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.