related siblings down the road. How cool is that?!

We are also still waiting for our orders. Once we find out our base, I am starting the Foster to Adopt paperwork as well. I'll provide more information on that in the next update. In the meantime, we are changing our diet (mostly me) and I'm also starting supplements, even though Dr. Ditz called it witchcraft, just to see if there's some kind of supernatural force at hand. I don't do dairy, but usually make exceptions when I cook. I don't get incredibly sick from dairy, but it gives me a phlegmy feeling, and just makes me feel gross in general. When I stopped drinking milk, at least a year ago, my boobs shrunk and I lost a bit of weight elsewhere. Not kidding. Since I'm not working, I started making vegan cheeses, and cooking with almond/coconut milk. I made probably the best fettucine I've ever had that other night, and it was all from CAULIFLOWER. Even Mr. Blondie likes it! We've cut out red meat and pork. I'm wanting to cut out all meat, but Mr. Blondie finds that difficult. So we're still eating chicken and salmon as of now. It's not that I'm against meat (I believe evolution has proven us to be meat eaters), but many of the hormones have been found to be disasterous for fertility. Plus, meat texture has always weirded me out, anyway. Tonight is my first vegan meal, wish me luck!

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

No Soup For You

And by soup, I mean babies. No Babies for You. Pretty much my anthem at this point, let’s be honest.

I haven't updated for a week or so, as I was waiting for my Follow-Up appointment with my RE. I was mentally prepared for the appointment, because I thought Dr. Ditz would simply reiterate what we already suspected; That because of my low egg count and endometriosis, my quality suffered and that I should probably definitely use donor eggs. I was ready-with questions in hand! Well boys and girls, if you didn't think there could be more bad news, you were wrong!

As per usual, I waited over an hour past my appointment time. No biggie. Vitals were taken, then I was escorted to Dr. Ditz's office. Immediately, it's the "I'm so sorry this didn't work out" line.

Maybe it's because I'm slightly super bitter about this whole thing, but I am starting to hate that phrase. It means nothing to me. Oh, you're sorry? That's great! I'm sorry too. Let's all sit around and be sorry about this together. We'll have tea and cookies while my uterus rots away.

I understand that he said it out of sympathy and professionalism. However, I feel as though "I'm sorry" implies that the speaker can relate to what the sufferer is going through. Which he can't. My mother can't. My co workers can't. Mr. Blondie can't even relate to a certain extent. They don't live it. My husband gets the aftermath. He wants kids just as much as I do, and I don't doubt it. The thing is though, he isn't the one "at fault" so to speak. He doesn't wake up knowing that he is the reason we don't have kids yet. I wake up and it's just kind of like:

Dr. Ditz asked how I was emotionally. Later on in the conversation, I found out that it was to gauge how well I would deal with starting another cycle. I haven't cried since I found out, and I thought I was at peace with the cycle. I am at peace with it. I'm not at peace with the idea of not having a child. We then discussed options. Drumroll, please!

He recommended donor eggs! OMG NO WAY! I totally did not see that coming. I asked about doing another with my eggs, and he said of course that's an option. They would put me on MAX doses of the stims, 450iu. Keep in mind, I was originally supposed to take 125iu at the beginning of all of this. This would maybe produce 10-12 eggs. Most of which would be shit quality. I would maybe get 5-6 decent eggs. Some of those will maybe make it through being fertilized and split correctly this time. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Catch a theme? He didn't say 'maybe' quite as much (or at all, actually), but on average, an IVF cycle has a 20% success rate when using your own eggs. His words not mine. With mine, there isn't a way of knowing if they'll do better a second go 'round. I responded better than expected to the meds, but the fact that the eggs didn't perform better is what worries Dr. Ditz and myself. It's impossible to say whether next round will work or not. Especially because the longer we wait, it'll be exponentially worse. Another regular cycle would be roughly about the same cost as this one, because I save money on the meds. I can use my leftovers. Cool.

So I'm on the fence about using my eggs thus far into the conversation. I am a huge math nerd, and could do algebra all day. Those numbers don't sound great. I like the guy, but I don't wanna keep throwing money at him. So we go back to donor eggs. He tells me over the past year or so, his clinic has had an 80% success rate with donor eggs fresh and frozen. If I do a frozen donor egg cycle it is super cheap. Like $5k-$6k (not sure how insurance works with it). Fresh is $14k. Yes, you read that correctly. I even mentioned that a couple of my friends have volunteered to donate eggs. He said that would be even more expensive because of the legalities of it. So much for being a good semaritan. Also, a single egg is not $3k, you get allotted about 8 for the prices listed above. You pick how many to transfer, and the rest are set aside for you to do another cycle if that one doesn't work out. Sounds great in theory. I was almost sold on it. But guys, here's where I am the most wrong I have ever been in my life.

I was under the impression that donor eggs did NOT contain the donor's DNA. In biology, I remember it being discussed that just the shell was used. Well, fuck me, because that's not the case. If I used donor eggs, which is the best chance I have at conceiving, the child will not biologically be mine. It would be my husband's and some one else's. And the thought of that makes me sick down to my core. Not in disgust, but in such despair. Dr. Ditz explained that studies show that even if it is genetically not mine, I still influence personality, intelligence and some physical characteristics, because of how the baby develops in the womb. Not good enough for me. I just imagine when people look at their baby and say "Oh he has your nose!" or "She has your eyes!". If I looked down at my baby, that I carried, I would see my husband in him or her, but I'd also see a complete stranger. It wouldn't be my baby. Nothing of mine. I can't do it. (That's not to say I'm against adoption. I actually really want to Foster to Adopt.)

That realization hit my like a ton of bricks. I didn't get upset in the office. I was still processing things as Dr. Ditz continued to speak. He is all for me trying with my own eggs, and will help in whatever way he can. He reiterated that donor eggs are the better option, though. My best chance at having a child is something that I'm no longer willing to even consider. Which sucks, because if I was willing, it'd buy us a lot of time. We're definitely racing against the clock.

I made it to my car, and well, shit hit the fan. I'm talking full blown, cry until you puke, ugly cry.

My mom happened to text me, and I told her I wanted to crawl into a hole. She said those fateful words, "I'm so sorry". Ugh. This news wasn't what I expected to hear. This wasn't what I had prepared myself for! More alarms went off in my head, and my ever-present anxiety surrounding never having children skyrocketed. Mr. Blondie texted me while I was still sitting in the parking lot, trying to prepare myself for the drive home. He asked how it went. I replied "bad." Just bad. His reply? "I'm sorry". Once again, those stupid, stupid words. I swear it's going to be on my headstone at this point. He didn't know, but that didn't stop me from wanting to punch him through the phone. Why does everyone have to be sorry? Is there really nothing better to say?

I cried the whole way home, despite trying to calm myself and having to drive. I had finally decided that Mr. Blondie and I would take a trip and sacrifice IVF until after the New Year, since I would have to use donated eggs and time wouldn't matter. I was fine with waiting. (Mr. Blondie had left this decision up to me, so don't think I'm stepping on his toes!) Now, I can't afford to wait, and that sucks.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Aftermath

I think I've rewritten this update at least half a dozen times. Everything comes out so jumbled! There's so much I want to explain and so many questions I want to answer that it really just becomes a confuddled mess.

Yes, we want to do another cycle. I'd do it again tomorrow, if it were possible. Unfortunately, we don't live in a world where unicorns shit rainbows, so we're having to recalculate our next move. We spent roughly $3k out of pocket just for this cycle, after all was said and done - procedure costs, meds, and anesthesia. None of that money gets transferred over to a new cycle even though this one "failed". Mr. Blondie and I are good with money. This didn't drain our savings. If we wanted, we could do another cycle, if the cost was roughly the same. If it was more, neither of us feel that it is a wise financial decision at this point.

Upon starting another cycle, I can’t imagine that Dr. Ditz will allow me to use my own eggs, seeing as all three that were mature fizzled out at the exact same progression point. This leads me to believe that something is wrong with my eggs. Endometriosis is a bitch. It fucks up your ovaries, and causes them to 1) Kill off eggs and 2) produce crappy ones. There are hundreds (thousands, maybe) of women that find out after the fact that endo has completely destroyed what eggs they do have. No test/bloodwork can determine quality ahead of time. Dr. Ditz and I thought that quality would be fine because I'm young. My endo proved otherwise. A single donated egg is $3k, and I would venture to say any RE would want to do 2 eggs for the sake of having bases covered. Until we raise money for that cost, IVF can't happen.

In addition to that new shiny egg cost, my insurance has a lifetime maximum of $15k for infertility benefits. I would venture to say with this cycle alone I am at $10k. At least. Could be more. They don't cover donated egg costs, and because I am close to my maximum, more would have to come out of our pocket. Instead of $3k, we could be seeing $5k along with the $3k for an egg.

If we could find a nice person to donate eggs, that'd be awesome! We could do another cycle much sooner, because that cost is pretty daunting. (No, this isn't a proposition! I mean...) Unfortunately, that's hard to come by. A couple of our friends have mentioned it in passing. (I doubt they would follow through, no offense.) One question I've been asked is "How does that even work?" An egg donor goes through the same injections I did, less doses because they aren't broken, and also through the retrieval. That's where it ends. All DNA from the donor is removed, and essesntially, only the shell of the egg is used. The mother's DNA is inserted and then the sperm is injected, like normal fertilization.

Another issue, my darlings, is the emotional and physical toll of all of this. It's a lot of ups, and downs, and stress stress stress! Infertility, in general, is hard on an individual and a relationship. It's led to many arguments between Mr. Blondie and I. Whether it's me feeling like he isn't being supportive (he totally is, I promise!) or me being depressed and spiraling downward. It's frustrating to want something, and not being to achieve it no matter what. It's hard to be positive, but being negative all the time is exhausting too. There isn't really a happy medium. Will this work? What if we get bad news? How do we pay for this test, or that test? Do we save for this, or something else? You end up sacrificing a lot.

That's a big issue for Mr. Blondie and I right now. We have saved for this IVF cycle for a solid year, we skipped out on a lot. Granted, we took a trip in November 2015 for our honeymoon, but that was preplanned AND paid for back in February of 2015 after saving for a year. It wasn't even supposed to be our honeymoon, just a trip we really wanted to take for our dating anniversary. We really want to take a trip for either our wedding anniversary, or Christmas. This year has been so stressful - between Mr. Blondie shipping out, being separated due to military, working 2 jobs, and so much bad news in regards to babymaking - we feel we deserve something to unwind. If we take a much needed trip, then no IVF until next year, at the earliest. We shouldn't have to choose. Other people don't. Other people don't have to shell out thousands of dollars just to procreate. I could understand if we had to choose between paying bills or a trip (I mean, let's be adults about this!) Taking a trip and putting IVF on hold also almost guarantees we will be using donor eggs, as my egg count will be all but gone.

After this cycle, I've had a lot of support! Thanks! It really is great to know so many people are invested! I've also heard it all. Yes, we "have all the time in the world" to do another cycle, and "science advances all the time!" No, we don't want to wait and "give it time." Science won't find a way to undamage my eggs or cure my endo by next month, or even next year. And yes, we could "miraculously get pregnant" like your cousin's mother's aunt twice removed did after trying to 5 years! Except, my tubes are pretty much filled to the brim with endo tissue, which leads to polyps over time. I've been told this by 2 different doctors. My tubes are also pinched, and they aren't getting unpinched any time soon. I know how to get pregnant. Trust me, if it was going to happen, it would have happened. There are tests that track when you ovulate. I've read books, articles, chat threads. I've done the "every other day thing", the "every day thing", the "SMEP" (sperm meets egg plan). I've tracked my basal body temperature for a year solid. I've demanded to Mr. Blondie that we HAVE to have sex because "this could be the month!"(Poor thing!) I've taken supplements and vitamins, and even ingested food grade hydrogen peroxide (which burns your skin on contact and if not diluted correctly makes you extremely sick) in a last ditch effort to dissolve scar tissue. I can promise you, darlings, that science says I am not getting pregnant without some scientist in a lab making a baby in a petri dish.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

I would have updated yesterday, the day after my egg retrieval, but I got sidetracked took a nap.

We'll get some of the important information out of the way. They retrieved 5 eggs. 5. That's it. Out of my 9 or 10 follicles. One or two of those weren't mature enough to have an egg, so that brings it to 8 or 9. I guess those are good odds. (Not really). With my age I should have had *way* more follicles to begin with, and more of said follicles should have had eggs in them. This all goes back to my low AMH/egg count. Today, Wednesday, I also found out my fertilization report (How many made it through being fertilized. Think petri dish/test tube baby.) We'll get to that.

Now, my darling Mr. Blondie is obviously not here. Curse you, military lifestyle! (Can I say that? Will I get in trouble?) Whatever. I'm saying it. It sucks to not have his support through all of this. I mean, I do, but it's from afar. He can't be here for the appointments and the information he gets is after the fact. So, not having anyone else, my mom took me to my retrieval. Upon walking in, all the other women had their husbands there. Wouldn't have been a big deal, if they didn't have a fucking staring problem. Didn't their mommas ever teach them that staring is rude? ( I know my mom did!) It's not like my mom was my girlfriend. My mom is a beautiful woman, but soooo not my type. Sorry, mom.

My mother drops me off, finds out when she needs to be back, and leaves to go get breakfast. I don't blame her. Well, I kind of do. I couldn't eat or drink anything after midnight the night before, and she didn't want to entice me by eating Chick Fil A in front of me. But guys, she left me and I had to get an IV. I'm completely fine with getting my blood drawn now. Easy-Peasy. IVs? HA! It was a riot. I get into a hospital gown and wait on a stretcher bed. The first nurse to try and catch a vein was somewhat nice. She tried twice. Once in my wrist, because I informed her my right forearm had had blood drawn from it 3 times in the last week and a half and was probably tapped out. That didn't work, because my vein kept rolling. Okay, fine. So she tries my right forearm, which I just told her wasn't a good idea. Guess what? She fucking busts the vein. (No shit, Sherlock) She tells me she "taps out at 2, and the anesthesiologist will have to try." Cue Nurse Wonderful. God, I hate her. I hate her more now than I did when I proved her wrong about the lab requirement.

The innocent nurse mentions to her that she couldn't get the IV in. Nurse Wonderful comes over and I immediately know that she has the "watch this, I'm totally going to get it on the first try" look on her "resting bitch" face. I'll give her that. I truly think she does have Chronic Bitch Face (CBF), and that her attitude just matches. Well, she almost had it. Except she went a little too far and got blood. She goes "I think I got it, but there was a little blood which shouldn't happen if I got it." I'm screaming in pain at this point. "Oh, I guess I didn't get it. It shouldn't hurt." She proceeds to remove it and says (once again) that we'll wait for the anesthesiologist. Great. Let him do his job.

Then a third nurse walks in. They ask her if she'd like to try. Like, are you kidding me? Hello, I'm not a human pin cushion! The next person that's trying is going to be the actual anesthesiologist! Not another nurse. She declines, thank god. The woman before me finishes her retrieval, so they wheel her out and the anesthesiologist comes over to me. Looks at my right hand, and I inform him, as I have with the nurses as well, that when I had my laparoscopy back in September, the nurse could only get a vein with a 24 gauge needle instead of the standard 22. He ignores me. Then shoves the IV needle/catheter into a vein in my hand. Looking back, I am actually really upset. In the short time I had to talk to him, I told him my last experience with IVs and how I felt ignored about my anxiety with it. He didn't take this into account and I now have a bruise on my hand that wouldn't be as severe if he had listened to me. Whatever.

After retrieval, I felt fine. I woke up fairly quickly, my mom came back to the waiting/stretcher area. They went over meds with her, which I already knew. The woman 2 appointments ahead of me only had 3 eggs. The ones that made it, they were freezing and doing gender selection. Freezing can sometimes cause quality to decrease. They informed me I had five, so I felt slightly better. 5 wasn't great, but I would take it over zero any day.

My mom took me to her house and I slept all afternoon. It was glorious. I didn't really have any pain or bleeding like they said I would. Yay! The next day I returned to work. I had more cramping/pain, even after taking Tylenol (The only pain killer I was allowed), but made it through and went home to take a much needed nap.

Fast forward to today, Wednesday. I knew that I'd be getting my Fertilization Report phone call at some point. This would tell me how many of the five eggs made it through ICSI. ICSI stands for intracytoplasmic sperm injection. They take one sperm, and inject it into a single egg. Some offices blast a single egg with millions of sperm, others do ICSI (which usually is more successful). This is how the eggs are fertilized. Well, the morning came and passed. Then the afternoon started ticking away. An hour before my RE's (Reproductive Endocrinologist) office closed, I called. They transferred me to a nurse, who said she would find out why they hadn't called yet. She knew that other nurses had been calling patients throughout the day. That was my first tip-off. She called back within three minutes to tell me that Dr. Ditz still had my report and he would be calling me before the day's end. Second tip-off. Why would he still have my report? Why wouldn't a nurse have it by now? And that's when I knew. I didn't know that I knew, but I did.

Dr. Ditz called about thirty minutes after the office closed. I immediately knew it was bad news. I was at my mom's house, dropping off boxes for my move. (I am moving to Mr. Blondie's school at the end of the month.) Why else would he be the one calling? Especially after hours? Dr. Ditz: Mrs. Blondie? Me: Yes? Dr. Ditz: I'm afraid I am the bearer of bad news. Me: (Being the cry baby I am, I'm already tearing up) Yup? Dr. Ditz: Two of the eggs weren't mature, so as you know, they couldn't be fertilized. Me: Yes, I'm aware what that means. At this point I was like, okay, maybe he is just telling me not all of them made it. Dr. Ditz: The other 3 didn't make it past the first stage of fertilization. They didn't split. So none of the five eggs made it. I'm so sorry. Me: Oh. Ok. Dr. Ditz: Again, I'm so sorry. Just call in the morning and we can schedule a reconsultation. We can discuss if you want to try IVF again, or go a different route. Me: Ok. Thank you for calling

I was already crying during the phone conversation. I tried to hold it together. Didn't work. After I hung up, it was an ugly Kim Kardashian cry. I don't wish this feeling upon my worst enemy. Okay, maybe Nurse Wonderful. My poor mother, though. She tried. "I'm so sorry." "At least you tried?" "Now at least you know." She doesn't know we've been trying for 2 and a half years, so I can't blame her for not knowing the complete and utter despair I was going through in that moment.

I was told to discontinue all medications, and save them for another cycle. So why not drink? At this point in my update, I am at least a half a bottle of vodka in. In case you're wondering, Pineapple by Three Olives mixes wonderfully with a Strawberry Acai Refresher from Starbucks.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

wellwellwell

I have been slacking on updating this week, but Good God, injecting pregnancy hormone just makes you so damn tired. Then there's the whole stabbing yourself with a needle thing. Let's recap on this last week, shall we?

May 2nd- This was my first ultrasound since starting the meds/stims. I was doing 300IU of follistim, and 20IU of HCG. I was forced to give blood, and had another super-awesome-fun-time ultrasound with Dr. Lady. Normally, Dr. Lady is super helpful and sweet. We love Dr. Lady, guys. But I thought I was going to punch her in her stupid, nerdy, cat loving face. Here's why. At this first ultrasound, they are looking to see the size of the follicles (things that contain eggs) as well as how many there are. This gives them an idea of how to adjust meds. If the follicles aren't big or there aren't that many, they up it. If there are a ton or they are big, they decrease to slow you down. I counted follicles while they measured them, and I was fairly certain I had 7. 4 on my right, 3 on the left. I've researched the shit out of follicle numbers. I knew this was on the low end. I didn't have high expectations with my low egg count, but this sucked. Most people get between 20-30 by the end of stims, but start out with 10-15 at the first ultrasound. I had 7. That's it. So I did what any nosy curious person would do - "How do my chances of actually getting pregnant look with this kind of number?" She gives me a blank stare, puts on that special doctor smile I'm sure all doctors are required to perfect before graduation, and says "Well, I mean, you look great on paper. You'll have to give Dr. Ditz that question." EXCUSE ME? You mean to tell me you have NO idea? Not even a ballpark? Aren't you supposed to specialize in this area? I highly doubt that shit.

I nodded, and left on my merry way. Even though my anxiety was through the roof and seemingly no one understood why I was so distraught. Seriously, the whole "Just be positive!" line gets so old. Being positive does not influence science. They called me later that afternoon after Dr. Ditz had a chance to look at my numbers and bloodwork. My dosage for the Follistim (follicle making drug) was to be lowered from 300 to 225. I would also need to start the Cetrotide in 2 days, to stop the eggs from dropping/releasing. I had been doing injections for 5 nights now. I was only slightly visibly bruised from the needles. Not as bad as I thought. I didn't even really flinch when I did them at this point.

May 4th- Cetrotide sucks. And by that, I mean it makes me want to kick more hypothetical puppies. Found that out real quick. You have to mix the syringe of liquid with a vial of powder and then inject it with a needle that is considerably longer/bigger than the other 2. I was up to 3 injections at night. It burns and stings, and then it leaves you with a welt. Doing the 3 injections also made me bruise like crazy.

May 5th- Another appointment for an ultrasound with Dr. Lady. Another blood draw. This is now the 3rd time in the same week of having my blood drawn IN THE SAME GODDMAN PLACE ON MY ARM. My vein is swollen, and looks like I have a slight heroin addiction. Or meth. Can you inject meth? I wanted to scream when the very nice lady (no sarcasm) put the needle in. Then you know what happened? My vein fucking rolled and she had to maneuver the needle to catch it again. Underneath the bruise. She asked if she should just take the needle out, and I told her we've made it this far, so fuck it. The poor lady felt bad. I don't hate her. She was nice.

Anyway, ultrasound with Dr. Lady revealed I had 10 follicles (meh), and that I would probably be due back for an ultrasound at the other office in 2 days. (It would fall on a Saturday and only their other office is open). They would let me know about dosages and when I would need to be back for sure in a phone call later. I ended up keeping my same dosage, and was told to report bright and early Saturday morning for my last ultrasound before retrieval. I would get to find out when my retrieval would be at my appointment. Awesome! By now, I am so bruised it's seriously visible all across my lower abdomen. When I did injections that night, I had to use up 2 vials of Follistim that were somewhat low. I ended up using both and still didn't have my full dosage, so I had to open a new one. Did you count that? 3 injections for one medicine, follwed by my HCG and then The Killer (Cetrotide).

May 7th- Today! That's today! I got to see Dr. Ditz and guys, GUESS WHAT? My retrieval is in 2 days. (Holy shit, that's crazy to say) Then my transfer is either 3 days or 5 days from that. So a week from today. 2 weeks from today I will know if I'm pregnant. Say whhhaaaa! But before that, I had to get blood drawn again, and bless the nurse that did it because I told her to please try and get it from my other arm. I warned her that I would probably end up involuntarily punch her if she tried from the same arm (This marks the 4th time since the 26th of March that I've had blood taken). No one has EVER been able to get a vein from my left, but she did on the first time and I was actually excited for that. God, that's sad. What have I become?

I had 9 follicles that Dr. Ditz could find. I asked him what he thought about statistics and such, and once again he only reiterated that it's "quality not quantity". See the thing is, I might have 9 follicles, but not all of the follicles will have an actual egg. I could end up with 4 eggs and that's it. As long as they're good eggs, I guess we're okay. At the beginning of all of this, he said he would be transferring two eggs/embryos. Today Dr. Ditz mentioned he would do only one. I protested, and he said as long as I made an informed decision, he would honor it. Dr. Google is helping me this evening. I would rather end up with twins and risk certain things than transfer one and have it not take.

So what is retrieval exactly? I will undergo anesthesia and then Dr. Ditz will use an ultrasound wand to see the follicles, while using a needle to go through cervix/uterus and draw out the eggs. Like this:

Afterwards, I am told how many they retrieved. A couple days later I find out how many made it through being fertilized. I am also told when we will be transferring! Transfer occurs either 3 days or 5 days after retrieval. 5 Day Transfer is preferred, because the embryos are slightly more developed, and therefore, more likely to implant. Questions, concerns?

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

Shootup, Drink

Lord, I need some wine (read: all the alcohol)

Let's play a game. Today was Day 4 of meds/stims. Every time I say "This sucks", curse, or complain, y'all have to pinky promise you're taking a shot. Actually, you should probably just sip on something throughout reading this. Got it? Cool.

Injecting pure HCG into your body is basically hell in a tiny insulin needle.(Yup, down that tequila. Starting off strong!). It makes you stabby, happy, and hysterical all within the same minute. Remember when I said the shots were pieces of cake? I was obviously high on adrenaline. It's like the doctor who came up with this could have made pills, but wanted to get revenge on a cheating ex wife. You can't get pregnant? Here's a solution, but let's make it as painful as possible! Mwuahaha. No one tells you that the longer you do them the more sore your stomach gets. It's like...you are forced to kick a puppy for a bajillion dollars. You don't want to kick the puppy, but you reeeaalllllyyy need that bajillion dollars. Drink for the poor, hypothetical puppy.

While inserting the needles didn't hurt the first couple of days, there is a limited amount of space in the area in which you can inject the meds into your stomach. Which means, that small area is going to get bruised fairly quickly, but you have no choice. You begin to negotiate with yourself "Ok. Just do this today and then you have 24 hours before you have to do it again. Then go cuddle with the puppy you just hypothetically kicked" Ugh. (That counts as a shot.)

It hurts to twist, bend over, crouch down, pick things up, put things down. You know what? Just don't move. Especially right after injecting the meds. Mostly the follistim pen. Feel like you tore something? That's the follistim making your ovaries work overtime against their will. They should enforce child labor laws for your organs. (Get it? Because ovaries...eggs...children...please laugh at my jokes) You know how sometimes when you eat too much and you get that pulling sensation in your belly button? (Or am I the only one that eats a dozen donuts and lives to regret it?) Yeah, it's that but all across your pelvic area. You also get bloated, like a whale. Dory, is that you?

You know what else is oodles of fun? When your injection pen malfunctions. The HCG is with a needle that I measure out and then inject. Can't fuck that up. The follistim is kind of like an Epipen. Well, it threw a tantrum and decided it didn't want to work the first time around today. I had to reload the motherfucker because it wanted to be a special snowflake for a moment. (Try some whisky this go 'round). My stomach looks like I have a heroin addiction. That's cute right? I can't stand up straight for fear of ripping my stomach open. (Does that make me a humpback whale? Please kill me) 4 days down. 12 to go.

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

FAQ PT 1

I get asked a lot of questions. A lot. Some are harder to answer than others, depending on the subject matter. I have been fairly positive about my IVF endeavors. I try to come across as level headed as possible. I started injections yesterday. Not nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be. (I may have thought I would somehow do it wrong or that I'd stab myself and die). Although, I didn't think they would affect me so much emotionally. Seriously, today has been a roller coaster. So it might be the hormones talking, or I could just be having a hard time of things but good lord, today was rough! First, here are some questions that I've been asked thus far. Why didn't you want to wait? You are missing out on so much! Because Mr. Blondie and I both want to be active with our kids. (Don't really want to get down on the floor to play and struggle to get up!) We want to be able to "click" with them (as well as a parent can, at least). We want to travel with them, and show them the world. Neither of us care for the notion of "waiting for the right time", as there really is no right time or perfect time for to have a baby. We are not party goers, never have been. We aren't missing out on anything we feel is important by choosing to have children early. What does your family say? My mother only knows of recent developments, no one else in our families know of our situation. She knows I had surgery back in September, but to her knowledge, it was to diagnose my endo, NOT find out why I couldn't get pregnant. My mother is aware of my IVF and is super excited about it! (Bless her heart though, she doesn't quite get it.) We honestly haven't discussed how we will tell everyone else, as that is a huge can of worms. Obviously, I'm not the Virgin Mary dealing with immaculate conception, so Mr. Blondie being away while I "conceive" will raise questions. How do you deal with finding out others are pregnant? Remember the "difficult" questions I mentioned? This is one. When we first started trying, I'd burst into tears when someone else announced they were expecting. Get terribly upset. Poor Mr. Blondie. Even now, I still get jealous. Although that doesn't seem like the word. Bitter is a good one. Don't get me wrong, I have had a couple close friends get pregnant and I am OVER THE MOON for them. It's a very mixed emotion. I try my best to be happy for the couple, as I believe it's good karma (lord knows we need shit tons of that) and I would want someone else struggling with infertility to be happy for me. Even if they are a tiny bit bitter and jealous at first too. I guess it affects me for a few minutes, and then I move on and focus on having my baby(ies). How much have you invested financially? Oooooh Lort. Let's try and calculate.

OBGYN: $40 X 2 Primary Doctor: $25 X 3 Dr. Ditz: $40 X 8 $50 X 2 Semen Analysis: $125 Laparoscopy: $400 Cryo: $500 Bloodwork: $300+ Gas to appts: $300 Insurance Premiums: $30 X 24 $75 X 2 IVF: $2200 $5190

Which doesn't seem like a lot. I'm sure I'm forgetting some things. I can't include how many hours I had to miss at work and things like that, because I honestly don't know. This is an estimate. Most of this was incurred within the last year, as well. Yayyyyyy How can a friend be supportive of someone struggling with infertility? For the love of all that is holy, do not - I REPEAT do not say "It'll happen when it's supposed to" "Maybe it's not the right time" "Everything happens for a reason." "This is God's way of giving you a sign." First off, you're not helping. Second of all, I promise you're still not helping. For someone trying to get pregnant, any time would be the right time. From experience, when someone said that to me, I wanted to punch that person in the face. With a truck. (Not The Little Blue Truck either. More like The Dump. Anyone? No?) We get it, you can't relate. But while you may think those phrases are nice, they actually tend to remind the person that things aren't going their way and shit sucks. Things happen for no reason all the time. The only reason someone can't get pregnant is because of science. There is a glitch somewhere in the body that is fucking up everything. Instead of those phrases, listen. Let them vent. Let them cry. Hear them out. Even if you have no advice, which will probably be the case. Get mad with them! Infertility is such an unfair situation to be in, that I guarantee your friend will feel better just by talking about all the stupid shit that goes along with it. Are you pregnant now? Was asked this the other day. Nope. Have a few more weeks of tortuous needles and "surgery". I say surgery lightly because it's really just going under anesthesia, having a huge needle stabbed through my uterus and into my ovaries, and then the doctor taking eggs out. Takes 5 minutes. At least, I keep telling myself that. How likely is it you'll get pregnant? Well, according to SART (Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology) I have a 51% of having a live birth. Also called a take home baby. This is actually considered high for in vitro. IVF does not guarantee a baby, like most people think. The only reason it is so high is because we are transferring 2 embryos. Transferring 1 would bring me down to 34% success. So it's a maybe? Aren't you worried buying things will jinx you? I know plenty of people that have bought tons of baby items before they were even considering having kids. The way I see it is if you like something, buy it. It might not be there when you do have kids. Bonus points if it's on sale. I do get the jinx thing. And it didn't really occur to me until I was asked this. Being in my hormone induced state right now, we're just going to pretend this question doesn't exist. I don't really believe in "jinxing" but at this point I need all the good juju I can get.

Any more questions? Bring 'em on!

[blueeyedwifey-blog]

‘bout time

I must say, once you’ve paid a hefty sum to a Doctor’s office, they treat you extra nice. I had my first official IVF appointment today. It consisted of bloodwork, an ultrasound by Dr. Lady, and meeting with Nurse Wonderful.

At every appointment I've ever been to, they weigh you, take your blood pressure and height, and ask when the first day of your last cycle was. Today, I got blood drawn too! I did pretty well, if I say so myself. Didn't even flinch. (Okay, that way a lie. But, I still took it like a champ.)

Then I got to see Dr. Lady, who was still darling as ever. Seriously, I think she goes home to her five cats and binge watches Doctor Who. Not that that's a bad thing. She just screams cat lady personality, though. I got a magic wand ultrasound, which sounds way cooler than it actually was, while she tried to make conversation. Essentially, it was a blast as usual. Good news! No cysts, or polyps. Hurray! I get to continue with the cycle and start meds.

I was then informed I would get to meet with Nurse Wonderful and go over the meds and how to use them. Ooohhh goody! *cue eyeroll* She ended up being pleasant today. I guess now that I've paid all of my fees, I'm a valid patient, and I get treated like an actual person. I think she's still a little salty that I proved her wrong about the whole FDA thing, but there was another woman in the room, so she probably had to be on her best behavior. That was it! I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn and drive over an hour for a 20 minute appointment.

My meds arrived like this:

Some of them have to be refrigerated, hence the big freezer bag.

This is what was in the bag. Follistim-Designed to make ovaries go crazy! This is the one that Dr. Ditz tripled the dosage of so that I *hopefully* produce a lot of eggs for retrieval. All the pink things are needles. Seems like a lot, right? Well apparently I get to use ALL of them by the end of it. Maybe. I hope not because that's a shit ton of needles. You load the medicine into the pen, dial it up to what dose you need and then attach the needle and inject. I have to take 300 units of this. 300. That is so much. I'll have to get refills of this because I only have enough for 6 days. HCG-Which I don't have. Pregnancy Hormone, pretty self explanatory. It came in a separate order and hasn't arrived as of posting time. Just a tiny little vial. Nothing major. Both of these are the only ones I take until my next appointment, then I add in a third. Cetrotide-Prevents ovulation, so that I can trigger it with Ovidrel. Dr. Ditz is supposedly going to tell me when to start this. It's the complicated one. I have to mix the powder in the vial with the liquid in the syringe, and then inject it. It's the only one that I was told would feel like shit. The equivalent, which my insurance didn't cover, is already premixed. Boooo!

I take all of these (I think) until retrieval, which is the second week of May. So for the next 2-ish weeks? Someone please kill me. The rest of my box contents are for after retrieval and transfer. I'll explain those when the time comes. So far, just for the cycle, Mr. Blondie and I have spent $2200. This doesn't include my anesthesiologist fee for retrieval, which is $350. Nor does it include my fee for refills, which I will need.

And it definitely doesn't include the cloth diapers and baby clothes I've already bought. #nojudgment