Musings of a Hormonal Egg Basket

No and it is OK.

2012-02-15T06:43:00.000-08:00

I should have known. I always did know. It is OK. It was hard not to hope though. My period wasn't late, but man I did not feel good. Turns out a crazy stomach bug was taking over Virginia (and other states to be sure) and I took over my stomach for a very long weekend.

I'm not pregnant.

I was super suspicious that I was though. Waking up nauseous is always a sign we cling to. My level of exhaustion was at astronomical levels. Losing 7 pounds over a weekend should have pointed more to the stomach flu, but every morning that I woke up nauseous and every night when I threw up, I would look at my husband and say "Could it be?"

Nope.

I know better. I know it took 6 years to have our beautiful son. I know I laughed when my mom said "maybe it is all the running you are doing?" Nope, my 2012 New Year's Resolution to run a 10K is not the cause of my past 6 years of infertility. And then there was the part of me that felt tremendous sadness about the 5 frozen embies we have. If I was, by some major miracle, pregnant naturally, what would become of my frozen embies? All of a sudden I missed them and the potential they hold.

I'm so curious about them. It is easy to talk about them in a medical sense. If we decide to do a frozen cycle, they will all be thawed, watched and then the best will be transferred in another IVF cycle. If possible, remaining good ones will be refrozen for another attempt. I know medically what will happen to them. But emotionally I look at my son, who will be a year(!) old next week, and I wonder about his siblings. His siblings that I guess could be considered twins in a way, all put together on the same day. He was chosen, the others frozen and waiting. I miss them. I long for them. Or her? Or him? There is no way to know if one or three or all five would survive the thaw. Would it attach? Would I carry another miracle full term? Can I be the mother of two? Could I be so lucky? Could I be more arrogant that these embies are just waiting for me to say, "Ok. Now."? That I can just snap my fingers and pick a date and stick my feet in the stirrups and get pregnant.

I know it doesn't work that way. That $4,000 for a frozen cycle just buys me a chance. That 5 frozen embies means nothing if they don't make it. IVF was so hard. I know a frozen cycle is easier, but it is still hard. It is hard to stab yourself in the leg or the abdomen or the butt every day. It is hard to open your fridge and see stacks of drugs staring you in the face when you just want some orange juice. It scares me to start that process up again. To stare face to face with a box of drugs knowing that you will use almost everything in there. All the supplies are for you and for you alone. Even if C holds my hand or even plunges the needle, it is still going into my leg. The hormones, the exhaustion, the frustration and even the anger. I'm worried about how that goes during a frozen cycle. Is it easier or harder to know that if it doesn't work, that this is it? I know I don't have it in me for another fresh cycle. If we can't get pregnant with the embies we have, we are all done.

I'm so curious about those embies. They hold our future in their frozen cocoons.

We can't help but wonder

2012-02-05T17:38:00.000-08:00

Hope.

Pray.

Plead.

Friday morning started like any other. C was already long at work when N woke up to start our day. We had breakfast and played in the den and when he went down for a nap, I headed to the laundry room to finish up a load. All of a sudden I felt an overwhelming urge to lay down and/or throw up. As I laid on the couch, hoping that N would stay asleep until my husband got home, I rocked back and forth under our biggest blanket fighting back chills and willing myself not to throw up. It lasted for hours.

C got home and saw me huddled under a blanket and started what would be his weekend of taking care of me, N and the house. 7pm rolled around and although I hadn't eaten much more than a few bites of soup, I felt the overwhelming urge to vomit and jumped over baby toys and scrambled up the den stairs to just barely make it to the toilet. Admittedly, I felt a little better after that, but still physically exhausted and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, first on the couch and then in our bed.

I woke up early with the boys Saturday morning and still felt weak and vomity, but I wanted to help and got up to change our boy while C got a bottle ready. As soon as I got the diaper off, the overwhelming urge to throw up came over me and I yelled for C as I booked to the bathroom. I spent Saturday much like Friday, tossing and turning on the couch while trying to eat bites of toast and ice pops.

C was awesome and ran errands with N and took care of everything we both needed. It reminded me of how often he stepped right up during our years of infertility when I just couldn't do it.

By Saturday night, I was feeling slightly better and was able to sleep without all the tossing (neither my body nor my cookies). I spent the day today alternating short bouts of energy with moments of sheer exhaustion and a weak stomach. By the end of today, it was hard to tell if my nausea was from a stomach bug or from the fact that I hadn't eaten since Friday morning or...

it couldn't be pregnancy? Could it? Is it just too much to hope for? Am I being silly? Naive?

The Sleep.ys Mattress commercial made me cry twice today. So did the end of Defending Your Life this afternoon. And Innerspace (sick days mean lots of movie watching). And right now, Cary El.wes horrible accent on Law and Order SVU is making me want to cry.

It is possible. My period is not late yet, but the timing would be right. Why does it always happen like that? Just vague enough to give us hope.

Smiling Through Clenched Teeth

2012-01-16T11:00:00.000-08:00

Here is that post where I talk about a younger cousin who just announced her second pregnancy.

It is that gut punch of an announcement that would have brought me to tears a year and a half ago and now just brings me to a stomachache. It is that half sad, and a little bigger half jealous and frustrated ache. Especially over the fact that my chance at #2 involves $4,000 and enormous amounts of stress and pain.

The announcement came over the phone via the family grapevine and the ease of the telling of the news made me feel like she just snapped her fingers and got pregnant, which may or may not be the case. Either way, the green monster showed up in me as quickly as I could muster the words, "good for her!"

That stomachache lingers as I wish her a happy and healthy pregnancy. That stomachache lingers as I think about my challenges for something that seemed to come so very easy for her. That stomachache lingers as I wonder if I'll ever make that announcement and that stomachache lingers as I think about all the women that are still trying for #1.

It was that same, so familiar ache as my period showed up on Saturday, crushing yet again our hopes for a natural, surprise pregnancy. Just when I thought I came to terms with that red stripe on the toilet paper signaling another failed cycle, the gut punching and stomachaches start again as more friends and family announce that #2, or even #3 is on the way.

I hate this. I hate IF, but at the same time, IF brought me N. And he is the greatest person I ever grew.

P.S. I'm still running. Week 3 of training. The 10K is coming up FAST and I'm going to train today (maybe now is a good time). It could be just the thing I need.

New sneakers and a 5 dollar app do not a runner make

2012-01-05T17:46:00.001-08:00

But, it's a start. Tonight C and I decided to sign up for our local city's 10K coming up at the end of March. The idea of running a 10K is daunting to be sure, but the occasional zum.ba class is just not doing much for my jiggle.

So, with my new sneakers on my feet and my iPh.one in my pocket I stepped on the treadmill and started up the couch to 10K app...

Now of course, after not taking more than a handful of zum.ba classes since N was born, I was feeling more than a little awkward on the treadmill. I promptly knocked my water bottle on the floor trying to put it in the cup holder and yanked the earbuds out of my ear trying to adjust my music. And just when I was feeling most aware of my various body parts flopping around me, the skinniest, tannest, most short short wearing Runner got on the treadmill next to me.

Of course.

But, I pressed on and ignored the Runner and her pace that doubled mine at my fastest. I finished the first day of training and I'm feeling pretty good. A little achy, a little tired, pretty hungry, but feeling good about what I am trying to do for my body. I'm doing it for a few reasons.

First, I totally miss my pre-IVF body. You know the one, where I thought was overweight when I weighed 40 lbs less than I do now. I want to do this for my DH, to have extra energy for him after a day chasing N. I need the energy and flexibility and strength to chase N since every day he gets stronger and faster and more motivated to break down the barriers that we have in place. And now, after a call to my IVF coordinator, I need the energy to gear up for a frozen transfer later this spring.

N will be the most amazing older brother. C and I believe we are not done growing our family and with 5 frozen embies my heart overflows with the thought that we really could bring home another beautiful baby. It is my head that overflowed with all the emotions that come with starting this process all over again.

This is why the 10K seems like a great idea. Another mountain to climb, but this one is all for me. To cross a new finish line and get ready to start another race.

And then it came to me...

2012-01-01T18:17:00.000-08:00

My New Years resolution came to me yesterday.

Have you ever seen Geor.ge Carl.in's Stuff routine? I found myself watching it the other day and while I definitely get why it is funny and certainly the audience is laughing, this time I felt uncomfortable. I have too much stuff. We all have too much stuff. Stuff. Even the word was bugging me.

I want less stuff. I want to be in control of the stuff I have. And I don't want to bring in any new stuff until my old stuff is taken care of.

The New Normal?

2011-11-28T02:46:00.001-08:00

My blog has never been so much about my son as it is about me and infertility, then pregnancy and then motherhood and all the emotions that go with it. But, this post is a little different as it is about a little boy who turned 9 months old this week and turned into a, well...here is what happened:

By about 8 months old, little N was a crawling machine and we knew that it was time to get the house baby proof. We did a few little projects which we thought was enough to protect the man and keep cleaning protects and electronics out of his reach. We thought that was enough and life went along fairly normal.

Turns out this Thanks.giving we woke up to a mouse in the house! As C tried to catch it and restore our home to a mouse free environment, I worked to keep N away from traps and the general den area until we could get things cleaned up. In an effort to keep him safe we let him play in another room, one where I had done a project with a staple gun months ago. Since we are often in there, and I had run a vacuum at least a dozen times since my project, I never thought there might be hazards in the form of a few stray staples.

Of course, in the span of 5 minutes of crawling around supervised, N looks up at us with a little shiny thing hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Immediately, we jump up and find that it is indeed a staple and then see a few more on the carpet. The immediate thought is How Many Did He Eat?? When you think about it, it seemed unlikely that he would have swallowed a staple and not coughed or cried or otherwise let us know, but since 9 month olds are not great at communicating, the general consensus was to take him to the emergency room.

After my baby's first x-ray and the swallow test, he got the all clear and we came back home. We were slightly shaken but grateful all was just fine. And after vowing to keep the house even cleaner, life went back to normal.

Normal lasted one day. We have family in town and had everybody over for lunch yesterday. While my SIL and I sat on the floor and talked, N was playing happily in the corner of his bedroom. All of a sudden, he started making a gagging noise and it was clear something was wrong. We jumped up and saw that he had gotten his hands on some cardboard and bit a couple chunks out of the corner. He could breathe, but he was not happy about the cardboard sandwich that he couldn't seem to get out of his mouth.

I was able to stick my finger in his mouth to find the cardboard and triggered his gag reflex, which made him throw up all over himself and my hand and trickle onto the carpet. My sweet SIL got the tub ready and we got N all cleaned up and happy again.

After this, I actually felt pretty confident in my mothering skills. As it is something that I only have 9 months experience with, it felt good to have a problem and jump up and take care of it. After the crazy week, we all came out the other side just fine. After my family left, and N was safely tucked into his bed for the night, I told my best friend over a text about all the chaos.

My best friend is a woman I admire for her no nonsense attitude. She was always the tough one while I was more sensitive and we seemed to fill in where the other was lacking. It has been that was since 10th grade and even though I have moved away, we stay in touch with daily emails and texts and regular calls.

I told her about the chaos, looking and maybe expecting some praise for my excellent mothering skills, some commiseration about the trouble little boys get into (she has a 2 year old son) and a good laugh about how we are in for years of this type of thing...instead, I got a "you shouldn't have stuck your finger down his throat, you could have pushed the cardboard down further." This stung for a few reasons. First, it was not what I expected her to say and second, it made me second-guess my instincts. That sucked. I was proud of my instincts and with one sentence a person that was close to me was able to make me doubt myself. I never responded back to her text.

We took the baby CPR class back when I was pregnant and have the choking chart hanging up in the cabinet by the kitchen phone. I do my best to try and find the happy medium between keeping N safe and letting him explore. I puree everything he eats and don't rush him with more solids like bread and cheerios (even though my Mom thinks I should be giving it to him by now...reserved for another blog post). I still find myself reaching out to make sure he is breathing while he sleeps, just like I did when he was a newborn. I love my baby and the thought that I might have hurt him by trying to help him is making my eyes well up while I am typing this. My best is good enough, right?

He is only 9 months old. I have years of this to go. I don't want to doubt myself. My instincts have gotten me this far. I did the right thing. Why am I so sensitive about something that turned out just fine in the end? What happens next time? I don't want to hesitate and second-guess myself when the next thing happens.

I'm still not sure how to respond to my friend. I may just gloss over what she said and move on. My DH said he was good with what happened and how I reacted. He made the point that maybe we have to make more of a childproofing effort. I agree. Part of me wants to tell my mom what happened, just to hear that she thinks I did good. But, if she goes the way of my friend, I think that might make me more upset. My SIL stayed as calm as me. N is fine, maybe some extra roughage in his diaper today. If this situation happened again, I would do the exact same thing. Where can I find the confidence to trust myself and not look for validation from others?

Still human

2011-11-23T18:10:00.000-08:00

So, I'm feeling like my last couple of posts have been kind of sad. A little edgy too. And in all honesty, it is not a great representation of how I am feeling the majority of the time. I wake up with a full heart, happy to change the diaper of the smiliest baby I could ever be so lucky to have. I cuddle his warm body, vowing to always remember how his soft, cubby thighs feel when I am holding him and how he never hesitates to try to dive headfirst off my lap when he finishes his bottle. I'm so grateful for how sweet natured he is. When he was born, the nurses called him a cuddle bug. My MIL said she just got the feeling he was going to take everything in stride. How, without fail, someone will tell me how he made their day or go out of their way to want to interact with my happy boy. I don't mean to sound braggy. I'm in Love.

I'm still human too though and I much prefer my son's 8am wake up cry to his 6am (or even 4am...) wake up calls. I'm smiling at him through squinty eyes every morning until I can get one or two cups of coffee pumping through my veins. I get concerned with my own energy level and how if I'm tired now and he isn't even walking yet, how on earth am I going to keep up with a toddler? I'm concerned about all the Hersh.ey's nuggets I have eaten in the last few days and stressed that I can't seem to find the motivation to keep my good eating plan on track.

I am very aware that my sensitivity meter is way up. I firmly believe I have less room in my brain for some of the things I used to worry about, but I also feel like I'm extra sensitive to dramatic stories about strangers or even fictional characters. Sometimes shows feel too real, laugh tracks feel too loud, and stories about real people are too stressful to hear. My mom was telling me a story about something she saw on tv (like that show, "I Shouldn't Be Alive" or something) and I could almost feel my breath getting short, like I was running out of air and wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. What is that feeling? I never acknowledged it out loud, but I wondered if they could tell that I felt that way. I remember feeling a little bit like that when I was a kid (worrying when the kid in a sitcom would do something bad, almost like I was somehow responsible), but this feels very amplified.

I saw a therapist years ago who was very helpful and I feel like this is a good time to get that going again. I don't feel the same desperation for help that I did back then, but I recognize how much it helped me then and that it can help me now. I worry that I won't find someone who I liked as much as my old therapist (I've moved out of state since then) and I need to find the time and energy to get something set up.

I am not quite ready to get into how I am feeling about the possibility of another round of IVF for baby #2. I do know I'm not quite up for another fresh cycle, nor do we have anything close to the money for a fresh round, but with 5 frozen embies, maybe I won't have to. The hope was that we would take this fall/winter to try on our own, maybe we would be surprised. Not yet.

Getting all this down feels good. I've got a lot on my mind and now I feel like I freed up a little more space in my brain. That is some very valuable space. I think I am going to fill it with a little watercolor before bed.

Thanksgiving tomorrow. Gratefulness abounds and a smiley boy awaits.

Thinking of the next few months

2011-10-31T05:43:00.000-07:00

The holiday season is always a bundle of mixed emotions for me. When I was a kid, our family didn't have huge traditions, but the ones we had were special and sweet. As a newlywed, holidays were wonderful opportunities to celebrate three Thanksgivings and Christmases traveling up and down the east coast to be with the ones we love. As an infertile, it was a time to hide out and stay low key. To skip the pitying faces and kids screaming with glee. It was also a time to be in the stirrups. Thanksgiving 2009, I'm talking to you.

And now, with an 8(!) month old, holidays feel a little overwhelming. There is some guilt I feel about wanting to start our own traditions here at home. We want our son's first Christmas to be all about him waking up early and finding his stocking full and cinnamon buns in the oven. Fire burning in the fireplace and feetie pajamas keeping him warm. That picture makes me so happy, since it is a picture I have been dreaming of for years. The guilt comes in with relatives who aren't able (willing?) to come our way to celebrate with us. Should we head up their way? Should we sacrifice our vision and dream so everyone can be together?

As anonymous as my blog is, I still feel like I am being very vague and so this is not necessarily me asking for advice as much as it is me venting.

I would love to wake up with C and N and run down the stairs to see a beautiful tree and Christmas the way I always wanted it to be. I want to have a beautiful dinner with an open door to whatever family is nearby. I want those things, but I grew up in a house where really only immediate family were welcome. I want to be more open than the way my own mom was, but the bigger the group the more stressed I get. I say that I want a big house full of people, but by the middle of it, I am tired and overwhelmed and stressed and guilty. Maybe those relatives can sense it, maybe that is why they don't want to come this year. Maybe it is my fault. When everybody else is annoying, the annoying one is You, right?

I know it is not really the case. We are the ones who moved 7 (at best) hours away. We are the ones asking people in their mid-60's to come down to us. I have always tried my best to make a warm and cozy home, with plenty of food and pillows and activities for people who can be challenging to please. I have tried to put my best face forward, even when infertility or pregnancy exhausted me to the point of wanting to run upstairs and hide under the covers. I'm always the one who takes the stress and pain of everyone around me and holds it in my heart. If there is a lull in conversation, I jump to try to fill it, if something doesn't go right, I take it pretty personally. It gets exhausting.

This is not what I want for our son. I want his holidays to be light and bright, warm and fuzzy. I don't want him to be responsible for everyone's happiness. It is not up to him to make sure everyone is happy. If they don't want to come, they don't have to come. Our door is open either way.

About looking like a grown up and feeling like a kid...

2011-10-01T19:55:00.000-07:00

Or, when your insides don't match your outsides. Or something like that.

C, Baby N and I went to an acquaintances son's (4 years old) birthday party tonight. Since I haven't been to very many of those, I think it was pretty typical. Fun enough, but mostly watching the kids playing and attempting to make conversation with people we just met.

It was a nice night, but on our way home, as baby N slept in the car seat and C and I recapped the party we realized we had very similar experiences. We knew the hosts of the party through C's job, but pretty much everyone else was a stranger, friendly enough, but still strangers. We had each attempted conversations and jokes, some worked and some fell flat, but no matter the outcome we both found ourselves struggling with what does or should(?) come naturally to most people. Just the art of small talk. Maybe we need to take a class? Or maybe we just need to get out and be more social?

We laughed when we realized maybe we spend too much time with family in that we were disappointed when people gave Baby N a quick smile and wave instead of the endless hugs and kisses and glowing compliments that he gets from our extended families. There was a sense of "why aren't you gushing about how awesome my baby is??". That seems kind of silly to type out right now, but it is what it is. We got so used to our families gushing with little to no effort on our part that to us, this felt like a little letdown. Don't get me wrong, everyone was nice. It is just that so many times in public my insides feel 12 years old, even though my outward gray rooted appearance says 35 and this party was no different.

I sometimes carry baby N on my hip and when I see someone else doing that, I wonder if I look as grown up as they do.

I wonder if I will ever feel as grown up as I look. Do those two things ever catch up with each other?

About friends...

2011-08-16T18:25:00.000-07:00

Moving + not having a job = not too many friends for me. I have been feeling like I need something more for myself for a while now. My sweet N is the greatest, but C has been working crazy hours and I feel a little nuts after spending long periods of time talking to myself or talking to a little boy who can't talk back. My parents are the next closest and while they are great people who only want the best for me, it gets exhausting because I feel a little like I have three kids to take care of when they are over (they are both in their late 60's and have some minor medical issues).

I need someone closer to my age who is going through similar things. I may have found that tonight, but I feel like it has been so long since I really talked to someone I would like to build a friendship with that I keep replaying and picking apart our 10 minute chat in my mind.

I was in the baby section of Tar.get and quickly bonded with someone over our glee that formula was on sale this week. She mentioned that she has an 8 month old boy (only 2 months older than mine) and that we live in the same town (so our boys would likely be in the same class when they start school).

She was sweet and open and the whole time we talked I felt like my desperation to have a friend was so obvious. I suggested we get coffee sometime and we exchanged email addresses. I don't know what will come of our meeting. Sometimes your life crosses paths with someone and it is not meant to be anything more than a fleeting moment. Or, we could have a nice friendship.

I hope it is the latter. I need a friend.

About anger...

2011-08-07T07:26:00.001-07:00

When I wrote that last post, I had no idea I would have an opportunity just a few days later to put it into action. Without going into a whole bunch of detail, family (inlaws) have been in town for a few days. C has a new work schedule and wasn't available at the moment my protective mom arms reached out and took care of a situation.

For something as simple as my feeling like the television was way too loud for the little baby ears working some time in the bouncy seat and I requested a reasonable volume, it escalated into frustration and anger from all sides. I felt alone in my battle and trapped in my house. I don't think I have ever felt so angry in my 35 years on this planet.

I come from a family of throwers, never throwing things at people, but there are a few of us who have been known to throw a book or a box or a plate (or a vacuum, Grandma!) in anger and frustration. I threw my cell phone (and broke the case). Baby N was well out of way of any yelling or throwing, in fact, happily bouncing away in another room oblivious to anything other than a happy hippo hanging off what we call the "bouncy house".

I was furious and furiously trying to find a place to put my feelings. I started making food for DH's overnight work shift and got halfway through before I started pacing again. If it was possible for smoke to come out of the top of my head, it would have poured out and set the fire alarm off. I paced for 20 minutes white knuckling what was left of my cell phone case.

When half of my problem went up to bed, I approached the other half in the hopes for a reasonable discussion. My sweet boy still needed one more bottle before bed, but he was still happy in the seat, so I took the opportunity to try to clear the air. I'm one who has trouble sleeping until a problem is resolved.

I feel like I am being a little lame withholding details, so hopefully this is not too confusing to follow, I just wanted to get it off my chest.

Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on the kind of person you are), one of my inlaws is a therapist. With my body at the full capacity for stress and frustration, I approached my inlaw who helped me slowly unclench and talk out the situation. And after 2 and a half hours, I was feeling a little better, although puffy eyed (still) and headachy.

I slept pretty good. Have had a great morning with my baby boy and C is back from his overnight shift. I still haven't spoken to the other half of the conflict and I'm not sure if it will be discussed any further or we will just magically move past it.

I don't have a problem with magically moving past it, but I want to clear the air if it could save the weekend and help for any future situations. I strive to be someone who can learn from my experience.

I have said it before, but I want my son to grow up in a house where he feels comfortable saying what he needs, expressing his feelings without fear of the consequence or judgement and live in a house where he feels secure.

Changing

2011-08-04T20:30:00.001-07:00

diapers in the back seat of my car in the 98 degree heat of summer is brutal. But, then my little guy smiles at me as he sticks his little heel in the poopy diaper that I haven't moved out of the way fast enough and I laugh and I remember worrying that I would never experience this. To be honest, I never really pictured myself changing a diaper in the back seat of my car, or on a folding chair in the bathroom of my car dealer or on a big flat rock at the river's edge. But I have and I do and I laugh.

IVF gave me a little edge. It took away some of my modesty and shyness. But, it gave me the strength to be a mom now. The kind of mom who does what she has to do. IVF makes you do what you have to do, stick a needle in your own thigh in the bathroom at work, put your legs up in stirrups for a room full of doctors and nurses and take hormones that bring you to the brink of edginess and tears and then push you right over.

And now, the things I have to do are not as physically painful, but they require new effort on my part. If I have questions about my sweet boy, I have to be proactive (even more than I am for myself) to get my questions answered and "take care of business" as my Dad would say. I am extra aware of my surroundings and if someone is yelling or smoking (for example), I need to be strong enough to get my baby out of there and either say something or just get up and move. It is not that I wouldn't have done those things to protect myself, it is just different with my baby because it feels more urgent and I feel more protective (of course, the new goal is not to become over-protective....but that is another story).

Blogging has been taking a back seat lately, but life has been equally joyful and exhausting. I have been finding tiny moments to pluck my eyebrows and catch up on emails and even think about something other than changing diapers and washing bottles. Working on my hobbies still doesn't last more than 20 minutes at a time, but I'll take what I can get.

Talking to Myself

2011-06-11T20:50:00.001-07:00

Talking to myself has long been a habit of mine. Especially while driving in my car. Years ago, I had a long commute and used the time to work things out while talking out loud. It was my own brand of therapy.

Now that 3 and 1/2 months have gone by since my sweet boy was born, I continue to get flashes of myself and my own needs coming into focus. Like back in April (my last post), I all of a sudden felt frumpy and gross. I needed an overhaul and took care of it. I got my teeth cleaned, my hair cut and colored and started going back to the gym, I even found a pretty top that made me look good while still hiding the belly jiggle. It was nice to wear something new that wasn't a stretched out maternity top.

Then, at the end of May I realized it was time to get my weight back down for good, and I wanted not only to be my pre-pregnancy weight, but I really wanted to be my pre-IVF weight. Which meant I had about 50 pounds to lose. 22 to get back down to pre-pregnancy, plus 30 to get down to my favorite weight (the one where I felt great and got lots of compliments). It is funny to be pregnant and everybody tells you how great you look as you continue to expand...now that I'm not pregnant anymore, those compliments have stopped for obvious reasons.

So, I started (not a diet) but a way of life change in my eating habits. Sugar is OUT. No more sugar in my coffee (I'm getting used to it), no more maple syrup in my oatmeal (dried apples cut up instead for a touch of sweetness) and no more ice cream on the regular. Dark chocolate (70%) is a decent substitute when I need something sweet. No more white bread, rice and pasta (substituting rye bread, quinoa and lots of fruit, veggies and nuts). So far I am down 7 pounds! I know that the weight loss will slow down, but I already feel so much better and while I can't get to the gym as much as I would like (and taking my boy for walks in 100 degree heat is not my idea of a good time), I do feel really good about eating so much better. Lifting a 14 pound baby and going up and down the stairs 16 times a day works as exercise for now.

And now that my physical self is getting back on track (although I still have 43 more pounds to lose, my hair could use a touch up already and my belly could use about a million more sit ups...) I realized yesterday, while talking to myself in the car, that I needed something else. I look at my beautiful son and love taking care of him, but I don't want Mom to be my sole definition. I don't want to be boring to him. I want him to look at me and think that I am awesome (for more reasons than I am the one who keeps him clean and gives him food).

And so, now I am figuring out what else rounds me out as a person. I was just saying to my parents that lately I feel like I am running in circles. Most days, I can just seem to get the bare minimum done; taking care of my son, empty the dishwasher, start dinner and maybe I get a shower. On a good day, I can take care of my son, empty the dishwasher, start dinner, take a shower and maybe do the laundry. Most everyday, I look at the clock and am shocked that it is already 9pm and I can't seem to account for what I did all day. I realize this comes with the territory of having and infant and that it will get easier, but as I work on getting myself back together, I see that this is another area that needs help.

My hubby is understanding and takes over for a few hours when he comes home from work, so I can get a little break, my closest friends with kids live about a days drive away, but their phone support does help too. I am finding lately that my mom, who tries to be supportive, isn't very helpful lately. She doesn't seem to want to hear struggle or bad news from me. She even went so far as to suggest that I had ADHD (which is not the case) and said that she noticed that she could hear in my voice that my hormones were back (I had told her a few days prior that my period was back). I might be wrong, but I honestly felt like I heard a little disappointment in her voice, that the happy cloud of oblivion I was living in since I had my son, was dissipating and real life was starting to kick back in. She was trying to make excuses for why I felt like I was running in circles instead of just listening and offering helpful suggestions, which is all I was looking for.

I don't want my son to grow up in a house where he can't express himself when he is angry or sad or frustrated. I want to be the best mother I can to him and right now, I am working very hard on being honest with my own needs and wants, so I can be an inspiration to him and to myself.

Taking care of myself

2011-04-27T19:59:00.001-07:00

Oh yeah. I forgot to do that. It was so easy to forget. To rather spend the time taking care of my baby. To sleep. To make dinner. To just get through the day.

Then I caught a look at myself in the mirror.

Black maternity shirt all stretched out and hanging off me.

Dull skin and tea stained teeth.

The eyebrows of my youth (before Mom taught me about plucking) slowing earning back their caterpillar status.

Ratty, frizzy hair streaked with more grays than ever before.

I realized all I needed was a black, pointy hat and my Hallo.ween wi.tch costume would be complete.

After two months of taking care of my sweet, smiley boy I caught a glimmer of the woman I left behind and I missed her.

It is time to take some time for me.

Well Padded

2011-03-25T20:27:00.000-07:00

File this under things nobody tells you...

Amazingly, Wednesday marked the one month birthday of our amazing little boy! One month already. And here I thought my pregnancy went fast. Sometimes I get choked up with how much I love our son. I get a lump in my throat staring at him in his bassinet and my stomach gets butterflies when I think about how grateful I am that he is here. I reflect on our infertility and realize that if we had gotten pregnant 6 years ago or 1 year ago or one cycle ago or one second sooner it wouldn't be him. Him. The little boy who sleeps with his arms above his head like he just got caught with his hands in the cookie jar. The little boy who wakes up with the sweetest little cat stretches and gigantic noises that seem to come from deep in his throat. The little boy who smiled at me a few days ago. A huge smile, all gums, that lasted a split second and now I will do anything to get him to do it again. I now can't imagine life without him, his goofy noises or his uncanny ability to need another diaper change 3 minutes after I just changed it.

People told me how much I would love him (true), how I would fall in love with my husband all over again watching him with the baby (totally true) and how I wouldn't be able to picture time without him (completely true).

What they didn't tell me about were all the pads.

Seriously, between the overnight maxi pads I've been wearing for 4 weeks and the breast pads (just finished my first box of disposables), I feel like I am constantly leaking from somewhere.

Wouldn't trade it for the world.

Birth Story!!!

2011-03-03T05:22:00.000-08:00

One week to the day of the great pee in my pants story, I again found myself with liquid running down my legs...

Tuesday February 22nd was my 35th birthday.

On Monday night, we went out with my parents for a nice birthday dinner and my mom remarked how uncomfortable I seemed. To me, that felt like an understatement. At that point I was exactly 37 weeks pregnant (full term!) and getting more uncomfortable by the day. I had extreme hip pain, especially on my right side which made putting on pants uncomfortable at best and excruciating at worst. Restless legs were my enemy every night and heartburn was my arch nemesis all day long. But, dinner was fun and we took some pictures of me and my belly never realizing that I was soon to meet the little boy that had been making me so uncomfortable.

On Tuesday, we didn't have a whole lot planned for my birthday. In fact, that was the only day the pediatrician could meet with us for an interview, so we had that and dinner planned. The interview went fine, the pediatrician's office was very clean and bright and the doctor seemed gentle and straightforward. After that, I picked my favorite steak place for dinner and we set off.

Halfway through dinner I really didn't feel good. I lost my appetite and ended up spending more than a few minutes in the restaurant bathroom with a stomachache. I had a lingering backache all day too, but chalked it up to another symptom of my ever growing belly. We packed up my leftovers and headed home, never knowing that that would be the last time we would go to that restaurant as a party of 2.

When we got home, I saw that I had missed a birthday call from a close friend and so I called her back and we chatted for almost an hour. She has an 18 month old baby and was giving me tips and advice with what to do with my last three weeks before I was due. Little did any of us know what was coming next...

The Saturday before my birthday was part 1 of the childbirth class that C and I signed up for. In it, I got a few helpful tips (one of which being don't spend the money on De.pends to help if your water breaks - just use some of the infant diapers you likely have stockpiled). One of the other tips was about using the big yoga ball to help get through the contractions. I thought it might also help take some of the pressure off my hips these last few weeks as well.

So, after I hung up the phone with my friend, I went into the living room to blow up my new yoga ball that I picked up at Target that afternoon. It came with a little hand pump, so I sat on the couch pumping and watching the ball slowly blow up.

I readjusted my position on the couch and I felt a little pop from deep inside my body. I thought it was weird. Like a muscle twitch. Like I overdid it with shopping in the afternoon, a doctor appointment, dinner and work around the house. I had visions of my friend, who has been on me my whole pregnancy about relaxing, giving me a hard time about doing too much.

But, those thoughts didn't last long as a huge gush (pee?) of liquid came out of me and onto the couch. I jumped up in disbelief! How could this happen again? Is this what my last few weeks are going to be? Me in a diaper just because I can't control my bladder anymore...

It was different this time. I couldn't stop the gush. I shuffled into the kitchen, knees locked in primal attempt to stop the flow. But the flow would not stop. I had no choice but to take off my pants in the kitchen and grab the nearest towel and hold it between my legs. Only then could I walk to the bathroom to at least keep it off the kitchen floor. As I continued to dribble and gush I came to realize that This. Might. Be. It.

Calmly, and with no pants or underwear on, I went to the den where C had fallen asleep on the couch. "Honey?"

"Honey. I think my water just broke." He smiled, remembering exactly a week ago, in exactly the same spot and said, "Maybe it is just your bladder again..." I showed him my pants and ran back to the bathroom just in time to catch another big gush. "It is still coming out. It is not pee."

He jumped into gear. We thought we still had three weeks to go, so there were a few things that were not done. Quickly, he got the car seat out of the box and set about installing it. I stayed in our bedroom (close to the bathroom) and started packing a hospital bag. We were both very calm on the outside, but our minds were racing a mile a minute on the inside. I called the after hours number for the doctor and she called me right back. I told her what was going on and she gave us the go ahead to get to Labor and Delivery.

It all became very surreal. How could my water break already with three weeks to go? Does a lingering backache count as contractions? Where are my car keys?

At this point it was 12:30am on Wednesday February 23rd. We were driving to the hospital. No one was on the road and all those dry runs we talked about doing to get to the hospital turned out to be unnecessary.

I shuffled into the hospital with C not far behind with our bags and paperwork. We took the elevator up to L&D, signed in and were brought to the room where our son would be born.

I changed into a gown and the nurse checked to see if it was amniotic fluid that was still gushing out of me. It was. Things moved fast after that as the contraction monitor was hooked up to me and the IV bag and the pit hooked up too.

Then, things moved excruciatingly slow. I was stuck at 3cm dilated. It was 4 in the morning and the yoga ball, the massage, the breathing that we learned in the class were minimally helpful. The contractions really started to hurt and the more I moved, the more water that kept pouring out of me. I could not get comfortable. Heartburn (from that steak dinner of many hours ago) was raging war in my esophagus. Restless legs kept me wanting to get up and move around and the IV made me have to pee every 15 minutes.

The nurse came in several times to see how I was doing. She offered me the epidural several times and I kept turning her down because I wanted to be further along before I started it. But the contractions were only getting worse and both the doctor and nurse didn't think I would be ready until later that afternoon. Knowing that the pain would only grow and that it would be HOURS before he arrived, I decided it was time for the epi.

C was right there with me as the giant needle was stuck into my back. It took several tries to get it in and I was truly grateful for C's steady hands and comforting voice as he stood in front of me and held me up as water continued to gush with every needle push. Within minutes the epi kicked in and although I still had control of my legs, it was a constant feeling of pins and needles but no pain. I was able to lay down, relax and even sleep.

I remember the moment I was finally given a shot of maa.lox for the heartburn. It counted as my breakfast since the nurses had encouraged C to get out and get some food before delivery and I still needed to be on an empty stomach.

C returned, I was still pretty comfortable despite the catheter and the pins and needles and finally around 1pm, the nurse came in to check me and said I was dilated to 10! My body was ready. The stirrups came up, carts were rolled in, the doctor was called into our room. It was happening fast. I had no control of my legs, so the nurses were lifting my legs into the stirrups and helping me scoot down to the end of the table. C was whispering in my ear. There was no time to be nervous or scared. All I had to do was pay attention to the nurse and the doctor. Do what they said. Push when they told me. Push for a count of 10! C counted with them. Keep pushing! Keep pushing! They brought out a big mirror, we wanted to see. I remember them telling me to open my eyes, to watch the mirror to watch our baby boy come into the world!!

20 minutes later...Nathan was born. He was in my arms, two coughs and a big cry came out of his mouth and then he was whisked away to get cleaned up. C went to his side and Nathan grabbed his finger.

We have both been reduced to piles of goo. In Love. In love with the most perfect little person I have ever seen. His mouth just like his daddy, his nose just like mine. A perfect mix of the two of us.

All of the struggles, the tears, the heartbreak were so worth it for the moment I saw my baby come out of me. Born into this world to two people who are no longer skin and bones, but piles of goo that in a short week have been pooped on, peed on and spit up on. Two people who are so very sleep deprived and are still wearing the same clothes for the past three days, but don't care.

Time will eventually give us back our sleep and our brains and our clean house. But for now, there is only the three of us.

Oh, and I still can't find my keys.

Water...Broken!

2011-02-23T02:56:00.000-08:00

Let me go, I'm peeing in my pants

2011-02-16T21:14:00.000-08:00

These are the exact words I said to my husband last night. In all my 36 week pregnant glory while trying to shove something into a box it didn't fit into, I knew I had to pee. I knew I shouldn't try and hold it, but it was such a weird moment. I stood there knowing full well I had to pee, fighting a box that was too small and the tears started to well up in my eyes. C jumped up to rid me of the box stress and gave me a hug. It was a nice, warm hubby hug and I must have relaxed enough, or maybe it was a swift kick from the inside or a combination of the two, but it sent the pee running right down my legs.

Not just a trickle...straight up pee.

And then I started to laugh at the sheer absurdity of what was happening and couldn't say the words, "Let me go, I'm peeing in my pants."

And finally, when my pants were fully soaked and I got my voice back, while I stripped for the laundry and the shower, a thought crossed my mind...

Did my water just break??

I haven't peed my pants in 30 years and I have no idea what water breaking feels like. Logic said it was too early for it to be my water, I haven't had any contractions either and I knew I was going to see my OB this morning, so I just asked her about it at my appointment. I do have to say it is so nice to pee your pants and have such an understanding husband and doctor. Nobody laughed at me (I mean we all did have a good laugh about it after), but the fact that this is such a normal thing during pregnancy is so comforting in its absurdity.

My OB did a check and it was just me peeing my pants last night. I am dilated to 2 cm, 70% effaced and -3 station. I am 36 weeks, 3 days and measuring 37 weeks. My blood pressure is normal, I'm even down 4 lbs from last week (for some reason I was seriously bloated last visit).

We still have a ways to go, but this is certainly the closest we have ever been. As I put sheets on the crib and laid down a waterproof mattress pad I thought, "maybe it is time to start thinking about a waterproof mattress pad for me too????"

With a little help from Nancy Dre.w

2011-02-13T23:42:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a lot of research lately about pregnancy fears. Most of the information I have found is all about fears of delivering a baby. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty running through my head about what could happen in the delivery room.

I can picture myself going into labor and getting to the hospital and then I can picture myself with a beautiful baby laying on my chest after delivery. It is just the actual delivery that I can't seem to picture. But, that isn't even what I am worried about. I'm not afraid of labor (at least not today).

The part I am nervous about is how life will change after labor. After those first few crazy weeks of adjusting to life with a newborn. After C goes back to work and I settle into a daily routine.

It is the being a good mom part that has me worried.

**********

When I was younger, I lived and breathed Nancy Dr.ew books. My grandmother and Dad scoured church fairs and thrift shops for the yellow spine hardcovers that were released in the 1960's. I spent hours devouring those books. Absorbing every word. As I grew older and found other books to read and other things to occupy my time, I can't remember the actual day I put the Nancy Dr.ew books away. I don't remember the last one I read, although read them all many times, I don't remember the last one I finished before I put it on the shelf for the last time.

**********

I have had a few moments of stress and physical pain in my life. As a young girl, I used to walk pigeon toed and tripped over my own feet all the time. There are several photos of me with big scrapes on my face from falling down on gravel. As a teenager, I took Kara.te and had my share of bumps and bruises and sore muscles. When I was 15, I cut my thumbprint half off trying to cut a stale bagel. When I was 16, I sprained my wrist while roller skating. And as a 25 year old, I forgot I wasn't Hu.ck Finn and attempted to swing from rope tied to a tree to jump into a lake. I fell and ended up with a concussion and a bruised tailbone.

I had the typical stresses of high school and college and the various stresses of jobs and job loss. I started grinding my teeth the week before my wedding (and stopped after a trip to the dentist). There was definitely stress involved with trying to sell our first house amidst a bad realtor and even worse neighbors. And there was some life stress that led me to visit a therapist for a few months when I entered my 30's.

Then there was the stress and pain of infertility. But, I know you know all about that.

Because of Nancy Dr.ew, I grew up believing I could handle anything that came my way. Whether or not I acknowledged it outright and whether or not it is actually true I grew up believing if Nancy could figure it out, I could too. Whatever "it" is.

Right now, the "it" is motherhood. Nancy never dealt with motherhood in the books that I read. But, there are many mothers that I admire and mothers that I hope I can emulate in even a tiny way. Although, I want to be my own kind of mother. One who is strong and smart and full of love and energy.

It is my goal, but these last few weeks of pregnancy have been hard and are getting harder.

Stress and physical pain. I never had sciatica before and this has shown up in a huge way, making it almost impossible sometimes to take a simple walk across the kitchen. I've heard women mention hitting a wall of exhaustion in the third trimester and that wall smacks me in the face twice a day lately. I feel very clingy to my husband and worry about him on his drive to and from work. I worry that we won't get "everything" done. I think about how our relationship will change and what I will miss about the life we have made for ourselves over the last 10 years.

Nancy taught me how to survive. Now, I need to know that I will be good at this new life. Nobody can tell me ahead of time. I just have to trust myself and know that I have survived so far and that this challenge I can face head on and be the mom I truly want to be.

Some things I'm thinking about with 5 weeks to go

2011-02-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

Oh, wait. What? What was I going to write about?

First, pregnancy brain? Totally real.

Back pain? Definitely.

The fact that my den is a half a flight of stairs down from my kitchen and I am more comfortable sitting on the steps to eat and watch tv than go all the way down and sit on the couch. All the way. All 6 steps!

I'm exhausted, jiggly, crampy and achy. I want my body back. I told C that I wake up with the intention of not complaining, there are just so many feelings I am having both physically and mentally I can't help but start to moan about one thing or another.

During IVF I knew I would be so grateful to be pregnant. And I totally was.

As I crossed over several pregnancy milestones I knew I would become more comfortable with being successfully pregnant. And I was.

As I rode smoothly into the second trimester (truly the honeymoon phase) I told everyone within earshot that I loved being pregnant. And I truly do.

There are just some things going on now that I didn't anticipate. I didn't realize there would be a moment where I really wanted my body back (C likes to say that our baby boy is renting my body right now), feeling frustrated with back pain and instant reflux when I bend down to pick something up. I didn't realize the struggle I would have with s.ex. That I would want to and then get so wrapped up in my head and my jiggly body that I can't get very far. C is sweet and understanding, but I'm feeling pretty confused. I didn't know that I would feel so protective of my newly growing family that I would get stressed about the plan for visitors after our baby boy arrives. C and I are on the same page about how to deal with visitors, I just get wrapped up in my own head and start having imaginary arguments in my head (tell me I am not the only one who does this...).

On the other side of 5 weeks, my baby boy is thriving and rolling and pushing and loved the milkshake I had with lunch today. Soon, I am going to meet the little man who has kept me company all day every day for the past 35 weeks. C and I have done a ton of work on the nursery and the crib and dresser get delivered on Tuesday. My parents were over last week to help out with a few projects and they both got to feel a few kicks from their grandson which made them exclaim that they "love him already!" I know the feeling.

At times I am tired and frustrated and stressed and achy. But, I am also in Love. Love with a husband who has ridden this crazy IF and now pregnancy train with me and has consistently made me feel protected and cared for. Love with my body which took 3 IUIs, a lap and 2 IVFs in stride and now has carried a growing baby for 35 weeks in a beautiful way (even if the stretch marks make my belly look like a zebr.a hallow.een costume). And Love for a little boy who reminds me daily that he is growing and getting stronger and getting ready for me to be his mommy.

Overdue recipe...BLT tacos

2011-02-04T21:43:00.000-08:00

The secret to the perfect BLT taco is the cilantro.

One of my and C's favorite places to go back home is a tiny, hole in the wall mexic.an restaurant. There about 12 stools spread around 3 counters and if you can't get a seat you will either be eating while walking down a picturesque street filled with small shops and people walking their dogs or driving home to eat in the comfort of your living room. We have been the couple eating while walking down the street. We have also been the ones who ran in to get the food while the car is double parked out front. But, our favorite spot are the two stools right in front of the huge window, where we could people watch and pour fresh salsa on top of our tacos and take huge bites and smile at each other relishing in the deliciousness.

This description makes these tacos seem pretty amazing and maybe it is just because the place has such a special place in our hearts, but I think it has a lot to do with the cilantro.

Back in my first trimester, I had a craving for these tacos and since we weren't making the drive to NY anytime soon, I walked into the grocery store and starting thinking and making a mental list of everything in those delicious bites...

Tortillas

Bacon

Monterey Jack cheese

Tomatoes

Red cabbage

Onion

Cilantro

Mayo

Then I got home and got to work, chopping up the tomato, red cabbage, sweet onion, cilantro and a touch of olive oil and salt and pepper to marinate in a big bowl together. Then I fried up the bacon and crumbled it up into pieces.

When we were ready to eat, I warmed up the tortillas and spread mayo down the center, dropping the crumbled bacon on top of that and then layering the vegetables and cheese on top of that. When I rolled up the tortillas they were so thick I needed toothpicks to keep them closed, but it wasn't really necessary since we were both hungry and these reminded us of home.

So that's it...if you make them, let me know how you like them. If it wasn't 1am and I had the ingredients in the house, I would be making a few right now. I guess I will have to settle for a light snack of cheese and crackers with a Tums chaser.

Balance

2011-02-03T19:29:00.000-08:00

As time moves faster and the little elephant on my page gets ever closer to the 40 week mark and my to-do list grows ever longer, I find myself reflective.

I am also finding opportunities to talk to C about what we both are thinking about and hoping for ourselves as parents. During our years of IUIs and IVFs we often found ourselves noticing families and children who may be misbehaving and asking ourselves what we would do and even judging other parents, knowing we would do it better. But, as my due date gets closer, all that knowing becomes very real. What do we know really? Nothing.

I have a very close friend who has an 18 month old and both of them came to stay with us for the weekend. It was a great time and we had a lot of fun, but there were moments where the baby absolutely wore me out. I imagine part of it is because I am 34 weeks pregnant and exhausted enough just by getting through the day, never mind spending it chasing a baby, walking around parks and getting up early and staying up late. By the end of the weekend, I found myself very grateful they were leaving and that made me feel bad. Here was one of my closest friends with her son and all I could think of was that this preview of things to come was more stressful and anxiety inducing than fun.

We live far away from each other and the past few nights I have gotten a few emails from her about her son's struggles with sleep and her and her hubby's difficulty with agreeing how to handle it. I don't really have good advice for her and I'm finding that I don't want to hear about it. It scares me. I spoke to C about it tonight. I told him that her stories were troublesome to me for a few reasons, and that I hope and pray that our sweet boy is a good sleeper, that the two of us are together on how we handle it (and don't turn on each other) and that I am strong enough to let the baby cry if that is what he needs to learn how to sleep.

It is exhausting to try and figure out right now what we will do if we have a similar problem a year and a half from now. It is my instinct to always have an answer. To be definitive in my plan. How can I possibly expect myself to know how this next part of my life will go???

I am not naive enough to think that we will have no problems and parenting will be a piece of cake, but right now the things going through my head are finishing my to-do list, getting through childbirth, and praying for a healthy little boy. C is confident that we can handle anything life gives us (which is comforting and true considering everything we have been through so far), but now I am just struggling with how to support my friend and protect myself from the worries of the distant future. I know she doesn't realize that this is difficult for me to hear. I have known her for 20 years and I know that she is just venting. I know that I can be honest with her, but right now it makes me feel weak to tell her how I really feel. I want everybody to think I am so prepared and ready to handle anything, but inside I am a little twitchy.

I am very honest with C about my feelings. My hopes and my fears too. I don't want to worry him though. I love his confidence in us. I feel it too. I just need to find a healthy balance between taking care of myself and protecting my little growing boy these next 6 weeks, being respectful to my family and in-laws who seem to have a lot of advice right now and my dear friend who is struggling with things that I can't fix and gives me anxiety about the future.

The goals are a healthy little boy in 6 weeks, a new title for me and C and a peaceful, loving life. The trick is the balance.

Does anybody need ovulation test sticks?

2011-02-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

I was cleaning out my cabinet and found a box of 6 brand new ovula.tion test sticks (they expire May 2011) that go with the CBE digital ovula.tion test. I just have the test sticks (not the digital test holder), but would be happy to mail them out to the first person who lets me know. Just drop a comment and I'll message you for your address. I'll cover the shipping cost, I just want to give them to someone who can use them.

Close. Time. Almost. Stuff.

2011-01-24T17:22:00.001-08:00

I've written posts about how my brain felt like it was all over the place. Like I had so many things I wanted to do before I was due. And now, that due date is the closest it has ever been.

Amazingly enough, a day that I never thought I would get to have came this past weekend. My baby shower. My own. Mine.

It was so surreal. As I walked in the door, the host of the party, a fairly new friend of mine asked me if I was going to cry. I wasn't. And I'm a crier. I was just too happy to cry and made my way around her house to appreciate every detail of the party.

I didn't want to forget a thing. From the small table by the door overflowing with favors to the fabric alphabet blocks hanging from the ceiling. Then from the big bowl of fruit punch on the counter to the cake made to look EXACTLY like the baby quilt I picked out. And then there was the clothesline filled with baby clothes and socks and hats and blankets hanging across the dining room. I didn't want to forget a single detail.

I'm not usually one to post a lot of pictures...but this cake was outrageous!

It was a very small group. I recently moved and most of of my family and friends are 7+ hours away, never mind trying to travel during this endless winter that some are experiencing. But that small group was perfect. Me, feeling especially round and bloaty, surrounded by the people who are closest to me.

This day clicked into place like so many moments of this pregnancy so far. The first time I POAS and it was positive, the first time I walked into my OB's office, the first time a food (steak) made me dry heave, our first class at the hospital, the first time I walked into a maternity store to shop for myself, the day my belly popped and I looked officially pregnant, the first time a stranger noticed and commented on my pregnancy, the first time I realized an orange makes our little guy dance in my belly and the first (of many) times I finished off a bottle of Tu.ms.

And now, at exactly 33 weeks pregnant, surrounded by the baby stuff quickly filling up every corner of our home, I feel a bit rushed. Every Saturday in February is booked with classes at the hospital. There is some well-meaning pressure from friends and family to "help" and I'm feeling a bit lost. I imagine what I am writing will not come out exactly right. Maybe it sounds like I am not grateful. I am beyond grateful. I am just a little overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed with a party that was for me, but not for me, if that makes any sense. I guess I am afraid of losing my identity when I become a mom. I wonder if that happens when you get pregnant at 34 years old instead of being much younger or if I am just being selfish.

I know that when I look back at my life, being pregnant will be an absolute highlight. I have LOVED these past 33 weeks. I'm just afraid. Afraid of how completely life is going to change. And I know...when I say that to people who have kids, they immediately launch into how life changes for the better. But, I have been me for a long time. A little lost, a little neurotic and a little goofy.

And, I don't know how to be a mommy without losing the part of me that makes me awesome.

How we got here

2010-12-12T19:12:00.000-08:00

Tonight, while standing on long line, after a long day, I stood behind my husband and rested my head on his shoulder. Suddenly a female voice popped up, "Excuse me....are you having a boy?"

Tonight was the first time a stranger noticed and commented (and guessed right!) about me being pregnant. She said she could tell by the way I was carrying....high. I told her that would be why I have nightly heartburn and run out of air while bending over to put my socks on.

It was a small moment that made me smile big. It also made me think about how we got here...

I can remember making that first phone call to our new RE in January 2009. We thought that the new year and new doctor would bring us a new baby. The RE didn't have any appointments until February so we had to wait. But, whats a little more waiting for a couple who have spent the four years prior doing a whole lot of the same.

February came and I can remember sitting in our RE's office for the first time. I am a smiley person by nature and that day we were feeling hopeful and encouraged. I smiled at the receptionist when we walked in, the people in the waiting room while we waited our turn and I smiled at our RE.

There would be other days when I sat in that room with no smile. With tears. With frustration, with boredom and sometimes with a face of stone, just going through the motions.

But not that day.

Dr. R mentioned IVF and their success rates first. I remember making the face. The face that meant, "Not yet. I'm not ready for IVF yet and maybe not ever." That felt way too big.

We left with a plan to try IUIs first. He told us that if they are going to work usually it will happen with the first or second try, but that many couples go on to do three, four, five or more. We wanted to try the less invasive, cheaper and less medicated option first. One at least, maybe two. We would play it by ear, still hopeful and we left smiling.

March 2009. Our first IUI. It didn't interfere with any family events or work (it fell on a weekend). It was fairly easy. Nonetheless, it was a brand new world to us; medications, sp.erm collection, cath.eters. The nurse dimmed the lights and when it was done, I felt like I needed a hug. It felt so scientific and sterile. We picked up some lunch on the way home and I laid on the couch with my feet up, hoping and praying and coming to the quick realization that this was going to be a long 2ww.

Negative.

We would go on to have two more IUIs resulting in a BFN. Those IUIs were maddening. We missed a family reunion that summer because it fell on exactly the same weekend. We went on to miss a big Thanksgiving due to more wasted time (and money) in the stirrups. Looking back, I guess we could have timed it better, but we were at the mercy of my cycle and we didn't want to wait any longer than what we already had.

Each time we would get a negative, I would want to wallow in it for a while. And then my body needed to recover and then we were ready to go again, and again and again.

The doctor started talking about a laparoscopy, there was a cyst that wasn't going away. We started feeling like we were being led to IVF. More and more signs started pointing in that direction.

But, we thought maybe one more IUI was in our future. And then we thought better of it. We had already tried it three times. We were already $6,000 into it. And Christm.as was coming and I didn't want to spend another family holiday in stirrups. So we decided three was enough for us. The lap was scheduled for January 2010.

I started blogging in March 2010, just a few days before our first IVF. It was the day of my last ultrasound before my first ever egg retrieval. The emotion of that first IVF is still as fresh in my mind as what I had for dinner tonight.

It was our second IVF that worked. The one that changed everything. The one that is bringing a little boy almost a year to the day that of that last ultrasound right before my very first egg retrieval.

As the Tum.s digest...

2010-11-29T20:50:00.000-08:00

Tum.s and I are still very good friends and I really appreciate my blog friends offering up some more solutions for relief.

I just wanted to get a few updates out...last week I had my 24 week appointment! It is amazing that I am now more than halfway through and I look back at my posts from July and it feels like a dream.

The appointment went great. I have gained 16(!) pounds since I started and asked the doctor if that was too much or ok, and she said since I was measuring exactly 24 weeks, she was fine with the weight gain.

Our sweet little boy is doing great, strong heartbeat and only sometimes uses my bladder as a squeeze toy...like right now.

Next appointment is coming up December 22nd and it will be a little busier. I have to get the rhog.am shot, but the better news is that we will get another ultrasound. At the appointment before last they found that my placenta was a little low (marginal), and they are expecting it to move up with my uterus on its own, so this upcoming visit will double check.

I had my glucos.e tolerance test this morning. It was pretty painless. I heard conflicting things about eating vs. not eating before the appointment, so decided to go on an empty stomach and keep my fingers crossed. I went with fruit punch flavor and it was nice and cold and went down fine...although I heard stories about how nasty it was, it was over quick enough.

I felt fine after I drank it and waited the hour, but by the time I got home I had a small headache and a big stomachache. A good friend of mine calls that particular brand of stomachache "bubble guts". After lunch and some rest, I was back to normal pretty quick.

So...as I fall asleep on my keyboard I'll say goodnight to you and to the little boy kicking me and reminding me just how blessed our lives are.

Night, night.

All is quiet

2010-11-10T20:22:00.000-08:00

And by that I mean the dog next door has finally stopped barking. Seriously, he has been barking for what feels like hours. We live in the sticks and so any kind of leaf rustling sets this dog off. Anyway...

Heartburn.

All day it has felt like lava doing laps around my esophagus, stopping at the back of my throat for a rest and then back down again. I've been doing the Tu.ms thing, but I don't think they are getting the job done anymore. I feel like I am ready to move on to the harder stuff. The doctor gave me a short list (mylan.ta, pepc.id, zan.tac), so basically it is just trial and error until I figure out what works. I would prefer not to take anything, but at times it is brutal.

Last night we took a tour of the hospital. Some IRL friends have questioned us going so early (I am only 22 weeks), but honestly I didn't think it was that early and with Thanksgiv.ing and Chr.istmas coming up fast, I was feeling like I wanted to get these things (tours, classes) checked off the list now, to clear the fog in my mind a bit.

The tour went really well. The maternity wing is only 5 years old, so everything is sparkling. We saw two brand new baby boys through the window and that was the BEST. So little and sweet. I immediately reached a hand down to my belly to cheer on our little boy.

I did have to smirk (to myself) at one point. C wasn't there yet and neither was one other husband's wife (turns out they were stuck in the same traffic). So the husband - M - and I started talking. His wife is due in January and I told him we are due in March. It is the first for each of us and I mentioned that it took us a long time (my standard opener to lead into our IVF story) and then he said that it took them a long time too. I perked right up expecting a number of years...but it turns out it took them 9 months (and it happened naturally). I spend so much time reading about long struggles with IF, that I forget that what is long to some people, would feel like nothing to so many of us. I would never want to sell them or anybody short. A wait is a wait no matter how long it is when you are trying to get to your goal. Each of us has a story. C reminded me of that when I told him what M and I were talking about.

I did tell him we did IVF and although he didn't know anyone personally, he asked questions about embryos that made me feel like he knew a bit about it.

So, I'm not sure there is a real point to this post, just wanted to vent about barking dogs, relentless heartburn, and people who get pregnant naturally. ;)

It's A Boy!!!

2010-10-27T16:31:00.001-07:00

What an awesome day! We had an early appointment and I had a full bladder and was laying on the table by 8:30am. Our sweet little boy is doing awesome and I realized that although my OB seems to be stuck on one adjective, I am thrilled that that adjective is the word...perfect.

It didn't take too long for the ultrasound tech to confirm boy status and I immediately welled up with tears of joy. I had been thinking for a while that we had a little girl in there, but as soon as she said boy, I immediately said to myself, "of course...it has always been a little boy. We have a son." I haven't stopped smiling all day.

Phone calls, sky.pe calls, text messages and big in person hugs filled the day and we couldn't be happier. I sent my brothers text messages and they both responded immediately (they live in different time zones, so I didn't want to wake them with calls) and my one brother said, "This is the best news to wake up to EVER." I'm beyond excited to give my brothers a nephew. To give our parents a grandson.

I had a feeling today would be a game changer. And it totally was. We are going to have a son. Wahhhhoooooo!

20 weeks and appointment tomorrow

2010-10-26T19:25:00.001-07:00

Back in July, when our RE called to tell us we were pregnant, all I could do was walk around my house (since I was home alone at the time) and ask the furniture, "How did this happen???" Of course I knew how it all happened, it was just the miracle of it all coming together and really working that was so hard to wrap my brain around.

Now that I am 20 weeks (and 1 day), I am still a little bit in disbelief. I look down at my growing belly and there is a part of me that still feels like all I have done is had a big (big) dinner. Even though I live in maternity pants or sweats and all my t-shirts are all becoming too short, I still have an image of boxes of Lupro.n and Men.opur stacked up in my fridge when I open the door (even though they have either long been polished off or donated).

And now? Tomorrow morning I will be back in the stirrups. This time my full bladder is so that the OB can get a clear picture of our little growing baby. We are going to see the little one who surprises me with little flutters during the day.

We are going to hold hands and smile huge and be forever changed. I have always felt like this will be the moment when this becomes much more real. I can't wait!

before everything is different

2010-10-07T18:51:00.000-07:00

I have tried to post a couple of times this month. Started posts, written a sentence or two or even paragraphs, but ultimately saved them for later or hit the delete button.

My inability to post is much like my inability to finish just about any project I have started lately. My mind is so full of good and exciting things, it is just that my focus is completely out the window.

I feel like my brain, and my body for that matter, is broken up into a 100 piece puzzle and while I am in the middle of putting a piece in, I get distracted (usually by food, or a new idea or my endless to-do list) and have to start all over again.

There are a few freelance job opportunities that I would like to pursue. There are so many projects in my home that I would like to start (completing a few would be nice too). Paperwork that needs to be organized. My brain is torn and I know that at least half of what I want to do doesn't have to get done before my due date...but I feel this self imposed pressure to do so.

I know I am all over the place with this post, this is so indicative of my life right now. I feel this urge to...straighten up my past to be ready for the future...which is coming fast.

The straightening I want to do is not big things, just dozens of small things. Weird organization things, things I never thought much about other than finding comfort in knowing that they are there. Things like my box of elementary and middle school projects and cards. I need them in order. All my pictures both digital and the zillions in boxes, organized by event and year. Clearly marked. Everything in its place.

I guess it is just that I know my life is changing and I don't want to leave anything behind. I'm scrambling to remember myself, my old self before I am different. Before I go from pregnant woman (from 6 years of overwhelmed infertile) all the way to someones mom. I don't want to rush. This might be the only time I get to be pregnant (although my mom hates when I say that and my husband doesn't think this is the only one for us) and I don't want to rush through it. I am having so much fun. Watching my belly expand is unbelievable. Buying a maternity bathing suit last month was awesome. I'm even going to shop for maternity jeans this weekend (I'm over it with the belly band).

I was tired today. No reason especially, I think it is just my brain that is tired. When I told my hubby, he said, "Well, you are almost halfway through." I want to slow this down. I prayed and wished and tried so hard to get here and now it is moving too fast.

I have so much I want to do.

Before everything is different.

Never alone

2010-09-18T14:49:00.000-07:00

As vacation wound to a close, we had one last family dinner out. Walking out of the restaurant I noticed a man about my age holding a sweet baby girl about 9 months old. I smiled at the little girl and caught the eye of the man and told him how sweet she was, I also told him I am newly pregnant and have spent the week chatting up anybody with a baby.

He told C and I that it took he and his wife about 5 years to get pregnant and as we nodded in understanding he confided that they had been dealing with "fertility stuff." C and I instantly felt a connection to this stranger. As his wife came out onto the porch of the restaurant and smiled at us too, he introduced us as fellow climbers on the fertility mountain. His wife's face lit up and we immediately started sharing stories about panic attacks over shots and crying jags because of over the top hormones. Our husbands were smiling and commiserating right along with us.

In this single moment, infertility connected 4 strangers that normally would have walked on by with nothing more than a smile and nod. We are all out there. It was so freeing to talk to someone who understood. I'm still smiling about that moment. C and I felt so good, that we are never alone. There needs to be more moments like this. We will keep talking about it...long after our baby is grown with babies of their own, we will keep telling our story.

New to me

2010-09-16T19:24:00.000-07:00

Everybody warns you about unsolicited advice when you get pregnant. I feel like I am prepared for that. What I wasn't prepared for was what happened tonight.

C and I have been on a two week vacation and it has been awesome. We spent the first week on the west coast and week two on the east coast spending time in both oceans and hanging with family. This vacation has been so long overdue and we are completely loving it.

This week we have been with C's family and they are so excited for us. Some of the extended fam heard the news for the first time (over a toast at dinner last night from C) where I found myself really chatty and excited to share our news for the first time since our BFP. It was a great dinner.

Tonight, some friends of C's sister came over to have dinner with us. They have a 9 month old son who we were all meeting for the first time. Since talk was all about babies tonight, I realized that even though I am pregnant I will always be a little different than the women who got pregnant naturally. It was so obvious while talking to this new mom. She was determined to tell me all about her pregnancy, which tests they took, how many ultrasounds they had, how her delivery was and all the challenging things I have to look forward to (her words), breast feeding, getting peed on...

I found myself backing further and further away from her (both in my head and physically) and when someone tasked me with chopping broccoli, I jumped at the opportunity to take a break from what felt like a surreal pregnancy lecture.

Invitro is a part of me. Every day it makes me appreciate all these little milestones, like telling family at 14 weeks (which she practically rolled her eyes and said, "it's about time"), and making a decision with C and the approval of our doctor not to do the NT scan (which she totally disagreed with and proceeded to tell me all the reasons why).

This is someone I don't ever want to be. One who doesn't understand that some women struggle, that there are a ton of different ways that people become parents and that there isn't only one way to experience a pregnancy. That it isn't her way or its wrong.

I just need to figure out a new way to express myself when I am uncomfortable or feeling intimidated instead of silently chopping broccoli seething with every chop.

Flashing between two worlds

2010-08-20T11:31:00.000-07:00

Our first OB appointment was yesterday! I went in thinking that we would walk out having heard the heartbeat (check...162 BPM), get a beautiful new image (check...9 pics) and have an overload of information (check...not overload, but definitely a big folder full).

But, it was stranger than I thought it would be sitting in the waiting room. It was bright with big windows, there were small children playing on the floor, there was music and smiling women with big bellies and warm smiles from everyone from the receptionist to the nurses to the doctors. I couldn't help but compare it to the waiting room at my RE's office. I realized that there were no windows in that waiting room, there was no music, there was barely any eye contact, even from the receptionist and the tone of voice of the nurses was much more dry and flat.

Sitting in this new, foreign waiting room, I felt relieved and slightly uncomfortable. Like I finally got invited to the party, but I was still standing up against the wall. It also made me want to stand up in the middle of the room and ask if anyone else was an IF'er. If anyone else was like me, still feeling like I didn't quite fit in. Like I belonged back in the quiet waiting room, keeping my smiles to myself, waiting in the silence to hear my name being called while hiding behind a magazine.

When my name got called for this ultrasound, I jumped up and asked if we could wait a few more minutes for C, who left work early to meet me. They smiled and agreed right away (again, so different from the patient conveyor belt feel of the RE's office). It took less than a minute before C walked in and I jumped up like a little kid and said maybe a bit too loud, "He's here!" I felt like I was quickly informing the waiting room that it was my very first time.

We went in to the ultrasound room and it was warm and inviting. Beautiful hardwood floors and soft artwork on the walls. I immediately flashed back to the RE's ultrasound room, the stark walls with the florescent lighting, the "uplifting" poster hung half-heartedly from one of the ceiling tiles. The chine.se conception chart taped to the cabinet door, edges curling from age right next to the pricing list of fertility drugs from the local pharmacy.

C held my hand while I laid on the table, feet in the stirrups and lights dim. We saw legs and arms on a beautiful body and a sweet round head and there was a quick moment where we got a wave. A wave. From deep inside my uterus. This little baby, the size of a big green grape, waved its little arm and C grabbed my hand a little tighter. I flashed again, back to the other table and stirrups I spent so much time in, the times C held my hand while the RE looked for cysts and mature follicles and the times that he looked and my uterus was empty.

Finally, we met the doctor. She is short and bright, and came into the room like a light whose eyes and smile said, "You belong." She had read my file before she met me. I came in expecting to have to tell her my whole story, but all she did was confirm a few details and tell me that things were perfect. Perfect. That is a word I have waited 6 years to hear. Finally something was right. It wasn't a shrug, or a "it's different for everybody" or the guessing and trying new things game that is IF sometimes. We got past the unexplained infertility part of our diagnosis. The thing that has defined our family of two for almost as long as C and I have been together. I am a pregnant woman. But, I am still that wide-eyed patient that first walked into a fertility office 6 years ago, and one who walked into a new fertility office a year and a half ago, someone who should be an honorary cowgirl for all the time I have spent in stirrups.

I started blogging just before my first IVF. I was overwhelmed with the emotion of it all and needed an outlet that was more than my mom and friends who could only sympathize and not truly understand (no matter how much they tried). At certain points it was easy to be happy for the happy blogs, the ones who were getting BFPs and delivering babies. It was during the times when I felt hopeful and strong. But, sometimes it wasn't possible to even click over to a blog that might be happy, it was too hard to read and impossible to comment. Sometimes it was too much to even log on at all. The times the tears came down so hard that I couldn't see past my eyelashes.

I know this is starting to turn into a different blog, one that talks too much about food (I'll put up that BLT taco recipe in my next post I promise) and nausea. I won't be complaining about Crin.one suppositories anymore, now that today was my last one and the stories of REs and shots are slowing turning into stories about OBs and heartbeats. I'm treading lightly into this new world. I am thoroughly enjoying this new person I am becoming. I love her and I feel confident in my body and my mind for the first time in a long time.

I get it though. I know when a happy blog is impossible to read. I understand. I will never, ever forget what a BFN feels like, especially when it happens over and over again. I have peed on more than my share of sticks, taken my temperature when all I want to do is jump out of bed and go to the bathroom, sat across from doctors who shrugged, climbed into stirrups and waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. Cried. Felt hope that was dashed. Cried. Curled up next to my hubby and cried. Cried the tears of a lost dream and the path that felt impossible. I stood at the bottom of the mountain of drugs and needles and said, "I can't do this."

But, I did. I could. And I did. There are no words to describe how the support from this community pulled me up and pushed me through. I am forever a part of this community and I will continue to lift others up as I was lifted.

Just can't POAS and BLT tacos

2010-08-17T08:44:00.000-07:00

I seem to have this weird aversion to POAS. I am 10 weeks and 1 day today and still haven't done it. A stick has never, ever, ever brought me good news and now I think I have convinced myself this is all a dream and I will wake up after I finally buy a stick and stick it under the stream.

In other news...my first OB-GYN appointment is on Thursday! I am very ready for this appointment. It would have been about two weeks ago, but they couldn't get me in until Thursday. This makes me raise my eyebrows a bit because I don't know if that means this doctor is super busy and its going to be hard to get a regular appointment. I am going to see how Thursday goes and there are plenty of other doctors to check out if I'm not feeling the love.

I'm thinking strong heartbeat, beautiful new picture and an overload of information at this appointment. Must remember to bring a notebook. I don't find myself thinking of a ton of questions to ask and I don't know if that is a bad thing. I don't feel worried or stressed, just kind of going with the flow, which is nice because I haven't had that feeling in a long time. Long. Time.

I do finally feel a touch of my regular energy back. Not 100%, but I don't feel like just laying down wherever I am (whether that is my living room, bedroom or the supermarket), which is nice. Beef is still completely offensive and I do feel like my sense of smell is a little extra strong. I was making chicken last night and it was making me make that face we make when something smells funny. Hubby said it tasted great, so it is all me.

I am definitely craving fruit more than veggies, and veggies and beans more than meat. I was having an insane craving last week for BLT tacos from a place back home (back home is 7 hours away, so we were not exactly getting there in time for my craving). I ended up at the grocery store and by memory recreated (pretty exactly to pat myself on the back) BLT tacos. It was awesome. That will probably need to happen again.

Oh and frozen yogurt. Mmmmmmmm

Ok, so enough about food. And enough from me today. I'll be back after my appointment on Thursday. And I'll be really smiling on Friday (last day of Crin.one!!!!)

9 weeks today

2010-08-09T12:54:00.000-07:00

Beef is still very much off the list of things I can eat and right now the smell of leftover bean salad from a family BBQ is overwhelming my nostrils in a way that makes me recoil in scrunched up nose horror.

Today I am 9 weeks pregnant and it is just as hard to believe as it has been since that first beta.

I never did POAS. I had considered it a few times, even tried (to no avail when the stick went blank) and vowed to do it after our positive beta. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I still plan to do it. I do still want to see what a positive stick looks like for the first time ever.

We had family and friends in town last week. It was great because they all know our news and were happy to celebrate with us. We only told the handful of people who knew we were doing IVF. I am definitely not comfortable putting the news out there for all to see just yet and have recently disabled my Fac.ebook wall to prevent any unintentional outing from well-meaning folks.

I am finding myself frustrated by my lack of energy. I was completely wiped out by the end of the week and never got out of my pajamas yesterday. Even today, I didn't get into the shower until 3pm. I am one to always have a craft/knitting/sewing project in the works, but after I get through just what I need to do, the idea of a craft project is exhausting. I just need to lay down. C is being really good and understanding when I need to rest, but I just feel lazy and lame. Of course, I do know what is causing the exhaustion and that is all good. ;)

The one big thing I learned is how all the symptoms wax and wane on a completely irregular basis. At first it was making me Crazy. The second I felt good, I worried that I wasn't pregnant anymore.

I had to change my way of thinking.

I know I am pregnant. I know I am and I tell my sweet baby all about how healthy he or she is and how much they are wanted and how I am taking care of my body to give them the best start possible. So in the moments that I feel like myself and have a burst of energy, I had to retrain myself to take advantage of it and get a few things done instead of dwelling on the negative.

I don't know about you, but during our years of IUIs and IVFs I always kind of thought and expected that the moment I pregnant everything would just be simple and awesome all the time.

I think I am going to learn a lot of these little lessons between now and March.

One!

2010-07-27T20:16:00.000-07:00

Going in to the sonogram and possibly my RE's office for the last time, I felt the familiar nervous flutter that I used to reserve for college finals and job interviews.

Getting undressed in Room #5 while hubby stood nearby, I looked up at him and said, "I'm nervous honey." He asked me why. I didn't really have one definitive answer, it was just the combo of being about to find out how we did and exactly how many resulted from how we did.

Climbing into the stirrups and sliding my butt down to the edge of the exam table I tried to figure out just how many times I had been there before. But I never got to the number since Dr. R was ready to go and asked us if were too. We definitely were ready.

I could tell that the doctor did a quick sweep of my uterus before settling on the empty side. With a smile he said, "This is your uterus" then he swept to the side where our sweet little seed is growing and said, "This is your uterus on drugs." :)

Then he simply said, "Here is your baby." It was instant love. But I knew that both of us wanted to say, "Just one?"

When we transferred three embryos, everyone from our RE to strangers told us to prepare for twins or even triplets. So we did. We thought about how we would need to buy a new car and how we would set up the bedroom with three cribs and eventually bunk beds.

That is why our first instinct was, "Just one?"

But, it is not "Just one". It is "One!!!" We feel overwhelmingly blessed and so excited.

Things became so much more real in the moment that Dr. R handed us each a copy of the picture of our beautiful little baby; one for Mommy and one for Daddy (and one for Auntie Kim - the nurse who attached it to our file).

It is real. We haven't been playing make-believe for the past 7 weeks. We can be excited for the future (edd: 3/15/2011!). There are going to be three of us. We are going to be Mommy and Daddy.

I'm so happy! So, so happy.

New vocabulary words

2010-07-26T07:41:00.000-07:00

It is that feeling of instant nausea as soon as I get hungry. It is the rolling feeling in my stomach whenever I look at meat in all its forms (steak, ham, pork, chicken). It is the rotten onion that my mom cut into that sent me dry heaving over the sink. It is the occasional cramp that rocks my abdomen. It is the heavy, tender feeling I have in my brea.sts when I take my b.ra off. And it is exhaustion that hits at regular intervals throughout the day.

It is all these things that remind me of the fact that I am pregnant. Even today, at exactly 7 weeks, it is as hard to believe as me winning the l.otto.

I have my first sonogram today. I am so excited and yet a little hesitant because we will (hopefully) find out exactly what is going on in there. Last night, I had a dream that there were 5 babies growing in there. We would be thrilled with just one, two....three. Just praying for more than the zero we have had for so many years.

There have been moments of anxiety. Moments when I didn't know what the cramping was (uterus stretching), moments when I didn't feel the brea.st tenderness as strong, moments when my energy level felt normal and moments when I didn't feel like I could wait one more second to have my first sonogram.

I think those moments are normal. I had to back off a little from writing my own and reading your blogs because it was just too much information. I needed to focus on me and not get wrapped up in advice from Dr. Goo.gle.

Every pregnancy is so different. Every woman is so different.

I still can't believe I have new words in my vocabulary.

Morning sickness.

Sonogram.

Pregnant.

Wow.

Beef. Its not for dinner.

2010-07-20T19:22:00.000-07:00

I ordered it tonight at dinner. It looked great when the waitress brought it to the table. I picked up my shiny fork and knife and cut a piece and took a bite. No. Nope. Not even a little bit. Even now (5 hours later), the thought of the beef makes my stomach queasy.

Do you know what I really want? Pizza. All the time. Like right now. Please.

Today I am 6 weeks and 2 days pregnant and it still feels very much like we are playing make-believe. I look at myself in the mirror and squint to see what might be changes to my body (already?). It feels too early to notice a difference, but then an audible gag from a bite of steak and very tender and full feeling BBS reminds me that this is really happening.

And then I realize I'm smiling when I can't eat the steak.

What are my next steps?

2010-07-13T21:40:00.000-07:00

So many amazing women posted beautiful words of support for my (still in awe) BFP, including the awesome Auntie Sissy. She posed the question, "What are your next steps?" It is a great question and one where the answers seem to keep evolving.

We got a few first steps done. We had a celebratory dinner out, we told only immediate family and the close circle of friends who knew we were going through our second IVF. They were all ecstatic as we told them, but we find that we finish up by saying one or all of the following practiced phrases:

We are keeping it close to the vest.

We are flying under the radar.

We are keeping a low profile.

and

Please don't post anything on my Facebook wall yet.

Just protecting ourselves. I am still surprised (and definitely smile) every time I go to the bathroom and there is no sign of AF.

Monday the 12th was our 7 year wedding anniversary. We were going to go back to the same restaurant we were sitting in exactly one week before. Where we looked at each other completely drained from the home stretch of our 2ww. We looked at each other exhausted. Overwhelmed. We looked at each other and tried to talk through our next steps if our second IVF didn't work. But there was something in the air, we still had a lot of hope, but we were just So. Tired. Of. Waiting.

The call came two days later and our world turned upside down and we continue to be so grateful for this miracle.

We didn't end up back at that restaurant, the day got away from us and we ended up staying closer to home for a delicious Italian dinner. I was shocked to find that I couldn't finish my creme brulee dessert. I got halfway through and put my spoon down. I couldn't take another bite.

I have never not finished a creme brulee before. ;)

Glowing

2010-07-09T05:38:00.000-07:00

Beta is up to 261!

261, 261, 261, I made her repeat it 3 times. I was waiting for that call, I thought that would make it more official for me. I'm still hovering somewhere between "I'm pregnant!" and "How did this happen?!?" I do know exactly how it happened, but for some reason that has been my rallying cry for the past few days.

When I got the call on Wednesday morning after the first beta, C called from work just as I was hanging up with the doctor. I had wanted to do something special to tell him, since IVF seems to su.ck all the special out of just about everything, but I couldn't contain my tears of joy.

I just blurted out, "I'm pregnant!!"

He blurted out, "How do you know??"

"I know because the doctor just told me!"

"I want to kiss you right now!"

And faster than I could hang up the phone, I jumped in the shower and drove to C's job to kiss him.

How did this happen? It seems like all the hard we went through just melted away and sheer happiness took over. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted and now that it is gone, I realize just how heavy it was. We carried that weight for 3 years (6 if you count trying without doctors), rushing home for shots, smiling through the pain, walking around with a heavy heart all the time.

My thoughts on IVF have always been, "if you ask me, I am going to tell you the truth." Which means that some people get more than they bargained for in the details department. My poor brothers. But, I was honest with them. I can't do this quietly, talking and writing about it was sometimes the only way through it.

I have only told a few people. I called my dearest friend next. I told her she is the one I call when things get surreal. She knew right away.

When people know you are going through IVF, that means they usually know when you are going to find out if it worked. They are usually waiting for a call, not sure if they should call you because they don't want to be the ones to upset you. I get it, I've been hiding out this week.

It is important to us to tell our parents in person, but I think my mom is suspicious. I know as soon as she looks at my face or hears my voice, she will know. I know that as soon as I hear her voice, I will blurt it out again. I am a terrible secret keeper. We invited them over for fried chicken and I have a gift for them...I have NEVER walked into a Buil.d-a-B.ear store in my life, until Wednesday afternoon. Someone had given me the idea of making a bear with some baby accessories as a way to tell people you are pregnant and that idea stuck with me....it will be something they can later give back to the baby.

I called another friend, the one whose bbq we went to on Sunday. She has been rooting for us all along and when I told her, she said she knew already. She told me that when we left the party, she turned to her husband and said, "Amy is pregnant." He asked her how she knew. She said, "Did you look at her? She was beautiful and so calm and just glowing." She said that if I wasn't pregnant, she would have confirmation that her radar was officially broken.

I always hoped that some day someone would use those words to describe me. I had a smile from ear to ear when she told me that.

When I went in for the second beta yesterday the nurse looked at me and said, "Even if I wasn't looking at your paperwork, I can tell you are pregnant. I worked in in an ob-gyn's office for 30 years and you have what the old people like to call the glow."

I am beyond thrilled to have "the glow."

Aside from the crin.one dis.charge, the daily est.radoil stomachache and my now required daily nap time, life feels amazing right now.

107

2010-07-07T07:20:00.000-07:00

I'm speechless.

testing my patience...

2010-07-06T19:35:00.000-07:00

I tossed and turned all last night. 3:14am. 4:22am. 5:06am. 5:45am. 6:35am. The pregnancy test taunted me from the bathroom. When I woke up for the final time I had decided to do it. I was going to POAS. My brain had been working overtime trying to figure out what to do and I committed to the decision. I grabbed the stick. In my sleepy state, I chased the stream and put it aside to wait for results.

The hour glass blinked. Blinked. Blinked. Then...B.L.A.N.K. Nothing. It was as if it was just turned off by an invisible switch. Can you BELIEVE it was a defective test? The only test I had. The one that kept me up all night. It couldn't give me anything and I was forced to get over it since the opportunity was gone.

9am. I called the doctor the second they opened to see if I could get the beta done today. By the time they called me back and said, "You know...you COULD have gotten your blood drawn today...." it was too late to get the results back today no matter what time I got there.

I got it done anyway. They said they should have the results first thing tomorrow morning (10 hours from now, not that I'm counting) and they will call me.

I hope I can sleep tonight.

I said I wouldn't test

2010-07-05T13:48:00.000-07:00

Thats what I said during our first IVF. I would wait until beta. Although, Aunt Flo came before the beta results, so what I said truly didn't matter.

This time, I said the same thing. I am not going to POAS. I will wait and if we are really pregnant, only then will I do it, so I can for the first time ever see what a positive stick looks like.

It has been easy(ish) not to test. I didn't have one in the house. I didn't want to spend $12.99 on a box of two of them. And the local dollar store is too scary, even to just run in and get a cheapie.

Remember when I said I didn't have one in the house? Randomly enough, a few minutes ago I was cleaning the closet and found half a box of unused pink capped ovulation sticks. Mixed in the bunch? A blue capped pregnancy test.

Now, I REALLY want to POAS.

Today is 10dp3dt. My beta is scheduled for Thursday, but I was going through some paperwork today and it said the earliest they would draw blood would be 11dpt. That is tomorrow. I don't know why they want me to wait until Thurs, unless it was just a mistake in scheduling.

So...stay tuned to see if the Hormonal Egg Basket uncaps the blue stick or if she busts into the lab for an early beta...

or both??????????

to be honest...

2010-07-02T07:29:00.001-07:00

Everybody mentions how much calmer and less stressed I seem this cycle and for the most part, that is true. There are moments, if we are being completely honest, that are not quite so stress free. Last night was one of those moments. It was fleeting, but it was there. A pit in my stomach that came from just looking a calendar.

I realized that AF is expected this Sunday (if my cycle sticks with the 28 day norm) and beta is not until Thursday. It just gave me flippy guts to know that I'm going to know one way or the other sooner than I thought. And of course AF is expected on a holiday that we are spending at a friend's house.

Which means I will be spending more time in their bathroom inspecting TP than out having fun. That sucks. I am going to say that I am not going to do that and that I am going to have fun and try not to let thoughts of "am I or am I not" take over, but I don't know how successful I will be.

IF has marred so many fun occasions. My memories of holidays over the last two years are filled with that half smile to C, where anyone who looks at me thinks I am having fun in the moments, but he really knows the torment behind my eyes.

I want to be real again.

Ok, enough. I am making sangria for the party (two versions) and I need to go fruit shopping. I'll have to wait until Sunday to see which version I'll be drinking.

Prayers from my Mom

2010-07-01T08:05:00.000-07:00

My mother has a gift of writing beautiful prayers. She has written and read one with us before each of our transfers and while our first transfer was unsuccessful and we are waiting patiently for the results of our second, these prayers have given us peace in the hours before each transfer.

I want to share them with you in the hopes that you might find peace in them as well.

Thank you Lord for this day, thank you for our children and for the strength and love you have blessed them with since the day they were conceived. Thank you for the gifts and talents unique to them alone. They have enriched our lives and the lives of all those around them. Send your Holy Spirit down upon A and C today as their desire for new life and family swells in their hearts and strengthens their love for each other. Give them peace and patience as they wait for the results of this procedure. Lord, you said you would always be by our side to love, protect and guide us. Be by their side today, may they always feel your love and watch over them.

Give them wisdom and guidance. And if it is thy will Lord Jesus, send them the miracle of new life. That as a family they will blossom in faith and teach their children of your love for them and their love for you. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.

and the second one:

Heavenly Father, we come to you today as a family to thank you for all our wonderful blessings. You know the desires of our hearts Lord. Please be with A and C today as they continue seeking your will for them. They are ready Lord to bring new life into the world

to serve you and fulfill their dreams of a family to complete their circle of love. We ask as a family that you guide the hands of the doctors, nurses and all involved with this miracle of creation. For thine is the glory and to thee we lay down the burden and stress that will make their life complete. Amen.

5dp3dt

2010-06-30T07:07:00.000-07:00

I was just looking back at my posts from March when I first started this blog, just before my first ever egg retrieval. The excitement and anxiety is vivid in my memory as I re-read my posts and I think about how different I feel this time around. A lot of the emotions are the same, the hopes are the same. As I read though, I find myself very different from that girl of only a few months ago.

More experienced? Maybe. It really has only been a few months. In-vitro makes you grow up fast.

Less stressed? Definitely. Even more now that we have frozen eggs as a backup.

I am definitely much more knowledgeable this time around. I am preparing for the best and as prepared as I can be for the worst. But, writing "the worst" doesn't sound right to me. If this doesn't work, it isn't the worst thing. It will be devastating, plan changing and will take a while to get over and move on, but we are doing our best. We are trying our hardest and when I realized that there isn't anything more I can do, I relaxed.

I am different from that girl who started a blog back in March. Stronger, tougher, smarter. More grown up too.

Transfer story, 2ww officially begins!

2010-06-26T06:49:00.000-07:00

Officially 1dp3dt and PUPO. We decided to transfer three embryos. It was something we sat down and discussed since of course going from 0 kids to 3 is a huge deal! The true likely hood of having triplets is very small, but still a possibility, so we needed to see how we truly felt about it.

When I called C to tell him that we had the choice to transfer two or three, he was sold on three right away. I didn't find myself hesitating either. I usually get a pretty immediate pit in my stomach when something doesn't feel right (like when C asked me if I wanted to move from VA to Albany + pit in stomach = No thank you, I love VA) and I didn't feel it. It felt good. Lets be serious though, I am slightly freaked out about the idea of three kids, especially since we have defined ourselves as the couple who can't have kids for the last 6 years. To go from that to mother of triplets, feels like a HUGE jump.

But, I am getting WAY ahead of myself.

The main reason we went with three was because if we transferred two and it didn't work, we didn't want to wish we transferred three. About 10 minutes before the transfer yesterday the doctor came in and confirmed that we wanted to transfer three. We both gave a resounding yes. The doctor said both he and the embryologist were OK with it because I was healthy and our first one didn't work, but he laid out an assortment of things that could go wrong and I started to get worried. *P.S. Not Cool to lay all that out 10 minutes before the transfer!* He left us alone to talk and I had a flash of doubt that quickly disappeared because of C's confidence and my favorite nurse who brought in pictures of her daughter's beautiful, healthy triplets (who were born through IVF!).

The pictures of our three beautiful embryos also made the decision easy. I looked at the picture and thought about only transferring two. Which two? How would I feel about cutting one of the embryos out of the picture? Not happening. Three it is!

Three embryos may lead to triplets. It may lead to twins. It may lead to one. It also may lead to my second failed IVF.

Whichever way it goes, it leads to a very exciting 2WW.

The Swollen Ovary Shuffle

2010-06-23T07:11:00.000-07:00

We got up super early and got to the lab for a 7:45am retrieval. I had been feeling pretty good all morning, just a few butterflies in my stomach, but we got there right on time. The paperwork from the doctor said no jewelry and so I fought with my ring in the bathroom and a handful of soap, but never got it off. I always show bloat in my fingers, so it was pretty futile to try and get it off. They didn't give me a hard time about it though and they didn't have to cut it off my finger, which was my fear.

I got a little wound up before the doctor got there because he was running late. I've been following directions from the doctor all week and the one that was starred and underlined was the arrival at the office for retrieval, 7am to start at 7:45. By 8:05 I was twitching. I gave my hubby the look and he went to the nurses station to see what was up. I think he also told them I was getting stressed out because all of a sudden there were three nurses on me distracting me like people try to distract a little kid with a set of keys. "Look over here!" They told me there is a built in buffer for situations like this and everything would be fine.

And everything was fine. Better than fine actually. I just got the call today and there were 14 mature eggs, 12 fertilized and we are all set for a Friday transfer! I am beyond thrilled that there are 5 to freeze. The idea of going through another fresh cycle (if necessary) was overwhelming at best. The cramps and bloating all of a sudden don't seem so bad. I'm finding myself smiling as I shuffle off to the bathroom.

Getting close

2010-06-20T19:52:00.000-07:00

My eyes are half closed and I just realized I am leaning slightly to the left and haven't bothered to straighten up yet. I'm wiped out.

This weekend was the weekend my inlaws were in town staying with us, you know the same weekend I was coming down the home stretch with the stims and getting ready for a Tuesday retrieval...I knew it would get weird and I wasn't disappointed. Overall, I would say it was a nice weekend and I'm choosing to selectively block out the part where I ended up in inexplicable tears on the steps at Mon.ticello. Everybody was understanding for the most part, but I'm pretty sure my father-in-law is slightly afraid of me now.

Anyway...

Ultrasound went great this morning. Our RE estimated about 20 mature follies and my lining was 11mm! I keep checking off the boxes in my mind at each passing stage and can't help but get more hopeful as we pass each hurdle. Hubby was a super hero giving me the trigger shot tonight (and once again I had the nurse mark the spot with a circle bandaid so there would be no question on where it needs to go). He mixed, he swirled and he injected. I just held my pillow tight and it was over quick.

The inlaws were gone by the time we got back from the u/s today and I wasted no time reclaiming the house and putting things back in order. In a world where I have no control over my own fertility, my energy goes into what I can control and after a big family weekend that means washing sheets, towels, dishes and bathrooms!

So, now what we have been working towards is so close. Retrieval is Tuesday, transfer will either be Friday or Sunday and in the meantime I have enem.as and douc.hes to buy.

This morning I asked our RE to print a picture from our u/s today. He gave me a quick funny look, but gave me what I wanted. I wanted something tangible, proof that this is really happening, that all the shots are doing something. Ovary twinges and unnecessary sweating are one thing, but I wanted something I could cheer on.

Come on follies, it is all you now.

Too Hot to Cuddle

2010-06-15T13:47:00.000-07:00

Good report today. 5 more days of stims to go. Meno-suck plus Follis.tim and Lup.ron. The RE said it looks like I have plenty of eggs and most of them now are measuring 8mm-111mm, which was a big relief for me. With this being our second IVF, I had been running a few what-ifs though my mind and I'm grateful things are moving along on schedule.

A few of the nurses commented that they were sad to see me back for round two. I'm not sure what to say to that. I'm sad to be back too, but happy that we are getting close and hope is starting to rise.

My mom said that she thought I was much calmer this cycle. I think that has a lot to do with me quitting my job, exercise and changing my diet to a much more fruit and veggie and healthy grains (beef and chicken seem to be making me gag lately). We changed gyms and this one is much closer and more convenient (same shopping center as Target! Hello Target...I always seem to need to run in there for something). We also know a little bit more of what to expect, but that also makes me look for similarities to last time and that makes me nervous that it is different and then happy it is different because last time didn't work. I just made myself tired writing that sentence.

I also feel like I am always sweating and even hubby mentioned I am too hot to cuddle. ;)

This time next week, I'm praying there are some healthy, beautiful embryos growing and getting ready to make my uterus their home for the next 9 months.

Staying chill till then.

So. Much. Burning.

2010-06-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

This is my first cycle with Menop.ur and the RE said it may hurt like a bee sting. May hurt? It burns so much that tonight (my third night) it was so hard to stick it in knowing how much it would suc.k.

I noticed I am super tired and just feel off after the shot too. Shots. There are three. Lupr.on (5ml), Follist.im (150) and one vial of Menop.ur.

I'm back in for blood work and an ultrasound on Tuesday and we are tentatively looking at June 21 or 22 for retrieval.

I have really felt that this cycle was going really quickly so far, but it feels harder than last time. I am really not digging this whole three shots a day thing, but I did read about the ice trick on a few sites, so I'll definitely be trying that tomorrow.

nothing like zero to tears during a 30 second commercial

2010-06-08T16:27:00.000-07:00

All it took was a commercial for For.rest G.ump to get my eyes welled up. Seriously?? I've had a lingering headache all day and now that I am home I can't seem to get dinner going. All I've managed to do was take my shoes off and sit on the couch. Then the tears from the silly commercial.

Blood work this morning went fine and I worked a half shift (two more to go!), so you can see my day was fairly uneventful, but still, the big tears roll down and my heart knows it is only the beginning. Menopur was added to this round and I'm not exactly sure where that fits in this cycle, although I'm sure we will be discussing it all tomorrow at my u/s.

Sometimes I can't wrap my head around the fact that we are doing this all over again. Last year I had a hard time accepting the possibility of even one in-vitro, now we are into our second.

I can picture myself sitting in the waiting room and I can hear the nurse call my name asking for the 1000th time if I have to evacuate my bladder (her words). I can see myself sitting in my RE's office with the big window overlooking a construction site and I wonder how far along they are since April. I can imagine myself walking to the parking garage, my ear to my cell phone filling my hubby in on the visit and I can see myself driving to St.arbucks (my after u/s treat).

These are the most intense kind of visions and I wonder if there will ever be a time when I remember these moments fondly.

as I sit here with a glass of red

2010-06-07T18:20:00.001-07:00

I look at the calendar and see that I have blood work scheduled for tomorrow, an ultrasound scheduled for Wednesday and Follistim starts on the 11th. I took a pen and marked yesterday as the first day of AF.

It's happening fast this time. Almost like everything is happening around me, but in a good way. Like a protective little bubble of hormones pushing me along.

Sip. Sip.

A bonsai tree...and other updates

2010-06-03T18:49:00.000-07:00

I started Lupron on Monday and my brother sent me a bons.ai tree in the mail. It is awesome (the tree, not necessarily the shots in the thigh). He wrote a sweet note about staying focused and remembering to breathe and I really appreciated both his support and tribute to one of our favorite childhood movies (Kar.ate Kid!).

As for that job I've been talking about quitting, they made it easy for me to do last Friday. I told them that I was going to need some flexibility with my schedule coming up at the end of this month for IVF and since they were cool with our first IVF in April, I was expecting the same thing. I was wrong. They started giving me a hard time about the time off and basically as soon as they started saying those words, I started formulating my resignation in my head (future embryos for the win!). It was done within an hour (although I gave them two weeks notice...one week to go!). I told them that as much as I enjoyed working there, I need to put 100% of my focus on what I am doing right now.

The day I quit I felt lighter. The radio on the car ride home seemed to only be playing my favorite songs, there was a thunderstorm brewing that brought lightning (which I LOVE) and it seemed like I only hit green lights the whole ride. It just drove the point home for me that I did the right thing. Hubby was completely supportive and although we will have to adjust the budget a little bit, right now, my job is IVF #2.

And I'm getting through it with a bons.ai tree.

and I'm also choosing to donate the boxes unopened to Goodwill

2010-05-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

Thank you to those offering extra support for me yesterday. I am choosing hope, but I am also choosing self preservation. After much thought about those boxes of baby clothes, I have decided it is ok to be annoyed by the lack of consideration of my feelings by my family and that I don't have to know those boxes are in the closet waiting for something that may (if we are being truly honest) never come. Who the hell needs that kind of constant haunting from behind a closet door?

My hubby volunteered to go through the boxes to make sure there aren't any notes or sentimental items and then he will bring them to Goodwill. I will then be completely honest with anyone who asks, that it was too much for me to get those clothes while I am right in the middle of a IVF cycle, that I'm sorry they paid to ship them, but I would have appreciated a phone call to see if I even wanted them before just sending me gigantic boxes and that I have donated them to hopefully someone who can use them right now.

I already feel better.

The fact that I thought I should be making the best of it was weighing heavy on my heart. I don't need that. I have enough going on.

I guess there are two ways to look at this

2010-05-26T12:54:00.000-07:00

My instinct was to be thrown for a loop. Upset and unable to find the right words. "Thank You" were the words, but the question was, would it be a sarcastic or genuine thank you?

This is what happened. I woke up this morning expecting my medication delivery. I stayed busy all morning, cleaning and painting (my stress reliever) and keeping one eye on the door.

The doorbell rang an hour ago and it was UPS. The driver was at the door with two boxes. Two? That didn't look right. Turns out those boxes were not from the pharmacy. They were from my parents who were spending the week visiting family and who were loaded with baby clothes from my cousins who wanted to send me the hand me downs of their little ones.

My cousins are great people who live very far away and who I really only talk to at family reunions. My family is very close and although we only see each other, at most, a few times a year, when we are together it is like we just saw each other yesterday. This is how I know the clothes were sent with love.

The timing was just incredibly sucky. Here I was, waiting all day for my fertility medication. I was fully expecting to sign for the box, put it on my kitchen counter (take the obligatory picture of it) and then put the cold stuff in the fridge and the rest in a cute bag (so I don't have to look at the pharmacy bag every day) and get in the frame of mind to start the next phase.

Instead I was standing over two boxes of baby clothes. Beautiful things for a girl and a boy and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe.

Then the doorbell rang again. This time it was FedEx with my medication. I know this box, it is the one with stickers all over it that say "Keep Refrigerated". This is the box that was expecting.

I called my hubby. I told him about the medication and the baby clothes. He said it was a good thing. He felt it meant that they are feeling confident for us and supportive of us, and that I will be needing those clothes soon enough.

There are two very clear cut ways to look at this. I could look at it like I'm being kicked when I am already down. Part of me was annoyed at the lack of consideration on their part that the box might be hard to get right now. If you have been reading, you know that I am struggling with this cycle and hope has been hard to come by. Or I can look at it like this...My Drug Delivery Day was lifted by boxes of support and hope for the future from my loving cousins.

I'm choosing hope.

Cherry Picking in the Rain

2010-05-25T10:48:00.000-07:00

Feeling a little bit better today. The support on my last post was exactly what I needed. I know I am not quite back yet, but I'm tired of complaining. There isn't much I can do right now, but take the BCPs and wait for the big girl meds (coming tomorrow). The plan is set, I just have to follow it and whatever happens, happens. All I can do is my best to keep myself healthy and get the bad stuff out right here.

We had a good weekend. Hubby and I went cherry picking in the rain high in the mountains and it was one of the most peaceful days I have had in a while. The rain kept most everyone away so it was quiet. The sky was gray and the bright red cherries and tall green trees were a stunning contrast. I talked to him about what is freaking me out this cycle and even though he can't do much right now but hold my hand, he did just that and it took the edge off for a little while.

A special hello to all the people stopping by from ICLW! When I started this blog, I had no idea that anyone would actually read it and now I don't know what I would have done without the support I have gotten so far. It is truly amazing.

I am going to go out today and give a little bit of what you have given me back to the universe today.

So Much

2010-05-20T19:17:00.000-07:00

I don't know what I'm feeling. My head hurts. I think the birth control is making me edgy and cranky. I don't feel like myself and I can't seem to shake it. I am anxious to start the shots and I am paralyzed by the thought that we are going through all this (for the second time) and it might not work again.

A customer gave me a hard time at work today. I didn't really deserve it, but I wasn't really giving her my best either and she sensed it. She also took the opportunity to tell me that I was rude and she was going to tell my manager what a bad worker I am.

She doesn't know. She doesn't know that I am tired. She doesn't know all the conflicting emotions on my heart right now. By the same token, I don't know what might be going on in her life. Why do we take our personal issues out on strangers sometimes? Is it because it makes us feel better, even if just for a fleeting moment? Is it worth it? No. I felt bad the rest of the day. I felt guilty that I was rude and I felt worse that she called me on it, then I was mad that she went over the top complaining and yelling at me.

Did I mention I have a headache? You must have a headache reading my complaints. Did I mention my in-laws are coming for a visit for 4 days just a few days before my retrieval? When my ovaries will feel like they weigh 500 lbs. and my mood is unstable at best. My mother-in-law asked me to be honest about what I might need while they are here. I am really good at smiling through frustration and then getting mad. She is very good at understanding people and she asked me to be honest. To say when I need a break. A nap. Quiet. I am going to try very hard to do that.

I need to do that right now, but I don't really know what I need. I know that I have missed my hubby for the last few days. We have been working long hours and we've just been connecting to eat a quick dinner in front of the TV and collapse into bed. I know that I still want to quit this job even though I don't feel like I should quit.

I know that I want this IVF to work.

Please.

I know that we still have a long way to go. The big box o' drugs haven't even arrived yet (delivery Tuesday) and Lupron doesn't start until May 31st. My own 2ww feels like it is a million miles away. I feel like I still have a huge mountain to climb and I've barely taken my first steps. We keep saying that this cycle will be easier because we know what to expect now that we have already been through one IVF.

But what that also means is that I know how much it hurts to get your period before you get the chance to get the first beta done.

I know that a few of the ways to get through this is to stay positive. To surround myself with support. To keep my hubby close and to stay honest about my feelings and what I need. It is just hard because I feel like I don't trust my feelings, am I really feeling like this or is it birth control messing with me?

This blog is amazing for a good rant. Your understanding is so valuable and I appreciate you walking with me.

I am walking with all of you too.

Questions

2010-05-16T06:56:00.000-07:00

I am ready to quit my job. It is just a part time job and it is one that I like, but it is just too much for me to go through in-vitro and work at the same time. I have only had one cycle with this job and I was miserable the entire time. Sweaty, cranky and a few times under a lot of stress because, as you all well know, last minute appointments and schedule changes are part of the process and I would be freaking out trying to call out or find coverage for myself (it is a part time job in a small store where I am often the only person working a shift).

I would have to close the store to give myself a shot of Lupron in a questionably clean bathroom every day and deal with cranky customers, while in the back of my mind, only thinking of embryos and shots and stirrups.

I used to have a job where I sat all day and I think it would be easier to go through this with a different job. This one is on my feet 90% of the time taking calls, dealing with customers and taking the daily break to shoot myself in the leg.

I hope I don't sound like I am whining. I probably am. I like this job. I want my next in-vitro to work. I don't think I can do both.

I am very fortunate to not have to work. The extra money is great and comes in handy. I like to be busy and useful and I don't want to quit and just sit around waiting for good news, bad news, any news. I don't want to spend the day sitting alone in my house counting the minutes until my next shot, but I can't help but wonder if stress from this job was part of the reason our first attempt didn't work.

I can get pretty wound up when I am stressed. And sometimes I feel like I am not normal if I am not worried about something. I can't remember the last time I wasn't worried about something...anything.

A few weeks ago things were good all around. We were healthy, no work drama, all family members checking in with good news and all I could do was obsess over a weird smell in the bathroom(!). Not normal weird bathroom smells. ;) I. was. obsessed. It turned out to be a pipe with a dry trap. Not a big deal, but the cause of searching the web, calls to plumbers, questions to family members. What a mess. I am only 5 days into my new cycle. How much more obsessive am I going to get?

That's not really my question. I want to know how you do it? How do you work full time, part time or a little bit of the time and go through in-vitro at the same time? Do you have to give yourself a shot in the bathroom at work? Do you ever burst into tears when it gets overwhelming? Do you have trouble finding your focus in all this?

Sometimes I can't find my focus.

Really dude?

2010-05-09T20:37:00.000-07:00

Is what I was so close to saying to the waiter at brunch this morning who went on and on and on in this weird sing song voice saying, "Happy Mother's Day to ALLLLL the Mother's at this table (which was only my MIL) and what would ALLLLL the Mother's like to drink this morning??"

That was the only time today got weird. How did you all do today? I was thinking about you all and praying for sensitivity from all our friends and family (and from those posting on facebook).

xoxo

On a side note, AF showed up. Today. Mother's Day. IVF Round 2 starts now. Go!

When you give a turtle you find in your yard a bath...

2010-05-02T20:35:00.000-07:00

...with the loving care you would give to your own child, its time to get this next round of IVF started.

My hubby was getting ready to mow the grass on Saturday and came in to tell me there was a turtle just strolling along the rock bed next to the deck. It is one we remember from last year and we think it made a home under the deck. I noticed it was dirty. So, I got the hose and gave it a little turtle bath. As I was looking at this turtle, I had a quick flash of what I want for the future.

I want to give my own sweet baby a bath in the kitchen sink.

I want to watch the hair of my baby dry naturally after a bath.

I want to wash the dirty hands of little kids who have been digging in the dirt.

And,

I want to help them give the turtle a bath when they find it strolling across the rock bed.

This is not the whole list. It is just what flashed when I turned on the water and ran it over a dusty turtle. I'm waiting for AF. I'm waiting to start our second round of IVF.

I'm wanting. And I'm waiting.

Tilling the Soil of My Uterus

2010-04-10T20:26:00.000-07:00

I met Carolyn today. She came into the store where I work and ended up being one of those women who makes you just start spilling your guts. I don't really remember how it started, but all of a sudden I found myself telling her (the edited version) of our IF story.

I guess it started when she asked me if I was a mom. All I could muster was a small shake of my head. Anything more would have started the roller coaster of emotion that I have been avoiding all week.

She told me that I will make a wonderful mom some day (I helped her with a small thing and she said she was really appreciative of my patience) and I started talking about how I just found out this week that our first IVF didn't work. She asked intelligent questions and made a point that stuck with me.

She said she was a gardener. She showed me pictures of her garden. She then looked at me with all seriousness and said she felt confident that one of our cycles would work. She believed that this cycle tilled the soil of my uterus and that new life would be started in there.

As goofy as it sounds, it works for me. I told my hubby and it rang true with him too. We have plans to do some landscaping outside this weekend. Tilling the soil inside and out.

It Helps to Know We Are Not Alone

2010-04-09T18:17:00.000-07:00

http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2010/04/bloggers-unite-project-if/

Telling The People You Love

2010-04-09T08:32:00.000-07:00

Staying busy is the only way for me to survive this. The moment I get too much time to think, all the what ifs and whys start hitting me in the chest.

I am working on a project for a friend right now and took all the extra shifts I could at work this week. I made a few fun plans with girlfriends and already have a new painting project lined up (for some reason infertility makes me want to paint rooms in my house).

There is one part I am dreading.

Most everyone in our family and friend circle knows our first IVF didn't work. The only people who don't know are going to be the hardest to tell. My mom and dad have been away on a cruise this week (with my mom's siblings). They left before we knew anything and we said we wouldn't try to contact them on the ship because I knew they couldn't keep a secret from the rest of the family if it was good news and I didn't want to make them sad on their trip if it was bad news.

Since we found out this past Monday, we took a day or two to come to terms with it ourselves and then slowly told the people who needed to know. I know that the first call my parents make off the ship will be to me. I know that before they left they were talking like I was already pregnant because they were so confident that all the hard work we did couldn't possibly not work (so did we) and I know that they will be the two most sympathetic and understanding people you ever met.

Why am I dreading it? I think it is just because it is my parents. Always the cheerleaders for me and my brothers, but always the ones to take it so hard when something bad happens to one of us. I don't want to be the one who makes them sad and I really don't want to get all the questions that I don't have answers to.

Its Surprising What Gets You

2010-04-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

The expiration date on the milk got the tears going today. So did a text message from my brother. Then more tears when my hubby was brushing his teeth and put his arm around me in front of the mirror and said through a mouth full of toothpaste, "We are a cute couple."

I told my MIL that our IVF didn't work and I didn't cry. When I spoke to my brother, I didn't cry either. Sometimes I wonder if I am faking my positive attitude, because just a few minutes earlier I was crying in front of an open fridge. It was the date on the milk. I bought the milk just after the transfer. I vividly remember looking at the date and saying to myself, by the time this milk expires I will know whether we will be parents.

The text message from my youngest brother was so hard. I hadn't told him yet and he was sending me a note to wish me luck at our beta tomorrow. It would have been tomorrow.

Ugh. I just want to change the calendar ahead to next month. I want to start fresh with new dates. I am the kind of person who loves to start new. Blank slate. Spring cleaning. I don't want to go through this process of every little thing reminding me of what could have been. Having to make all the phone calls and face to face talks with all the people who were pulling for us.

I just want to start new. But, I can't yet. I have to wait and go through the process. Right now, it feels like the process is going through me. I'm still floaty.

How long until I feel like myself again?

Overwhelmed

2010-04-06T20:52:00.000-07:00

I'm overwhelmed by the outpouring of support on my last post. I'm still pretty new to this community and it felt amazing to post my story and have people immediately understand. There were no questions. I didn't have to re-explain or give reasons. I could just tell the truth and you all nodded and understood and opened your arms. That understanding picked me up on a very dark day.

We haven't told our parents yet. Everyone thinks we were going to get the definite news by Thursday, so we are taking these days for us. We WERE going to find out on Thursday. We WERE going to have a beta Tuesday and Thursday because we were SUPPOSED to be out of town on Monday (the first day we could get the beta according to the doctor).

But we WERE NOT and we DID NOT.

Easter was interrupted by growing dread. We left early. The focus became survival. What did we need to do to survive possible bad news? We needed to obsess over Dr. Google (check), we needed to leave the family party early (check), we needed to inspect toilet tissue right up until the phone call (double check). We talked about our feelings. My gut reaction was "NO! I can't do this again!!" I said that to my hubby and he just looked at me with love and sympathy. He knows how hard the shots were for me. He asked me if I could do it if he came home early everyday to give me the shots. When he said that I realized I could do it. We both have made sacrifices, we are in this together and it was enough for me that he offered to do that that I realized I could (and will) do this all over again.

I wondered today if I grieved enough. I told two of my work friends today. The two who were on the inside, knowing why I needed last minute days off and why I had to go to the bathroom everyday at 6pm on the dot (Oh...Lupron, I'll see you again soon enough). Their faces didn't reflect mine when I told them. They were shocked and obviously hurting for me. I just kept saying, "It's OK. I'm OK. We're OK."

I am OK. But sometimes I am not. Sometimes the last five minutes of Dancing With the Stars reduces me to hiccuping, unstoppable tears and I know that I am grieving in my own way.

I have a picture of two embryos. I didn't name them specifically, but I could see how some people could. I just called them The Future. And now that picture goes in between the pages of my bible (along with my college acceptance letter and one of the empty, flattened boxes of Accutane that I took in high school to clear up an acne mess and photos of my family, a copy of our marriage certificate and a few other mementos of things that are close to my heart. People and events that needed protection.

I need protection. I am fragile and sensitive. But, I am also smarter, braver and stronger than I was before and I will face another IVF head on. For now, the focus is getting all the medication out of my system so I can be myself for a little while. I feel like I am in recovery. But, I know what to expect now. I know that I will live through the shots. I know that the egg retrieval is painful, but that the swelling and constipation will go away. I know that I can survive bad news. I know how much I am loved.

I just never thought this would be my life. I never pictured this. I didn't know.

Me Neither

2010-04-05T14:56:00.000-07:00

I got the call at 3:23pm today. It was Nurse Kim. "I'm so sorry honey, the test came back negative."

Negative.

I had a feeling. Yesterday I posted that I refused to POAS. As the afternoon went on the discharge got really dark. Black. So, so nasty. There were streaks of pink, then red. We spent Easter afternoon in a sea of google searches with no definitive answers.

I cried a little bit yesterday. More tears today. We left the family right after Easter dinner. I couldn't focus, I found myself comparing the color of my discharge to the middle of the cherry pie and realized I was no longer sitting at the table. I was floating above it, watching the family laugh and have a good time and all I wanted to do was leave. Come back to the security of our own home and agonize in peace.

There was more discharge this morning, but I went to get the Beta done. I half knew that I already knew the answer.

When the call came in, the discharge had already turned to straight up blood. I knew it was over.

The nurse was sweet. I know I will have more questions. Why? What happened? Did I do something wrong?

Right now, I just need a break. I was relieved when she said I could stop taking the progesterone and estrogen now. I need the break. I am ok. We are ok. If my body says this isn't right, then who am I to question it.

Sushi tonight. A few glasses of chardonnay. We are celebrating life. We are getting ours back after being so consumed with IVF for the past two months.

All is not lost.

Refusing to POAS

2010-04-04T08:16:00.001-07:00

I am finding that refusing to POAS is helping my sanity. I am 11dp5dt. The family weekend is going well so far. Just MIL has asked a few considerate questions, but no big discussion in front of a group which I really appreciate.

I had a big day of waking around yesterday and was exhausted when I got home, slept for almost 12 hours(!) and feel better today. I couldn't help worrying that all that walking wasn't doing my 11 day old embies any favors, but aside from a few twinges (that could have been anything), I felt pretty good. I did NOT enjoy giving myself the suppository in the bathroom at a Mc.D.onalds, but that isn't the worst thing I have ever done (remind me to tell you about the time food poisoning kicked in on the side of the road in the desert in Arizona in the middle of the night - with the man who became my husband!).

I'm kind of bleary eyed today. I feel hungover, but haven't drank a drop since the transfer (I'll miss you New Castle Brown Ale, but I will be so happy to give you up for 9 months)

Come on Embies! First beta on Tuesday.

Nerves

2010-04-02T06:34:00.000-07:00

...of steel? ...breaking down? ...non-existant? Yikes. I feel good. I am nervous. I am all over the map and I have only be awake for an hour. I'm barely halfway through my cup of coffee.

I don't know what it is today. Maybe it is the anticipation of family stuff this weekend... "How are YOU?" blah. Or maybe it is the estradiol giving me a (sometimes twice) daily run to the bathroom. Or it might be the Crinone discharge that is freaking me out! Or maybe it is that I am 9dp5dt and I have read other bloggers who have reached for a HPT at this point and I am afraid to do the same.

I just want to live in peaceful oblivion right now and get through the weekend without a vague HPT dictating how the next few days will go.

When dinner falls on the floor...

2010-03-31T05:50:00.001-07:00

I was tired yesterday. I worked a half-day and did some housework when I got home. Hubby was working late and I was making dinner in anticipation of watching my favorite show (LOST). But, the phone rang and dinner took longer than I expected and my favorite show started without me.

My mom used to make something called hot hamburgers when we were kids. It is basically a hamburger (sometimes on a half bun) and smothered in gravy. It is awesome. Last night, I decided to make them.

I was so tired. And clumsy. And when I finally sat down on the couch next to my hubby with my food with my fork in my hand something happened, my hand twitched or my head got distracted, I don't know what it was...but the rest is a blur of the bowl flying through the air, ground beef covered in gravy flying across the room, gravy and bits of beef bouncing off the floor hitting me, the couch, the carpet and the bottom two stairs.

Hubby jumped right up and got some towels. I burst into tears. Hard tears. Tears of someone who is tired. Tired of thinking about whether our IVF worked, tired of medication, tired of waiting and tired of not knowing.

This is the hardest 2ww I have ever gone through.

I am better this morning. The only reminder of the mess last night are my puffy eyes and a lone towel left on the floor.

2010-03-30T06:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday someone asked me if I felt pregnant. It made me stop.

I don't know what pregnant feels like.

I know what it feels like to want to be pregnant. I know what it feels like to think I might be pregnant and I know what being overloaded on hormones feels like.

But, I don't know what pregnant feels like.

I am praying so hard that this is the cycle. I don't want to think about the reasons it might not be. We are hoping that our trouble was just as we thought - incredibly bad timing with inconsistent sperm motility issues thrown in. If that is the case, then IVF worked. Right? But, if it didn't work, something else is going on. But what? I don't know. It hurts my head to think about it.

It is Tuesday already. A week from today will be my first beta.

Big family weekend coming up (it is going to be weird, most of them know what is going on...how do we explain that technically I am pregnant, but we won't know for sure until next week - well, I guess that is how we will say it. Or we could just smile politely and change the subject and then my head explodes over the Easter ham).

I am staying as busy as possible. When I had a lot of downtime during the IUI 2ww, I would fret. I hate that I can get so far into my head that it seems impossible to get back out. I am trying so hard to not do that this time. The blogs (reading and writing) help immensely.

It is going to be ok. We keep saying that we have done everything that we could do. Now we pray.

4dp 5dt

2010-03-28T17:11:00.000-07:00

Another day down. 8 more to go. The doctor scheduled our first beta for April 6th...then followed by April 8th.

Time feels like it is going equally fast and slow.

Mirror

2010-03-27T19:46:00.000-07:00

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

Sometimes I see a pregnant woman. Sometimes I see a flush in my cheeks and wonder, is this it?

Sometimes all I see are questions. Am I pregnant? If I am pregnant, what kind of mother will I be?

What if I am not pregnant this time?

How will I feel when I look in the mirror after...

the results?

Today I am 3dp 5dt.

The Closest We Have Ever Been

2010-03-25T10:24:00.000-07:00

Today I am happy to say I have moved on from bed rest to the "light activity" stage of my IVF cycle! I am officially 1dp 5dt. Yesterday afternoon, just after the transfer, the doctor said everything went as perfectly as they could have hoped. We are so happy and trying not to let this beautiful picture of our future and positive words from the doctor build us up too high.

This is the closest we have ever been.

I went to bed Tuesday feeling a combo of nervous excitement. I woke up Wednesday morning early, filled with peace and made a cake. My hubby has been craving cake and I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate a smooth transfer.

The fact that I needed to have a full b.ladder for the transfer was the hardest part. I never do it right. I was way too full and they let me let a little out (half a cup) just to make it tolerable. (They let me use the bathroom the guys use to do their collection...I never knew what it looked like in there! I had to p.ee so bad, I didn't even mind that I was going next to various posters of h.alf n.aked g.irls).

The actual transfer amazed me. The embryologists rolled in the cart and the whole procedure took less than 10 minutes. After 30 minutes of strict bed rest, we were able to go home, pick up some lunch and enjoy the day on the couch.

I am kind of bad at bed rest and got restless towards the end of the day. Today I've been doing a little more, but I'm still in my pjs and haven't done any cleaning today (yay!).

Still a ways to go, but I am enjoying my time as PUPO (pregnant until proven otherwise).

So many of our family and friends have been so supportive and tireless in their prayers and help. We appreciate it so much, but continue to ask for prayers and words of comfort as we try to be patient and have faith in the future.

Community

2010-03-22T07:42:00.000-07:00

So, about that whole Monday transfer thing...

The doctor called early this morning and said the embryos were looking great and they rescheduled me for a Wednesday transfer. I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole 3 day vs. 5 day thing, but she sounded excited and I'm just happy the little embryos were doing so well.

I am so grateful that we continue to get good news. This has been the hardest thing I have ever gone through in my life and most definitely the hardest thing we have ever gone through as a couple.

The shots were exhausting and were making me mad towards the end because it was right before daylight savings time and I LOVE taking pictures of sunsets, and of course the shots needed to happen at the exact moment of the most beautiful sky. I didn't appreciate the part about the sunset being God's way of telling me beautiful things were coming, instead I would shake my head in frustration and hate that we had to do this. Why us?

Why so many of us?

Maybe this is why. We are a huge group of compassionate women. We can help others. We write blogs, we offer support and lift each other up in times of fear. It is happening to us so we can go and help others. We will raise our babies to be compassionate and loving people. We will appreciate the value of family in a world where values sometimes take a detour and we will reach out to others who are starting their own blogs, starting their own cycle, taking their first shot with a shaky hand unsure of what the future holds.

This is my fifth post and I can feel the immense value of it. Of the community. Of all of us here to help each other.

Maybe it is the hormones talking. Maybe it is the excitement of some positive news. Today is going to be a positive day. I've spent so much time worrying and stressing and it got me nowhere. That is not to say the fear and worry is not right underneath the surface, threatening to take over.

The fear is always there, just not today.

2010-03-21T21:44:00.001-07:00

Today! Today is the day. Technically it is the day, although I haven't gone to bed yet and I'm not really very tired. We got the call from the doctor this morning who said he scheduled our transfer for 1pm Monday (tomorrow...um, today...what?). Anyway, I have a list of things to do in the morning before we leave and a bag of things to keep me busy when I am glued to the couch tomorrow afternoon.

Nerves helped me get the motivation to finish painting our spare bedroom tonight (it is a seriously awesome green) and I have some calls to make in the morning (the first being calling out to work). I waited to call out since the doctor said the transfer could be either Monday or Wednesday, but of course I am definitely not going to be at work tomorrow.

I am wondering about the progesterone suppositories. I have been taking them at noon every day, but with the transfer being at 1, do I wait and do it after or before or regular time? That will be my first call of the morning.

I'm also wondering about this bloating...I've been uncomfortable since the retrieval on Friday and I'm hoping it goes away soon (but the major pain has definitely subsided, thankfully)

I'm going to try to get some sleep...but before my head hits the pillow, I need to take care of some of this excess facial hair that came as a bonus gift with the fertility meds. Gross.

2010-03-20T08:53:00.000-07:00

Side effects, anyone? I'm hurting today. Egg retrieval was yesterday morning and went really well. We got there at 8:30 and by 9:15 I was drifting off after my shot of Happy Camper. The bruise on my arm is a reminder, but I don't need a bruise to remind me of what went down yesterday.

The actual retrieval went great as I mentioned. When I got back to my room my hubby said I was very cute as I wouldn't open my eyes and every time they asked me if I wanted something I just smiled huge and said, "uh huh".

The doctor said they got 17 eggs and 11 were mature. Based on everything we saw on the ultrasound monitor earlier in the week, I expected more eggs, but we were still very happy with that number.

When we got home and after I did the progesterone suppository (which I had a minor freakout about, since I left it in the fridge with all the other medication and didn't realize until yesterday that it was not supposed to be cold!). I was resting on the couch, watching 30 Rock DVDs and drinking lots of water.

But, the later it got, the more cramping and aching started kicking in and by bedtime I was really uncomfortable. My hubby had picked up a painkiller prescription, but I hate to take stuff like that, so I was trying to get by with Tylenol and rest.

I was stubbon and uncomfortable all night, peeing was a struggle, as was rolling over in bed. My neck and shoulders hurt and the swelling in abdomen was minor but noticeable by me. When I got up this morning, I had a hard time standing up straight.

So, I decided enough was enough. I ate a light breakfast and took one pain pill (instead of 2 - I didn't want to be nauseous or drowsy) and am feeling a little more comfortable. My abdomen is still really tender, but the neck and shoulder pain is significantly less.

We got a call from the doctor about an hour ago and he said, although they thought we had 11 mature eggs yesterday, there were only 7, but they all successfully fertilized(!) and they will call us tomorrow to confirm either a Monday or Wednesday transfer. I was a little disappointed that there were only 7 mature eggs, I felt like we did a lot more work than that, but I know miracles have been done with less and we are confident in the doctors and God's plan for us.

Prayers going up and fingers crossed, I'm off to supposit(?) myself.

P.S. I asked the doctor about leaving the suppositories in the fridge and he said, "no worries". Whew!

2010-03-18T14:43:00.000-07:00

Nice to have a day free of doctor appointments AND shots. I'm celebrating by sitting in a recliner eating yogurt. I remember the day before my laparoscopy in January and absolutely dreading the enema that went along with the night before preparations.

To get ready for the retrieval tomorrow, I have another enema tonight. Enema. I almost would rather have another round of shots tonight instead. I joke...sort of.

I feel off. A little excited and nervous too, but mostly I just feel like I want these eggs out of me.

Every once in a while, I feel a twinge in my ovaries, no pain, but maybe it is just knowing there are so many follicles in there and they are close to coming out that I feel like I just want them to be out already. I can't help but think about what pregnant women feel like when the baby is late and they are sitting around all pregnant and wanting that baby out. There are significant differences, but this is as close as I have ever gotten to understanding that feeling.

2010-03-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

"You must feel like an egg basket!" These were the first words out of the mouth of the nurse as we all looked at the ultrasound monitor this morning and we saw my ovaries overflowing with follicles.

"You are coming down the home stretch!" "Almost done!" "You're doing great!"

Everybody is saying such supportive things. So, why do I feel like crying or screaming or going to Target and buying a basket (there is that word again) of things I don't need.

I think I do feel like an egg basket. A hormonal, cranky, if I have to have one more shot in the thigh someone is going pay, kind of basket.

Today was my last ultrasound before my very first egg retrieval. Or "egg-straction" as we say around here when I am feeling happy and positive and not stressed and frustrated. I had an ultrasound yesterday too but although estrogen was high and eggs were plentiful, they were a little small, so "please come back tomorrow."

So I did. I got up crazy early two days in a row (the blood work lab is almost an hour away), got stabbed in the arm for the third time this week and then off to the doctor for another vaginal ultrasound (love those). But, we are moving forward as they say and the extraction is scheduled for this Friday!

I'm excited and a little nervous, but more than that I am just plain tired. Tired of the shots, tired of rearranging my schedule around blood draws and ultrasounds and tired of peeing on a stick for the last 5 years and seeing a negative result.

Since this is my first blog post on the subject, I'll give you the quick and dirty. I am a 34 year old woman (married for 6 and a half years) and for 5 of those years, my husband and I have been trying to get pregnant. We have never been successful, although there have been a few "maybe this time..." moments of late periods and sore breasts that gave us a glimmer of hope.

About three years ago (two years into trying), we decided to see a fertility doctor. We were living in New York at the time and started the process of figuring out what was wrong with us. Results, like for so many, were inconclusive and they diagnosed us with Unexplained Infertility. Awesome. What does that mean???? We decided that means that as a couple we have the worst timing in the history of timing. I guess that makes sense, my husband is a get up super early and then take an afternoon nap kind of guy and I am a sleep till noon and work late into the night kind of girl. Somehow that makes us a great couple, but incredibly bad at reproduction.

As life goes, we decided to move down south and with all the job changing and moving and distractions, we put the fertility stuff on hold and thought maybe a change of locations would be exactly what we need. So we gave it a year on our own. Nothing but faint glimmers and all the prayers and "good thoughts" our family and friends could muster.

At the end of 2008, we were settled in to a new house, life quieted down a bit as we fell into a routine and the peace of the country cleared our heads. We vowed to make 2009 the year of the baby. And we put everything we had into it. Time, energy, MONEY, we let everything else go by the wayside as the focus was getting pregnant. We found a well-recommended fertility doctor, we went through 3 IUI cycles, we prayed, I ate right, exercised, didn't drink coffee or wine, tried not to get stressed and did everything the doctor told us.

It didn't work. 2009 was not the year of the baby.

In January 2010, I made a slideshow of pictures of our history together (10 years together, 6 and a half years of marriage). We watched the slideshow and laughed about silly jokes and fun vacations. The last few pictures were of 2009. All of the pictures were of us eating or sitting on the couch. We didn't go to Thanksgiving with the family because I was having an IUI, we stayed local during the summer because I was having an IUI, we didn't do anything but sit on the couch and feel sorry for ourselves for most of 2009.

We were talking later that night about the slideshow. We both felt the same way. It was depressing looking at the pictures from last year. 2009 sucked. We vowed to do better in 2010.

So, here we are. It was obvious that we couldn't do this on our own, IUIs were not going to work and IVF became the new glimmer of hope.

As I laid on the exam table waiting for the doctor last week, I was on my itouch (thank god for wireless at the doctors office). My feet were in the stirrups and I googled "stirrups" just for the heck of it. I came up with Stirrup Queens and was motivated by all of the amazing women on that site and decided writing could be really therapeutic.

I have a lot more to say. But, it will have to wait till later. I have another shot to get.