The last chapter...

For the inquiring minds: I tested this morning. I stared back at nothing. Not even a whisper of a line.

Please, do not tell me it's too early. It's not.

So this is what it feels like to really fail at something. To exhaust every path, to endure every last available technology.  To pump myself full of chemicals that have god knows what affect down the road.

Almost five years of misery. Five years of loss. Five years of chasing a dream only to come up empty.

Empty in mind, body, spirit, and finances.

No next step. No back up plan to the back up plan.

Just sadness, regret, and unbearable pain.

A swine Halloween

Swine flu or no swine flu, we managed to have Halloween here at the BagMomma house after all.

It's been a long week, and I am not lying when I tell you I had almost forgotten I had my FET last Tuesday. David being sick was all the diversion I needed.

Thankfully, the boy started feeling better at the end of the week, and was awake enough to put on his Halloween costume and venture out for a little while with Daddy while I stayed behind to give out candy.

He even stayed in costume when it got dark, and attempted to scare trick-or-treaters by standing still as a statue under the maple tree.

Now that the weekend is over, I guess I can start wondering if the lone embryo made it.

My first guess is a no, and I judge that only from extensive experience in the 2ww.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  I know my body quite well (even though I've grown to hate it).  There's no way I am pregnant.

Beta is on Friday, but I intend to test very soon just so I can get it over with.

*Sigh*

Yep, I just took the "Happy" out of Halloween.  Sorry about that.

I Want Candy

Day two of bedrest.

So with the incredibily suck-ass news yesterday, I forgot to update you all on the flu situation here at the house.

David, yes, is an H1N1 victim (as is a host of kids in his school). This morning, as I was sipping coffee and eating a peanut butter cup (don't judge me, the coffee was decaf, and the candy, well, wasn't.. it's Halloween week for goodness sakes so what better time to eat candy than 7:30am??)

I digress.

So, David is starting to feel better. He still has a fever, albeit a low-grade one now. He's out of school for the week, which means he misses all the Halloween parties so he's already guilting me into a toy from Target this weekend.

Meanwhile, S. and I have no symptoms. However, I began taking Tamiflu as a precaution (recommended because of my situation). Can I just tell you how EVIL Tamiflu is??? Tamiflu makes you feel like you HAVE the flu (minus the fever). What the hell hair-brained idiot thought that one up? I should have read the damn prescription dossier before I took it.

In any event, my goal is to stay healthy.

I cannot guarantee, however, that I will not consume the entire bag of peanut butter cups. I will attempt to balance it out with a salad or two, don't worry.

Thank you all for you kind comments and e-mails. It is because of you that I have any shred of humor left today.

I've decided to not think about what will happen if this doesn't work. Well, I know, sure.... it's a giant road sign that screams "THE END", but I figure I'll spend the next week pretending it's not there.

The Lone Ranger

My bad luck follows me like a stray dog.

They had to thaw all 7 remaining embryos, and of those, only ONE made it through the thaw.  My clinic has a 70% thaw rate.  There I go beating the crappy odds once again.

I'm disappointed, sad, and generally pissed off.

The one that made it is "extremely good quality", so says embryologist. I know it only takes one, but let's face it... the odds are already slim that an FET will work at all, and now I just decreased my odds even further.

My journey... it's so close to the end.

And now I have 48 hours of bedrest to ponder it over and over.

Dammit.

Down with the sickness

Because, really... could this week even be more drama and suspense filled?

Little D has the flu. His symptoms started last night and evolved into something closely resembling H1N1. They are treating it as that because, well... it's too early to be the seasonal flu, and he did have a regular flu shot a couple weeks ago. Process of elimination I suppose. S. took him to the doctor this morning for official diagnosis.

Half the town was there.

In speaking with the ped office and his school this morning, it seems Jersey went from the fewest cases of swine flu to a zillion in just the last week.

So far, S. and I are well. No symptoms for either of us. The house has been sanitized, and our hands are raw from repeated hand-washing.  I am waivering between concern for my son and concern for myself considering this is the WORST week for this to happen.  THE WORST.

I just want my baby to feel better.  And I want to not feel guilty for trying to keep my distance because of my own situation.

Transfer for my FET is tomorrow at 11am.

God-willing.

Breathe In...

Well, this FET cycle sure snuck up on me.

Lining check today and all is well.  Lining is a very cushy 13mm (which is way thicker than last time, I'm not sure if that makes a difference).  Bloodwork also came in right on target.

Transfer is Tuesday.

{Breathe Out}

Here we go again.

He did the Monster Mash

Going to the RE's office has become a death march of sorts. I can hear the music in my head as I walk from the parking lot to the door.

♫Duh, duh, da-duh, duh da duh-duh-duh-duh da-duh...♫

The waiting room has changed over the years. I really now feel like I've morphed into the "Norm" (Cheers, anyone?) of my clinic. I walk in and get the twenty questions game from my favorite staff and nurses. The newbies in the waiting room have that look on their face, as if they are thinking "egads, I hope I'm not here long enough for that kind of entrance..."

For me, the waiting room is always a step away from the worst moments of my life. And the exam room is always a reminder of the failures. I don't remember the zillion follie checks, just the ultrasounds where I got bad news. It is never a good day when you get bad news while you are spread-eagle on an exam table with the hootchie cam in place. It's a worse day when you have to go to the "Consult Room" immediately after an u/s.

That's where the monsters live...

I considered going to the "big-farther-away-office" to escape having to face that dreaded room I've grown to hate. But my new found devil-may-care attitude said, "screw it, let's just get on with it."

Check in hand for one complete FET cycle (ouch), consent forms ready, I went today for my suppression check.

All is well.

Dr. Nerd was present an accounted for. His usual geekiness was bearable when he exclaimed that we are "not done yet". "You put your trust in me to put a baby in your arms, and I am not stopping until I do."

Really doc? Because watch your words unless you plan on throwing a freebie DE cycle my way.

I guess this train has left the station (again). I'm not sure what I am feeling. Except to say the Lupron coursing through my body now gives me additional leverage to freak out and blame it on hormones once more.

No turning back now.

First Day Jitters

I don't know who was anticipating the first day of school more... me or David.

Anticipating, as in... nervous anticipation.

If you remember, last year I made the rookie Mom mistake of hanging around in the school hallway "just to see" how David was in his classroom. I peeked. As you also might remember, I caught him doing a very un-like David thing... silently crying (I call it the under-the-radar-big-boy-cry). Which made me cry.

To. this. day. my heart breaks when I think about it.

This year, my objective was a no-tears day. So we ushered him onto the bus and waved goodbye. Fifteen minutes later I met his bus at the school gym for the annual Parent Paparazzi event (picture a mass of parents with cameras). I distracted him as much as I could to keep his mind occupied and it worked.

The kids lined up by classroom, and 10 minutes later, he walked the same hallway to his NEW first grade room. This time- a wave and a smile.

No tears (well, not that I know of anyway). I did not follow.
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Today, first day jitters for me as well... of a different kind. Today is CD1 for my FET cycle. Well, you can call it CD1 just for posterity because there really isn't a first day in an FET, except to say the first day for the meds leading up to it.

Today I start 2 weeks of BCP's soon to add in the Lupron (which I just LOVE as you know). Transfer is set for October 27th. I got to pick the day.

Funny how easy it is to schedule an FET.

Far too easy.