TWW symptom?

What, excessive vomiting isn't a TWW symptom? Are you sure?

Oh, ummm... don't read the rest of this post if you have a faint stomach.















I don't know if it's a stomach virus or food poisoning, but it really ruined my beauty sleep.
Have you ever woke up because you threw up on yourself?
Oh, c'mon, I'm not the only one am I?

Yeah, I said it. I didn't just wake up because I felt like vomiting... no, I woke up because I did it in my sleep.

And that set the mood for the next half hour, where I violently lost everything I ate on Friday. I mean everything. And when I say violently, well... I was screaming, while vomiting, because it just kept coming up so suddenly, and I couldn't stop it. It was like a volcano eruption.

And I have asthma, so I was starting to have an asthma attack mid spew. And it was awful because I honestly thought I was going to pass out because I couldn't breath. I mean, it kept coming so quickly that I could barely breath between it's comings and goings.

Awful. Absolutely awful.
I haven't ate anything yet, I'm actually terrified of food right now.

And I am 7 days past ovulation now, roughly.
I hope this little detour doesn't mess with things.

The long road less traveled

I've been at this for awhile now- it's been 29 months, October officially marks the 2.5 year mark. I find that the longer I travel this long dark road, the harder it gets. Not just with finding the inspiration, the courage, the strength to continue- I mean the motivation, finding bravery in the face of all this loss, failure, and fear.

See, so far I have ovulated 3, maybe 4, times. I have experienced that positive pregnancy test twice now. I have experienced that excruciating pain of pregnancy loss twice as well. I have learned that fertility treatments can make dreams come true, but for some of us they feed false hopes.

There are a great many things this journey has stolen from me, things I will always miss. I will never again look at a positive pregnancy test with a sense of joy. I will never feel excited and carefree as I tell people that I'm pregnant; I never even had that, and I never will. I will never have that naivety in pregnancy back. My first pregnancy will not be remembered with joy. I will never feel confident that I am having a baby until I have a living breathing child in my arms. Holidays are filled with dread, because I fear that someone will happily announce their good news- and I will have to hide in the bathroom because as strong as I am, I am not strong enough for that. I resent that I can't be happy for other people the way I used to be, because I feel too sorry for myself and I can't seem to get past that anymore.

Our family relationships have been forever changed- I will forever resent the way my family decided to treat me after my first miscarriage, and how hard it was on me. I will resent how my husband's family act like all this is so easy, how all of them knew about the miscarriages and that only my mother-in-law said anything, and how even she did not speak to me after the second one. I will resent their insinuations that we should adopt even though they can't begin to understand how difficult that really is- and how they seem to think that we will just let them in our lives when we have children, even though they have nothing to do with us at all as we suffer. I'm resentful because they love their grandchildren so much, and they dote on them so much at Holidays that I feel even worse, because I can't give their son a child. And because I know they didn't like me to begin with, I can't help but wonder if they hate me even more now because of this.

I'm resentful because I am so bitter. I don't want to be.

I used to be confident that I would be a good mother. The longer I walk this road, the more I doubt this. I haven't changed personally- I mean, I'm more weathered and my life situation has improved since we started- but I doubt my future parenting skills now. And it all boils down to this- the longer I have to think about what it means to be a parent, the more terrified I get.

I mean, watching my niece run around like a wild-child who doesn't understand the word "no", and getting worn out from just spending an hour with her- I have to ask myself, do I have what it takes? When I actually think about my entire life focus would shift (Well, not entirely- right now it's all focused on becoming a parent. It would just shift to being a parent.) I mean, afternoons watching television with my husband would be out, sitting on the computer and playing online as much as I do would be out, reading books and being absorbed in an art project, going out on a whim... all out. How would I handle situations that come up? What about stitches, school issues, babysitting, etc... We don't have a good extended network of family, I have to figure most things out myself. Illness, weaning, potty training, child safety proofing my house, an active toddler getting into stuff, and the horrible horrible teen years... it scares the beejeezus out of me.

But then I remind myself, it all comes in it's own due time. You adapt, you trade off. A night sitting in reading a book, becomes reading and learning time together. Working on an art project becomes arts and crafts time. Going out on whims becomes date nights, or family trips, or family nights in. Life would become different, but in a way you have (if you're like me) desired for years. You learn as you go along- most people don't have it all figured out before they become parents.

And then I stop hyperventilating.
I want to be a mother- even if it scares me now more than ever.

I wonder if most people even think about what is really involved in becoming a parent- I mean truly think about it- before they take the plunge.

I am thankful for some things on this journey- I know that I will be a better parent now, I have had plenty of time to prepare, plenty of time to be more gracious, plenty of time to acknowledge that this isn't going to be easy at all. I have longed and suffered so much in pursuit of this dream- I know it will be worth it. I now understand how much my husband truly loves me. I count my blessings, and mourn my losses, and keep walking- I have become stronger, more resilient, because of it. I've realized that my life really is wonderful, and even if it doesn't work out the way I want it too- I can still be happy.

Am I glad I have infertility?

No- but life gives us what it gives us, and we have no choice but to either work with it, or to give up. So, I keep working with it- even if each step feels like agony.

A closer look at IUI

The IUI really was the simplest part of this whole process. We dropped off our specimen first thing in the morning, and then came back an hour later.

When we returned, we got to sit in the room for about ten minutes while we waited on the doctor. After she arrived, she got the catheter and specimen ready to go, inserted the speculum and the next think I knew- she was done. Didn't feel the catheter at all. I got to lay for ten minutes, and then we left.

Afterward there was some cramping but that was manageable with my trusty acetaminophen- and it passed quickly. So, overall the IUI was pretty simple. Of course, I have to question why the thing costs so much, but everything about infertility costs a fortune- so it doesn't surprise me.

I guess my main issue with IUI for us, is that I just don't think it's neccessary. I mean, maybe it will give us an extra 1-3% chance of getting pregnant... but the sperm meeting the egg hasn't been our problem at all. Our problem is egg production, and losing babies. So, the IUI- although simple- seems wasteful. I mean, I'll be glad if it works out, and it was certainly less stressful for me than trying to have intercourse when I didn't want to (2.5 years of infertility and I'm just now finding minor issues with getting in "the mood") But I still felt it was a waste of money.

I don't know- maybe it's my psychosis with believing that everything was for nothing.

But I have to tell myself that, really, because I don't want to get my hopes up. Not right now.

I started the progesterone supplements last night. They are gross, but I'll do what I have to in order to give this cycle a fighting chance. I owe it that much, I suppose.

And we are now 2 days past ovulation. I am pretty positive I ovulated the day of my HCG trigger shot, or the day afterward. Just judging my my body's reaction, my basal body temperature, and such. I could be wrong- I mean maybe I didn't actually ovulate at all.

Who knows. I certainly don't. I'm just making wild assumptions.

And now

the wait.

We went out early, got the deed done. I must say, it was interesting to drive down the highway with a cup of my husband's sperm shoved in my bra. But, had to keep it warm... or maybe, I just felt it couldn't hurt. His numbers were "excellent", per the doctor. I believe the stats were like 79 million swimmers with 65% motility...

At least one of us has working parts.

The IUI was pretty painless, just like a pap.
Except for the mild cramping afterward- that was annoying.

Afterward I had my husband stop at the dollar tree where I purchased several cheap home pregnancy tests, which I will use to test out the trigger shot... I may be a little O.C.D. But, you know, testing it out is one of the few things I have control over.

At this point, pretty much everything is out of my hands. I have some old fashioned baby making to tackle, but other than that... it really is out of my hands. Thank goodness- I finally get to relax.

The cashier probably thinks I was a nutjob because of how many I bought, ha ha ha.

And now, since there were far more witty things to say... and they just aren't forming into coherent thoughts, probably due to sleep deprivation... I am going to take a nice Saturday afternoon nap.

Surprises-

are not always good.

Do you remember how awesome Righty was doing? Yeah?
Well, Righty surprised even the doctor today.
Righty gave up. What a slacker.
That nice 14 and 16 from just two days ago? Gone. Shrunk.
I totally didn't see that coming.

Shame on you Righty.

Now lefty- at least- decided that enough is enough.
Lefty took it upon herself to go ahead and make a 17, a 16.6, and another 16.
If you recall, just two days ago all Lefty had was a 12 and a 15.

Go Lefty.

Of course, my doctor was concerned that maybe I was getting ready to surge on my own. So, rather than allow that craziness to happen, we went ahead and triggered. (*sigh*) I would have liked them to be a mm or two bigger, but I guess I should be thankful that they're even still there at all.

So, we go ahead with the IUI tomorrow morning.
Then I start the progesterone suppositories (ick) Sunday night.
And then, everyone (except me) will just have to hope for the best.

I'm definitely not optimistic about this cycle.
I may have had an inkling of hope before (that rat bastard)-
but I think I have thoroughly squelched it out now.

And so, the wait begins.

Hope-

that dangerous, devlish, thought.

Don't let me dare breath it out-loud.
Help me repress it, please.

Things are progressing just as they should be.
I don't have my E2 for you yet, but here's what I have:
A 14 and 16 on Righty & a 12 and 15 on Lefty.

If things continue like this, I will be able to trigger by Friday.
And a possible IUI on Saturday.

I was given the option of a back-to-back IUI, but we pay out of pocket and have no known sperm issues (Not that we bothered testing, but with three ovulations resulting in two pregnancies, and this far into our journey- I'm just not that interested. I know, I know- I should, it's good to know... but I prefer not to.)

So, since I am guessing I respond quickly to the HCG, I opted for the 24hour IUI, rather than the 48 or 36hour. My doctor is okay with this, though she recommends doing two. But, I am still not sure that we will even have one. I can loosely plan on having one, but that doesn't mean we will. Many things can go wrong- follicle insubordination, inability to perform from pressure, the car could break down (I will bum a ride in this scenerio, so it's the least worriesome!)

The bottom line- I don't want to allow myself to get too hopeful. Yes, there are follicles. Yes, I may actually (for reals) ovulate this time. The pieces are falling where they should- but we all know that this could still mean nothing.

So, I'd just rather not be hopeful.
Suppress, suppress, supress...

Where we once were

Sunday my blood work got messed up- apparently there wasn't enough serum to run my estradiol level? Yeah, I don't get it either- the women took half a vial. Apparently that was half a vial too little.

So Monday, we had to get it re-done. So we went to a lab that was closer, but is still part of the lab corporation, so it should have been processed- right? No, they didn't send it out like they should have. So, I had to wait until today to finally get my E2... a nice 271.
___________________________________________________

So, let's re-cap where we are this cycle, compared to my last injectable cycle... shall we?

This cycle I had an E2 of
34 on CD3,
then 52 by CD 6,
271 by CD10.
I also already have a 10 and an 11 maximum this cycle, per my ultrasound on Sunday.
I was upped to 225iu by CD6.

Last time I had an E2 of
34 on CD11,
then 86 by CD17,
160 by CD20,
and 296 by CD23.
I had an 11 finally on CD 20 that cycle.
I didn't get upped to 225iu until CD 23... and even then, he only thought I was on 187.5iu.

What a huge difference.
I wonder what tomorrow's ultrasound and blood work will show?
___________________________________________________

Oh, yesterday was my husband's birthday too. So, he enjoyed getting up early on his birthday/day off work, and going with me for some needle-sticking-fun. I made up for it by letting him eat wherever he wanted for lunch, which was a mistake- a big one. I don't mind burritos every now and then, but they upset my tummy big time. I think I ate too much of it, or it had too much lime... because yesterday I was nauseous all day. I'm glad he enjoyed it though.

We actually celebrated his birthday on Friday, because my little brother was here to share it with us.

My little brother still stays with us on the weekends, he is insistent... and I am not going to argue, because I love him and enjoy our time together. I can't believe it will be his birthday in another two weeks- and he'll already be 14!

I bought my husband some computer-geek t-shirts, and made him a tacky computer cake with binary on it- see? The binary was supposed to read, "Happy Birthday" but I ran out of room.

I know, it's not very good looking- but it was delicious and unexpected. So he liked it.

I am older than my husband, by 8 months (that's almost a year!) so every year I joke with him about how he finally caught up to me- and then the cradle robbing jokes begin. See, he was two months away from his 18th birthday when we actually started dating- and I was already 18, obviously.

Oh, I know- terrible.
__________________________________________

I should have a cycle update tomorrow- let's hope it's a good one!

Ramblings of a dejected mind

I go back to see my doctor tomorrow morning. As much as I feel comfortable with this doctor, love this doctor, wish this cycle would work- I can't feel it. I can't believe in it. I feel more confident, I feel we're at least putting forth some effort here... but after my last medicated cycle, I have very little faith in anything.

I can't even tell if my ovaries are actually starting to feel sore, or if I am just imagining it, or if that's just because of all the walking I did yesterday. I don't even want to think about it, because no matter what conculsion I come to? It would mean nothing.

And this migraine I got today? I won't allow myself to imagine that it's from the medication. I do get migraines on a weekly basis anyway, and though I get them more often on treatments... well, I'd prefer to think that just my regular inconvient migraines.

Other than that, working until midnight so often has really been dragging me down. My sleep pattern is all off, and I am burnt out. Totally done with this, and looking foward to having a week off soon. My co-workers, gah. I only see them for 5 minutes while we change shifts, but they are grating my nerves. Am I bitchy much? Maybe. I just don't like their attitudes, some of them are so snooty. As if I don't sound snooty right now... right? I'm chalking the bitch factor up to just being a run of the mill bitter bitch- and not because of the hormones.
____________________________________

Want some TMI?
Let's talk about dil.do cams, shall we?

My old RE had a wand that hurt, it was so odd shapped. Like a freaking triangle on the end, except reversed, like no soft covering on the stupid wand. It reminded me of a minature abdominal wand, on a long stick. Ungh. The machine, the wand, were all so outdated. Everytime he dug for lefty, I bit back a yelp. So unpleasant.

My new doc has a newer machine, and it's more aerodynamic... I don't even feel it, like at all. Now, I know this sounds silly... but this is important. You have to have this thing shoved up where it don't belong, a huge violation of your privacy, unpleasant all the way around... the least they could do is make them more natural. A good wand seems to be hard to come by, but this one is much better. Thought I'd share that with you, because among the differences in the offices, this may seem minor... but it's really not. I know we don't talk about these types of things often, but we should.

Or I could be rambling again, I didn't get much sleep again...
___________________________________

There was totally something else I was meaning to write about, something I've been mulling over... but I keep forgetting about it. Maybe someday soon I will remember, and I'll be all over that. If I can remember what it was in the first place...
___________________________________

Update tomorrow, I suppose.

Working on it

My DHEA-S did indeed come back elevated, at 370. My testosterone also came back high, at 93. So, adding the Dexamethosone was a good idea. I'm glad I researched it, and that she already knew about it. I would never have been able to go on it if I had stayed with my old RE- 1. he would never have tested my levels, and if he did he wouldn't have actually looked at them, and 2. He would have brushed off my research articles and told me they were fodder.

I am hopeful that this will help some, even if it's not on this particular cycle.

So far, I haven't had much follicle growth. A few of them seem to have maybe pumped up a little, but not really. It was kind of depressing, because I started at a higher dose this time. But, it's only been three days. I suppose that there isn't usually much growth in three days, is there? Last cycle there wasn't much growth by 20 days (*grumbles*) But we're not going to let that happen again, so no worries. If nothing is going on, we'll just stop.

The E2 went up to 52, from 34. So, some progress there. We're upping the dose and coming back in on Sunday morning- hoping for some more progress.

My liver function levels came back down to the normal range- yay for the Metformin.

My fasting glucose was good, but borderline. So, we get to up my dose of Metformin. Ewww. I hate upping the Metformin, the gastrointestinal effects suck- but I'll do what I need to.

Not all my clotting panel is back yet, but one did come back a little abnormal- it's clotting heterozygous PAI-1. With this gene, I have one normal and one abnormal (4g 5g)? So, while this may cause a problem, it might not. As a precaution I was told to start taking a low-dose aspirin a day.

My doctor actually called me and talked about these with me, so that was a nice change. I got to ask all my questions, and she took time to answer them. It was just really, really, nice. At my old REs I would talk to the nurse, she would talk to him and call me back, and we'd play tag.

So, that's something I guess. Still waiting for the rest of the testing to come in, and until then I will just shoot up with the hormones and see what happens.

I guess, here we go

They were open, and we are proceeding with this cycle after all. I started the Dexamethasone today, and get to pump myself full of 150ius of FSH tonight. I go back in on Thursday for a monitoring appointment.

I am still in awe about how much nicer this new clinic is.

The doctor actually recognized me when I walked in, so did the nurse. They actually remembered my history, have looked at my charts, were talking about the blood work and about it not being in yet and trying to find out more. They're extremely helpful, eager to answer questions and to give me whatever I might need. It is amazing.

Even if this doesn't work out, I am still really glad I found this office. Just the personal touches, the bedside manner, being proactive and up on new research, well... it's enough of a difference for me.

I'm still not an optimist, but I feel a little better about things today.

Why you shouldn't make plans

Well, I guess it should say, "Why I shouldn't make plans..."

In my life making plans has been like locking the door to bar depression, while secretly opening a window for disappointment. As much as it makes me feel like I am doing something proactive, I am actually damning myself.

At least, it feels that way.

I had planned on getting my visit from mother nature between the tenth and the fifteenth. My body had other plans, and thought yesterday would be a good day to stomp all over my plans.

Why did I plan that specific timing? Well, first my work schedule, then because of when my husband and I get paid, and of course more time to prepare and be at the ready for this coming cycle. Now, I don't know if there is going to be a this cycle- that's what I get for planning.

I have yet to have my blood work back, I still need some drawn on cycle day three when I get a baseline (Which, oh by the way is a Holiday, and I still don't know if the REs office is open.) I still need to have some prescriptions filled, and I am just freaking out a little right now.

It feels like I was shot down before I even began. Granted, I may still be able to move on with this cycle... but I am not very hopeful at this point. Maybe I'm having a bad day- or maybe the universe is out to get me. Either way, I feel stupid.

Why make plans? It feels good to have a heading, but when you get lost at take off... it's not so good.

I'm spinning in circles, I'm getting dizzy. Where there was once possible hope (what a demon bitch) there is now a crushing weight. I hope (gah!) we still move on with this cycle, even if we don't use my leftover medications... because all I want is to have the chance to ovulate.

I'm not even asking to ovulate, I just want a chance at it. Cycle after cycle after cycle of not ovulating takes it's toll on a person, it's a destitute kind of hopelessness. It's like knowing month after month, that there is nothing- nothing- you can do. Except save money, save money, and keep looking at all options. But nothing gets you closer to what you want. Small increments of money here and there, but it feels like nothing. There is no proof that you are getting anywhere, because it's just a drop in the bucket.

I guess I'll wake up first thing tomorrow, and give them a call. Maybe they'll be open, maybe they won't. Maybe we will get to use the leftover injectables, maybe we won't.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. I am so sick of maybes.

Continuation

So, a major basal body temperature dip this morning- along with some heavy brown/pink spotting- has me convinced that the new cycle is really anxious to start. So I guess I will just stop the progesterone, because I'm going to start whether I am still taking it or not.

This is so messed up. The timing sucks, hopefully this isn't technically cycle day one today... but I'll find out with the *next couple of hours, I'm sure.

Stupid. Freakin'. Body.




*Update: Yup, definitely cycle day one.

"My body is a battle ground."

I've said that before, but now I feel it even more. It's almost like my body is out to get me sometimes.

I am 8 days into my progesterone to bring on a new cycle, and today I find spotting. I'm still supposed to take the progesterone for 4 more days- so why am I spotting? I took it a few hours late yesterday, but that is hardly cause for spotting today. It doesn't make sense.

Maybe it will stop.
It's really really light, but still worrisome because I should not be spotting yet.

Stupid body, I swear. It can't do anything right.

On another note, my progesterone vaginal suppositories came in the mail today. And are put away for now, until I need them. Although, with my recent foray, I wonder if they will even do any good.

I guess we'll see. I'll let the new RE know what's been going on. I didn't respond well to the progesterone last cycle either. My basal body temperature has barely risen. And now, the progesterone is making me so sleepy after I take it. A new development as well.

I just don't get it.

The humorous side of IF, and the rest of the story

So, I am going to finish laying out my treatment plans here.
The other day I just kind of rushed it, but I wanted to finish the story.

So, I was not expecting to have a look down under at my consultation. I was surprised that she wanted to go ahead and look at the old ovaries and uterus. But, I figured sure. It'd probably be a good idea.

So, it wasn't embarrassing enough that I hadn't shaved my legs in... awhile. No, let's add some more humor into the mix. How about I'm naked from the waist down, and I'm assuming the position... when I almost fell off the table, and totally flashed everything like it's nobodies business.

Yeah, that would happen to me.

We got out to the car, and my husband had to say, "The best part was when you almost fell off the table." And he proceeded to laugh about it. Thanks honey.

Of course, I have to laugh too. It was pretty funny.
Now what is that they say about first impressions?

I hope I made a lasting one, ha ha.

My new RE, let's call her Dr. Incredulous. She couldn't believe some of the stuff I wasn't tested for, which is why she's ordered a slew of stuff. She wants to more thoroughly test my glucose and insulin levels, retest my liver enzymes, and retest my TSH and Prolactin. She also wants to test me for a complete Thrombophilia panel (Since Dr. BlowsSunshine only tested me for APS). And then at CD3, I am having my DHEAS and Androgrens tested, and possibly some other things, because Dr. BlowsSunshine didn't test them, because they don't test them at their clinic. Yeah, odd, I know.

The reason we want to go ahead with the injects this month, rather than waiting for a laproscopic procedure... well, the main thing is that the medicine I have is going to expire. That's the main drive. But also, I have my final quarter of college starting soon. If I go ahead with the laparoscopic surgery I don't think I'd be going ahead with it until after I graduate in December. It just makes more sense to us right now. Plans are always subject to change, of course. But I think it'd just be better to wait to try it. Besides, I still should still respond to the injectables- cysts or not.

Darn PCOS. How I loathe you... always rearing your ugly head.

We will see what happens with the blood work, and what she wants to do. She is leaning towards wanting me to up my dosage of Metformin to a higher dose. I also get to take vaginal progesterone suppositories after ovulation from now on, if I ever ovulate. She also thinks I might benefit from adding Dexamethasone during my treatment. Dexamethasone is a glucocorticoid just like Prednisone.

I am inclined to agree. One, the first cycle I ovulated on Clomid I was on a higher dose of Metformin. And the second time, when I got pregnant, I was on Prednisone (for whiplash) And so, I am thinking those two variations had something to do with it too.

During my research over the last few weeks, I actually found articles about that too (Here's one, here's one, here's one. For more, feel free to look it up on Pubmed.gov and just type in glucocortoids and clomiphene citrate) For anovulatory women with PCOS, who are clomiphene citrate resistent, and have elevated DHEAS levels, there has actually been some success with adding glucocortoids to an extended clompihene citrate regimen.

I was surprised to find those articles. And I actually got a little excited, and wondered if this was the cause of my very successful clomiphene citrate cycle. I was on Prednisone, and I took clomiphene citrate for 7 days instead of 5. Extended clomiphene citrate alone did not work after again two months after the miscarriage. Coincidence?

At the very least, it is fascinating. This research still looks fairly new, but fairly promising too. I hope they look more into it, this could be a cheaper answer than injectables for some of us anovulatory PCOSers.

We are still thinking about embryo adoption. I would love to move forward with that, but we are going to go ahead and give this a try first. And if this cycle of injectables fails, we will try Clomid again- probably with Dexamethasone- while we keep saving for the possibility of embryo adoption. Because I am still very interested in embryo adoption.

I know my child is out there somewhere, no matter how it shall come to me- biologically or adopted. And until then, I'm just going to do what I can.

Eleven years

Eleven years, and a few days, ago...
How could I have forgotten to mark it's passing.

I was getting in the van to go home from my friends house.
And my mother told me, those horrible horrible words,
"D- lost the baby."

And I couldn't understand, "What?" I said.
And she replied, "The baby died."

I was fourteen, and this was my first experience with death.
My niece. Beautiful Amariah.
She was full term when her heart beat stopped.
Just like that.

My sister was younger than I am now.
And none of us saw it coming.

Babies aren't supposed to die.

Half-way across the county, alone, my sister mourned.
We only heard how she mourned, we couldn't be there for her in person.
We heard of her holding Amariah for hours, staying in the nursery holding what was left of hopes and dreams.

Half-way across the country, I cried in the backseat of a van while we went home.
And I spent weeks watching my mother cry, and not completely understanding.
Because, when I saw her last she had been fine. Her belly huge with expectations.

I couldn't understand what happened. But I could cry.

I can't believe I forgot the anniversary until it had passed. It's already September.
It's like Amariah died a few days ago. And I cried all over again today.

Beautiful, perfect, Amariah.
Your auntie still misses you.
Even after all these years-
I still love you.

Competence is a good thing

The new doctor seems much more thorough and competent, to say the least.

She was very receptive to my ideas and information, and actually answered all my questions in the course of our conversation.

As things stand, I have to go get some blood work done. We're doing a re-check of some things, and checking on some others. It's way more than what Dr. BlowsSunshine ever ran.

Pending the results, we may be adding a steroid to my treatment, to suppress DHEAS and Androgens during treatment. Also, she will be adding progesterone to my luteal phase. So, that is good. Better safe than sorry, if you ask me.

She went ahead and did an ultrasound today, and took note of my now cystic ovaries. I swear to you, before all these treatments my ovaries were fairly clear. Now they are horrible looking. She mentioned possibly doing a laproscopy to check everything out and possibly do ovarian drilling. I said nay to that for now, maybe sometime in the future I will try that out. But not interested right now.

We will be going ahead next cycle with my leftover injectable medication. I figure, it needs used, so let's go ahead and use it. After that, if this doesn't work out, we may go ahead with the laproscopy and drilling while we take a break- just because it should be covered by insurance, and I might as well.

We are still thinking about embryo adoption, and are still pretty sure we want to move forward with it. But, we're going to give this a try first.

As I said before, if this doesn't work out, my heart will not break.
So, I might as well give it a try.

Fighting and Ignoring

I am ready for my appointment tomorrow. I have all my personal records printed off, articles printed and ready for discussion, forms completed... now all I need is the medical records faxed from one office to the other. I faxed them the release last Monday, but wait, the guy that handles the medical records was on vacation.

Go figure. The message on the medical records extension did not tell me this, I had to call and speak with the receptionist. And no, no one else could possibly fax them. What the hell? He's been on vacation all week, and no one else can do his job? Just messed up, if you ask me.

So, he is supposed to fax them first thing in the morning. If he isn't there for some reason, I am going to have to drive out of my way, and personally force those people to give me my own damn records. I am a little pissed off, can you tell? Why is it so hard to get my own records.

Coincidentally, my mother (whose word can't be trusted completely, because she is legally insane... so I take this at face value) tells me that one of my hundreds of cousins goes to the clinic I am about to go to. He apparently has something male factor amiss with him. It was then that I realized I am now one of those legends among the family, "Oh, you know R-s daughter, S-? She can't have kids. She's had two miscarriages." Just like my one cousin who had three miscarriages, then twins. Legends.

There are hundreds of us, but we become the legends. I am not exaggerating about the hundreds, by the way- my mother was one of 13 children. My father was one of 6. I have over a hundred cousins and second cousins. I don't know more than 20 of them. Most of them are super fertile. Except for us legends. It's not quite the way I thought that I'd earn my name...

I pretty much spent today ignoring the fact that my appointment is tomorrow. I hung out with friends, had a little fun. I was mostly successful too, I might add. We hit the thrift stores, and my friend insisted on buying me a sweet Halloween costume dress. It's gorgeous. She also insisted on buying me speakers I found, because my record player sadly lost it's speakers to a cord fatality a year ago. And now, I sit listening to my old records.

My, how I've missed them. I have this sweet record set of the Col.e Por.ter song book, performed by El.la Fit.zger.ald herself. So beautiful. And then, my Fran.k Si.nat.ra records, oh heaven- I'm in heaven. If you've never heard them on vinyl, you don't know what you're missing. It is so much better than disc; and I know that sounds cliche, but it is the truth.

So, I'll let the distractions continue. Because they are better than the alternative.
More to come tomorrow, when I face reality head-on.