Blogging as a form of distraction

Okay. I can deal with this. I am trying not to fall into crisis mode. Trying really hard. Paul called last night and his flight leaving Philly was delayed due to weather. Okay, weather delays happen. Deep breath. I had no idea that all of this was happening until late last night because he couldn't get in touch with me while I was at work. So, all evening I worry and fret and stew that he doesn't care at all. It was a stressful day and the dramatics make their appearance once the stress kicks in. And finally, I hear from him. And he's cranky. I hate it when he's cranky and I can't do anything to help. He ran gate to gate only to watch his flight to Albuquerque pulling away. I've been there. There is no worse feeling. Getting a hotel was no picnic either. He got a room (the last room) in a hotel close to the airport. He was scheduled to arrive this morning at 9:45 this morning. But when my phone rang at 6am this morning I was awakened to more bad news. He missed his flight. He flight was supposed to leave Minneapolis/St Paul at 6:30. And he woke up at 5:50a. Even if he is close to the airport, that's bad. Panic sets it. Cabs were called. Terminals confused the cab driver. Cab driver didn't take credit cards. And the like. Needless to say, he was attempting to check in as his flight was leaving the gate. Man, two missed flights. I believe that's a record for us. And it's happening the day of our embryo transfer. Of course it is. I didn't sleep much after a wake up call like that. Please don't let there be mechanical problems. Please don't let there be mechanical problems. Please don't let there be mechanical problems. This is not the end of the world. I can hold it together. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

And then there were...umm, 16?

I only had one inch 25 gauge needles. I need inch and a half long needles for my PIO. So, I called the RE's office this morning and asked if I should use them or if I should seek out inch a half long needles. I, of course, had an ulterior motive. I don't want to be the kind of patient that calls all the time and needs lots of hand holding. I've got friends for hand holding. But I wanted to know how my embryos are doing. I can't stop thinking about them. I love them. I've never even seen them. But my heart is so attached to them I can hardly describe it. So, I asked the Wendy how they were doing. And when I showed up at the clinic this afternoon my wonderful doctor came out to deliver the good news. Out of 21 that fertilized we have 16 that are cleaving. They are of varying quality and won't be officially rated until Tuesday or Wednesday. 16 is still really good folks. Please continue to thrive. Please, my little babies.

Just a quick rhetorical question. What is with the unsolicited assvice? Why do people feel the need to offer this to someone they do not know at all. My friend Marlene invited me to the zoo this morning. I was an absolute zombie. I guess we know which hormone we can attribute to early pregnancy exhaustion. I was seriously practically sleep walking. During lunch I told her that I was sorry that I was so tired. She knows some pretty basic information about the treatment that I am currently on but doesn't know specifics. I told her they changed some of my drugs and they zap me of any and all energy. Marlene's friend that was with us, interjected and said that she knew lots of people who had done what I am doing and while saying this, made the gun shape with her hand and pointed it to her ass as if to confirm what treatment I am doing. Ummm, could she not? Is that too much to ask? Not to mention, please not eavesdrop on my conversation. She followed this by saying, "well, the best advice I can give you is to just be patient." All right, I know I am tired but I think I would have at least recalled asking for her advice. I just stared at her. As if to say, you didn't just say that to me, did you? After five fucking years of trying to have a baby I think I'm kind of getting the hang of patience. I had not been whining about my sad situation. I had not been dwelling on what it might be like to have a healthy happy family. Not to mention, why does this stranger think that this cycle isn't going to work for us. This woman doesn't even know my first name. Much less, what our diagnosis is. What treatments we have done. What the stats at our clinic are. What type of cycle we are doing. And every other detail that pertains only to us. But don't forget that patience will solve our problems. She had dreadfully behaved children. I wonder if she would have liked my unsolicited advice as well.

The irony about infertility

We are continuing to move forward with the prospect of moving into the new house. We are going to be doubling our current mortgage payment which every time I think about it makes my stomach jump into my throat. In order to fork out the money for this DE cycle we pulled some money out when we refinanced the house earlier this year. The house we are currently in is 1306 square feet. And we are literally bursting at the seams. Well, we have more clutter than I prefer at any rate. There certainly isn't much room for a baby here. And there really isn't room for two. We could absolutely make it work if we had to but I'd really like a bigger house. The likelihood that I can have a baby naturally is almost nil so if we want to have children we need to come up with the big bucks. Prior to the refinance we had about $70K in equity in the house. We pulled $20K out in the refinance and now we're looking at having only around $30K to put towards the new down payment. Damn realtors fees and upgrades to the house! That is a big chunk of change! So, if I have a baby I need to move. But in order to have the baby I have to spend money that should go towards the house. But in order to get the new house I need more money. Which I spent trying to have the baby in the first place. Sigh. It's a sad little cycle. It's time to be grateful. At least we have the opportunity to even try for a baby. I'm grateful for that.

More irony. My friend Shari and I were looking at baby stuff online the other day. We were looking at extravagant thousand dollar strollers and I recommended www.poshtots.com for giggles. It's obnoxious celebrity type stuff that real people can't afford and would never spend money on. I'm probably overstating here but look at the name of the place for pete's sake. I had seen this bed before and was shocked at the time. Now, I just think it's hilarious. Looking at this bed brings out the inner princess in all of us until we see the price tag. Click here for the link. Her first remark when she saw the bed was that she wanted that bed for herself. Well, who wouldn't? We were talking about the outrageous price when she suddenly stopped. "I spent more than that on infertility treatments last year. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing! I should have bought that stupid bed." We laughed still but we were a little saddened too.

Yes, it's been a week filled with irony.

Our adventures with PIO

I think I forgot to blog about our mini adventure with PIO with our canceled cycle. I shall recap because I think it's funny. As previously noted I am doing all my own injections because of Paul's travel schedule. I conquered the sub-q's. In fact, after doing them for almost 12 weeks straight, they've actually gotten a little dull. So, when I was to do my first PIO last time I was just as nervous as I had been when I had to do my first lupron injection. I drew up the PIO and changed needle tips and just stared at that giant needle. It made me shiver. I was terrified. I would take off the tip and aim. And then I would shrink away in fear only to recap the needle. This went on for forty five minutes. Yep, you read that right. Forty five minutes I paced back and forth in my bedroom. And every five or so minutes I would yell at Paul to come in and tell me how to do the injection. Again. He's so patient. And then I would banish him. Actually, more like scream at him to get out of my bedroom. He was stressing me out. And then call him back. And then banish him. It's really pretty remarkable that he spoke to me at all after that. Now, more than an hour after this process had started I finally got up the nerve to poke myself. Such an idiot, I am. An inch and a half needle is not any bigger deal than a sub-q needle. Only the initial poke hurts. I should know this by now. So, after the initial shock of sticking a giant needle in my backside wore off I decided the purpose of this fun little exercise was to actually get the drugs into me. And I reached around to attempt to push the top of that little syringe down. It wouldn't budge. At all. It felt like I was pushing against a vacuum. Wait! I thought the hard part was over, right? Apparently not. I tried and tried all to no avail. Damn! I was going to have to ask Paul to come in and save the day. You see, this is why you shouldn't bite the hand that injects you. Or whatever. Thankfully because this needle is so freaking long I didn't have to stay contorted into a crazy position in order to leave the needle in. It stayed in all on its own. When Paul came into our bedroom to investigate the problem, and discovered me with my pants at my ankles, tears of frustration on my cheeks, and a sad little smile of defeat. This should hopefully demonstrate what a wonderful husband he is. He did not laugh. He did not smirk. He did not tell me to get over it. He just smiled, gave me a kiss, and told me sometimes it just takes a while and that he was proud of me for doing it. Good man, don't you think?

Last night was our first PIO for this frozen cycle. And I was a little nervous but that first shot is always the hardest. And we had already done that. So last night was only about ten minutes of pacing and panicking and avoidance technique behavior before I got around to doing it. And I even was able to push the medicine down. We have victory, my friends. Yeah, I know. I'm not the first person to do PIO and I certainly won't be the last and many others have done this and so much more but it feels like such an accomplishment. Especially doing it myself. I wonder if I can learn to draw my own blood. Hmmm.

Never without drama

Okay, it's only minor drama. My lining was 13mm. But my E2 was only 24o. So I begin estradiol tablets tomorrow.

On a sweeter note though...

So back in July I went to go see my sister so Paul could bless her baby in church and just for a visit. It was a hard visit and I thought I was going to lose my mind, but alas I didn't. I ended up having a pretty good time after I got over the initial shock of being around my sister. I also ended up really bonding with my niece. I didn't know that I could feel such love for this perfect little baby. I digress.


Okay, so my sister calls me today just to chitchat and she asked me about my cycle. I told her that my transfer date is next Wednesday and she started squealing with excitement. She had to confirm that it meant that they were going to put the baby back inside of me on Wednesday but it's sweet to have her taking an interest in this process for me. So, we continued talking about my cycle and she was putting my niece Savannah to bed. She breaks our conversation and says to Savannah, "Okay, Savannah when you go to sleep tonight I want you to tell the angels that are watching over you to make sure to bring you a cousin...in a week." My heart just about melted. Her little pause before she added 'in a week' had me in stitches. But maybe you would have to be there.

Pretty sweet, huh? Well it gets better. My sisters husband, Jason can be a real turkey. He can be really obnoxious and he really rubbed me the wrong way at first but my mom just called me to tell me that my sister called her a few minutes ago, after she told Jason when my transfer would be. After Abby told him when it was going to be Jason announced to Abby that they were going to church on Sunday so they could pray for us that this cycle would work. I wonder if they know that you can actually pray outside of church. Abby told my mom that she was so impressed that Jason came up with that all on his own. She just kept reiterating that he wanted to do that all on his own.

Sometimes I wish I could divorce my family but sometimes they just make me melt.

finally! something to post about my cycle.

Well, I had another u/s today. And of course more bloodwork. Because this just wouldn't be fun anymore if we weren't able to do bloodwork all the freaking time. I went back to the same lab and again got the pokey girl. It's the main lab and there are some definite positives to attending this lab. One is we get the bloodwork back quite quickly. And as I wasn't able to get up there until after 2pm this was important to me. Besides, I was right there. But they are starting to know me. This can't be good. Well, the u/s went wonderfully. My lining is already 13mm thick. Woo hoo! We're looking for 7 or 8mm. Now, we're just hoping that my progesterone is low, low, low and for my E2 to be high, high, high. Well, greater than 300 anyway. I have been sleeping like crap the last few days and when my doctor came out and said hi to me he asked me how things were going. I told him that things were excellent and my uterus was at 13mm. He laughed and said he hoped not. He hoped my LINING was at 13mm. Right. I feel like a complete dork. I looked at him sheepishly and told him I only got 4 hours of sleep last night. Turns out that was all he got too. I guess I have no excuse.

You see this is why I don't believe in living near family

Oy! I'm not Jewish. Am I allowed to say oy?

We want to move. I have quite a small house and in a wildly optimistic move that this cycle is going to work I went and looked at new homes a couple of weeks ago. I rarely find a floor plan I like. I'm just a bit picky. I want a real entry way. I want all the bedrooms together. First floor masters and the rest of the bedrooms upstairs simply will not do. And a plethora of othIter obnoxious requests make me a rather picky customer. But I found one I liked. I really, really liked. It's 3000sf. Like I said, wildly optimistic. I thought Paul was going to tell me to dream on but he was kind of into a new house. Actually, really into it. I took him to see the house. And he loved it too. So we started talking seriously about moving. And the decision is in. If we can sell our house, we are going to do it. We are going to build a new house! Together. When we moved into our current house it was Paul's and we didn't pick it out together. This would be so much fun. But, as in much of the country the real estate market is less than desirable here. Which brings us to the family drama. Have I mentioned that my life parallels "everybody loves raymond"? Yes, indeed we live across the street from Paul's parents. Sigh. Which is the cause of 99% of all arguments that we experience. It's tough. We need more space. Now, a bit of information on the family tree. Paul has a half sister S that has a daughter J. J has procreated and lives with said bastard child and the boyfriend. I'm sorry for the judgment on the lack of marriage but when people make a clear choice to not be married I'm really all right with it. But this just seems like they don't care whether they're married or not. And I hate the attitude. Oh well. It's a bad infertility day. Please forgive me.

Ok so J, the kid, and the boyfriend are living in an apartment. Well, why live in apartment when you could live in a house? I deducted what the commissions would be and told Paul to call her and offer her the house. We'd have a quick sale and wouldn't lose any money. Seems like a good deal to me. She spoke about our proposition with her mother and her mothers response pissed me off. Sorry for the vulgarity. S called my FIL and said that we were insane for asking that amount for our cracker box house. Paul is the most upstanding, honest person I've ever met and for her to act as if we were ripping her daughter off got under my skin. Just a little bit. First off, our home is small but it has been perfect for us. It's got a huge lot. With five fruit trees. On a corner lot. A month ago Paul was offered a position at NASA in Houston. He ended up declining the position but while we were considering it I met with a realtor to discuss how much we could sell our home for. He suggested a significantly higher amount than we offered J the house for. I don't know why I am justifying my very nice home to you all. You didn't insult me. But still. She hurt my feelings. Oh well. I'm glad I don't have high expectations for this family thing only to be disappointed. We're hoping to be on the market by 1Oct. And this, my friends is why you should never mix family and money dealings. Or just move far away.