Well....

It didn't work.

Thank you all for sticking with me through this. For now, I am taking a break from blogging to let it sink in.

Life is quite unfair. I should be used to this by now, but I have to tell you this cuts deeper than any failure I've had thus far. To be on the bad side of statistics again... I just can't bear it.

6dp5dt

I bet you hurriedly clicked over to this post thinking...

"OMG, has she tested yet??"

and the answer is NO.

To further disappoint my readers/friends/family and Peeveme, I've made a decision to not buy any pee sticks at all. I'm not even tempted.

Really.

Many of you have been commenting here and in e-mail saying how "disciplined" I am, and let me tell you... far from it. The operative word is FEAR.

That's right folks, FEAR. I am too afraid to test. If you know my history, you might understand. Six pregnancies, five miscarriages. For me, a BFP is merely the first step in what I like to affectionately call the "Pregnancy Obstacle Course from Hell", fraught with roadblocks, betas that look great but NOT!, and ultrasounds that feel like walking The Green Mile (for my Stephen King fans).

Symptoms? Yep, the are still here. Saturday was kind of a lull, but yesterday and today they are back. The trifecta: Cramping, low back pain, sore boo.bs

Strangely, if I weren't on enough meds to choke a cow, I would say.. "Yep! This is it." However I do know that progesterone can mock every pg symptom in the book.

I miss the days when I could get pregnant on my own... at least I knew when I was pregnant even before I reached for the pee stick. Yes, it's the upside of being pregnant so many times. I know too much for my own damn good.

I will give you one nugget of info that weighs on my mind. The feelings and symptoms I have this time (as compared to the failed IVF attempt last summer) are completely different... even taking the meds into consideration. What it means? I don't know.

Take from it what you will.

For my blogging friends that DO test before beta day, I salute you. You are a brave bunch.

I am a wuss.

3dp5dt

Symptom watch commences.

Yesterday, cramping all day. Last night I got out of bed because of the consistency of them.

This morning, ever so light spotting? Spotting is actually too large a word for it. It was a smudge no bigger than a pencil eraser point.

Sore chest? Check. (but I had that before transfer too).

All of these symptoms can be related to the progesterone. Or they could be related to something else.

Therein lies the rub.

No, I'm not testing early... are you crazy???

Monsters be GONE!

Day two of bedrest, and all is well.

In fact, it's outstanding at the moment.

I just got the call from the embryology lab that 7 (expanding and/or hatching) great quality blasts made it to freeze. SEVEN.

You know what that means right? The pressure is officially off.

I'm saved from having to look in that closet for quite awhile.

A pardon of epic proportions.

Take that, you mangy monsters!

Day 5

No transfer olympics THIS time!

Transfer was ridiculously easy. I almost couldn't believe it myself. In fact, it went so well S. and I didn't even realize they were finished. Dr. "Stevenson" and staff were ready for me, and man, did that pay off. I am so pleased.

Two blastocysts on board... grades 4BA and 3AA. Hello, my perfect lovelies... welcome to Casa Shelli.

May your stay be long and comfortable.

The Map to Paradise

I got another update from the clinic today. Wasn't even expecting one to tell you the truth, since the last time I spoke to the DC (donor coordinator) yesterday she said "no more updates.. see you at transfer!".

We now have 10 fighters ready to duke it out as leaders of the pack. I'm just so tickled pink to have anything approaching Day 5 as an honest to G-o-d blastocyst.

Anyway, I have to share a funny story, because it's always a joy to experience levity when you are about to make or break the rest of your life.

So who remembers the post I wrote about the worst transfer experience known to man (or me at least)? So if you weren't reading along back then- it was last August 2008, and I had the most uncomfortable transfer because I happen to have a cervix that is certifiably wonky. It has good and bad days, and on the WORST, loves to hide and generally be a pain in the ass. I cringed the entire time I was on the table. No valium either that day, and who knows if that transfer was the cause of my Swan Song cycle to fail... anyway...

In speaking with the IVF nurse who called to tell me about my embies, I asked who will be doing the transfer tomorrow (there are 4 RE's at my clinic). It happens NOT to be the doctor I had last time-- Dr. No, for those of you familiar with my RE's.

Now you might think, "Yeah!" BUT... it I love Dr. No. He was the man that did a blind HSG in under two minutes with my crazy cervix. Not to mention two trial transfers and a host of IUI's.

It was just a bad day--- that day last year. Dr. No took copious notes, and in my follow-up to failed IVF#1 he said... "I wrote a ton of notes, and if you have a future transfer, I will know exactly what to do, and how to get there! No worries!!"

Turns out the RE doing my transfer tomorrow is the RE I know least (but do like him what I know of him... he did my retrieval last year). Let's call him Dr. Stevenson... because he reminds me of a young Parker Stevenson (Hardy Boys... anyone??? Shaun Cassidy played his brother?)

I digress.

So I ask IVF Nurse to remind Dr. Stevenson to look at Dr. No's notes. I want to be VERY SURE that I am in NO PAIN and the transfer is as easy as possible.

Her response... was classic...

"oh yes! Dr. No's notes were extensive, and I already passed them onto Dr. Stevenson. He even drew a detailed MAP to your cervix."

Day 3

Well, here we are three days after retrieval, and we still have 13 embryos chugging along nicely. This is an auspicious occasion, in that this time last year with my own lackluster eggs, we transferred on Day 3 with so-so embryos and the remaining embryos arrested on Day 4. Yeah, that was memorable.

This time, with the donor, the embryos look great. And therefore, no rush to put them back until we can pick the cream of the crop on Day 5.

My appointment for transfer is Tuesday, 11:30am.

I am excited, and dare I say it? Hopeful... once again.

Another step closer...

You guys are awesome with your support, well-wishes, and prayers.

Keep them coming, because it's working!

Out of the 16 retrieved yesterday, we have 14 that fertilized normally. FOURTEEN!

The RE thinks we are making great headway to a 5-Day transfer (which could be Monday/Tuesday?)... the IVF nurses will be checking in with me daily reporting on progress. For now, I am surprised, pleased, and a wee bit happy.

Grow, embies, grow!!

Yes, why they DO have a flair for the dramatic...

What was it that I said in my post yesterday about RE's and their penchant for drama?

Brace yourself...

16 eggs!

Yeah. How did that happen???? OMG, I don't know and I don't care.

I got a little choked up driving to the RE with the swimmers tucked safely in my bra. My DNA won't be creating life today, but I would like to think that by carrying them close to my heart a little bit of me went with them.

Fertilization report tomorrow.

Squeeeeee!!!!!!!

Nothing Left To Lose

Well, we are still on for tomorrow morning.

It's hard to believe we are here. For years, I've been meaning to write a post about a song. This particular song sort of followed us after I had my 2nd miscarriage. You know... when there's that one song on the radio that always seems to find you at the most serendipitous moment? The one that makes you feel like you are in the right place at the right time?

I dedicate this song to my husband, S. because, well, the song's meaning is pretty on target for how I am feeling today.

I'll be back tomorrow with a post about the retrieval. Hopefully, they'll refrain from keeping me in too much suspense (those RE's love their drama). ;-)

Oh, and I did finish my letter to the donor this morning. And the words flowed perfectly.

Truth

Thank you all for your comments, and talking me down off that ledge yesterday.

And hello to my fellow ICLW'ers. You have happened upon my blog at a very emotional time. I'm not normally this crazy... really.

You know, I had pondered lying low for this cycle (in the blogosphere, anyway) but over the last few days I just have had so many emotions about this. They were just eating me from the inside out... and you might know this about me- writing is my therapy. Mainly, because I don't have the outlet IRL (well, except for S. and he's just sick of my rambling).

Speaking of S., I should note that he is my rock, but he is a fragile fellow when it comes to our infertility treatment. He worries more than I do, I know this... always has. I struggle to understand how I can help him when he's constantly worried about me. His feelings are deep, and judging by the fact that his cuticles are bloody today... he doesn't need to say much more than that.

I also am concerned about my IRL relationships, and the fact that some of them have been blown to bits because of my struggle. To some, I am an object of pity... which hurts me to the core. To some who cannot relate to my plight, the silence is equally as horrifying. When I think about moving on, I wonder if I will ever not be the subject of hushed conversations. I wonder if anyone will ever treat me like an equal again, not as the 24/7 fragile porcelain doll they perceive me to be. Constantly on my mind..? IRL readers equate reading this text as communication in lieu of having a real conversation with me. What I thought might be a good mode of communication ultimately backfires in that respect. My fault entirely, and unfortunately I can't put the genie back in that bottle.

Sure, I'd love to play this cool... (there are plenty of IF bloggers that can, and have successfully) but you all know me better than that. Yes, I'm worried sick that this won't work. Yes, this really is the last stop. If this fails, we are NOT pursing further treatment or renewing the adoption path. There's no monetary or emotional resources. More importantly, we want our life back.

I just had to say that. Because it's not just words thrown out there for dramatic effect.

It's my truth.

...

So, the new update for today: Donor's retrieval scheduled for 10am Thursday. Unless they push out again, which I sincerely doubt.

The plank just got shorter.

Update:

They got the donor's bloodwork back, and decided to push stims for one more day... so now we are looking at Thursday for retrieval.

The bad news (because I am so used to it by now)...

Only 8 follicles are making the cut right now. Eight. $%&%$#! Unfrickinbelievable. This from a young donor with proven fertility.

I am sick with worry. This could be over before it even begins.

Jack Sparrow has nothing on me...

I've been having a case of "bloggers block", but I know you all understand. Getting closer to the crux of this donor cycle is a little like walking the plank. Nothing at the end but a vast ocean of possibility.

All systems are go and the donor is triggering tomorrow for a Wednesday morning retrieval.

My job is simple.

Wait.

Law of Attraction

Had my lining check this morning, and things are looking great. Lining already at 9mm, so we've crossed into the safe zone from my end. Whew, one hurdle down.

And, yes. The nice nurses at my local clinic had an update on the donor when I arrived. She is responding well to stims and as of Stim Day 4, they are tracking 12 leaders (all around the same size of 10/11 for those interested), and a host of smaller ones that might still have time to catch up. Her bloodwork looks great.

Initially, I was kind of bummed to hear only twelve?? (I am a member on a DE board where donors are frequently are pumping out 20-30) but I have to remember that it's quality, not quantity.... right? I keep reminding myself that this a 26 year old with proven fertility.

(just more stuff to obsess about now!)

At this point, it's a safe bet that retrieval won't be over the weekend, but probably early next week. In the meantime, I'll be chewing my fingernails!

And, thinking positive.

I have a new mantra today... This WILL work. I repeated it in my head about a hundred times lying in bed last night. Universe are you listening???

Treading water?

Argh. It's hard to focus on writing a blog post today.

The waiting is killing me. I know if my DC was around, she would be calling and keeping me well-informed. The thing that mostly stresses me out is the fact that she noted that they will only call me if something "goes wrong" or the donor is ready to trigger, otherwise I am left to my own devices.

So you know I'm just hanging out here now NOT wanting the phone to ring for once (I won't be on trigger watch until the weekend... she won't stim THAT fast).

My lining check is Wednesday morning, so I am trying to hold off calling and wait for my in-person visit, because I can just ask one of the nurses to physically open the donor's file and tell me how many follies they are tracking, how her estrogen is, etc. The first half of stims is pretty boring anyway.

This is the worst part of knowing too much. I know exactly how things should go, hell, I can practically do the ultrasound measurements myself, and probably would have a good idea when to up the meds, when to coast, even when to cancel (nope, not saying that word).

That's crazy, I know. So I will hold out for my first inquiry until Wednesday.

On a slightly different topic, I am finally starting to pen my "thank you" note to the donor. I figured I would sit down, and the words would flow, but they are not. It's like one giant mental block.

Normally, I am a pretty open person.
Normally, I can always find the right words to say.
But not this time.

I decided to put it away and not devote another thought until the evening before retrieval.

It's so hard to even write that last sentence. To assume that we will get to retrieval. And getting to transfer??? fuggedaboutit!

I'm so afraid of being disappointed. I am fearful of that BAD luck catching up with me again. I know that anything is possible, I am just so used to failing that I have to PUSH myself to think forward. To be a person of optimism.

Damn, that used to come so easy to me- once upon a time...

"just keep swimming..." I see Dory from the movie "Finding Nemo" in my head, and I hear the voice of my BFF, Steph (she loves that line, sorta like her personal motto! but for this week, I am stealing it).

You think I'm crazy now? Wait until I GET to the 2WW.

heh.

Sort of like the first steep drop on a rollercoaster...

And so we begin...

Donor starts stims tomorrow. Her baseline appointment went great, and dare I say close to perfect.

The only downside? My DC is out on vacation all next week, so I will have to hunt down one of the IVF nurses for any updates while she's stimming. My DC knows I am a numbers obsessive gal, so she's already told the staff to expect my pestering calls. ...Who me? A pain in the @ss?

If things keep moving as they have been, donor will be triggering for retrieval next weekend (7/18-19ish).

Please cross your fingers and toes for me. I need the collective good thoughts/prayers from all of my friends.

Hands in the air!

Here we go.

Sparkly

Thanks guys for hanging with me on that last post. I think the appropriate word someone used in the comments was "panic", and yes that pretty much hits the nail on the head. As much as I am excited to finally get here, the anticipation of finally being here just reminds me how close I am to the end of it all.

I've been stewing on these emotions for the last two weeks, but this week it just reared it's ugly head to the forefront.

So what's new? Well, I started the estrogen (in pill AND patch form), and just counting down the days for the donor to start stimming on the 10th.

Man, was I EVER glad to knock down the Lupron injection... the headaches were a royal PITA. Made me grumpy too.

Or, perhaps the grumpy part came from running into two Moms from David's old school (gloriously pregnant with #2 and #4 respectively). They were talking about being sick and tired during their pregnancies, and all I could think was how I wanted to be in their shoes. I wished they knew how lucky they were. I put on my happy face and let them rattle on until I couldn't take it anymore, and excused myself to my car. Driving home, the whole way... all I felt was a large lump in my throat. I will not cry. I am so damn sick of crying.

Looking forward to the holiday weekend, although not a long or restful one for either of us.

S. has to work for some of it. I'm not off any extra days. I want to check out fireworks somewhere (last year if I remember correctly, I think it rained a bit and we missed them).

Fireworks make me happy. I think I even have a few boxes of sparklers somewhere that I picked up out of state (NJ says NO! to fireworks... freaking buzzkillers). Yes, I know they are dangerous... (funny how when I was a kid no one thought they were dangerous at all) but again, they make me happy.

I have such fond memories of running around the backyard with two sparklers in each hand... wishing they could stay lit forever.

So what are you doing this weekend?

The Monster in the closet

This post has been brewing for awhile now- the draft locked in my head wanting to finally be documented to make room for other thoughts.
...
I had a dream, not long after the drama in March after Donor#1 failed. I thought it was just the stress talking, a way for my mind to reset...

In my dream I was putting together a scrapbook, all lovely pictures of me, S., and David. As I turned the page there was a blank page just begging for photos. I reached into the pile of photos that remained on my desk.

The first thing that was seemed off was that each picture was black and white. I remember thinking "how odd" but when I looked closer to visually inspect them I noticed there were no people in any of the pictures. They were scenes familiar to me... our backyard, the beach, my family room.

But no people. I became frantic looking for pictures that had anyone I knew in them. But the pile seemed endless, and one after another, each picture was curiously absent of living things. Not even the cats.

I remember having the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach, so in my dream I ran to the two people closest to me looking for an answer. I glided into my kitchen, and S. and David were eating eggs. The table was set for six. But they seemed sad, and again I found that the color in my dream had vanished to a dark grey.

And then the dream ended.

I woke up in tears, and my first instinct was to reach over to S. to ensure he was there, and then I walked off to David's room to check on him. He was sleeping of course. But I sat down in the rocking chair next to his bed and replayed that dream in my head... looking for meaning.

And so began those terrible thoughts in my head after that night.

What is to become of me if this cycle doesn't work???

This is it. This is the last stop in my journey. There is no more after this. No more injections, no more tests, no more doctors visits. No more loans on top of loans. No more planning around a 28 day calendar.

How will I ever become whole again when I've been carrying around years of disappointment and loss like a monkey on my back?

I've been trying to shove these thoughts from my head. "Worry about that when the time comes.." I say to myself.

But each morning it is the first thing on my mind when I awake.

...and it is the last thing I think about when I lie down to sleep.

It's the monster in the closet, behind the door I don't dare open. What is to become of me when I have to turn that doorknob? It's almost like being told you are going to die, but instead of not knowing when.. you have a date.

Because very soon ...I will know.

Heady Thoughts

It's Friday, I am up to my ears in work, and the same headache I went to bed with? Yep, it's still hanging around. I'd love to blame it entirely on the medication, but it's also the witching hour before AF is due (migrane city).

Double trouble as far as I am concerned.

The good news today? The donor got her meds. Case closed on that drama.

Hmmmmm.... this cycle is really going to happen I think.

The fall of civilization

Well, I took my last BCP yesterday. Just waiting for AF to show. I'll be happy to back off the Lupron a little bit. I've been having hot flashes at night. The headaches, not so bad as long as I keep hydrated.

The donor meds saga was resolved, but not without a minor freakout yesterday that all my work to date was for nothing when ONCE AGAIN a customer service person thought I was paying cash. Thank goodness for my new friend at the other specialty pharmacy who reminded me to remain calm, and then called the OTHER pharmacy to remind them of my insurance details. Ugh, such horrible communication between these insurance agencies.

Anyway, when it rains it pours. Husband and I recently changed over our phone service to the MASTER MONOPOLY CABLE PROVIDER in PA/NJ (we already had internet and digital cable with them), and man, they screwed us big time with our bill. In addition, our phones still aren't working correctly since the initial install. S. has been in charge of that big 'ole mess, and last night just went ballistic on the customer service folks. We call with a service problem that's been ongoing for two weeks AND a bill issue... and what do they do?? They try to freaking up sell us on another one of their worthless features!! Arghhhh! Are you kidding me??

All of my complaints this week are directly related to the US Economy, I suppose. Is is me, or are all of you feeling like you have to fight with service providers more than you used to? I have to be honest, I feel like I have another full-time job just dealing with money-obsessed companies.

What's next? Will my favorite donut shop start not filling my coffee cup to the top to save a penny?

Oh, nevermind. I don't want to go there. That's too traumatic to think about.