Wednesday, September 29, 2010

One blob accounted for

Bigger clinic did have other instructions. So, this morning's U/S
showed a tidy little blob, right were it is supposed to be. Too bad it
isn't doing what it's supposed to. Still, a relief under the
circumstances. Most likely, the other embryo skipped town ages ago.
To make sure, I'll need more follow-up.

Bloodwork showed my hcg level has risen very slightly over the past
few days. The floodgates aren't set to open yet.
Possibly, I'll be offered medication next week, to evict the blob.
Pills of some sort.

Meanwhile, I've come to the the conclusion that a day in the office is
not compatible with PG failure. It doesn't matter how early the stage.
Really, I should have known better. But no, I went to work, cracked
before I even got there, and was practically packed home by lunch (by
a sympathetic co-worker).
I did manage to snatch some files with me to work on from home.
Somehow, the mere thought of facing people with a brave face is just
the thing to get the tears to well up. And then all is lost.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Bitter certitude

It's over. The U/S this morning showed nothing at all.
I wanted out of limbo, well I'm out. Not happy - rather tearful
actually - but out.

Immediate next step is ruling out an ectopic. If there's nothing to
see, where is the hcg coming from?
If bloodwork shows hcg is still above a certain level, follow-up will
be necessary.

I'm very, very disappointed. Even more so than with the clear-cut negatives.
I'm not utterly devastated (yet?), as I know I would have been before Linnea.
Linnea, my hero. I ought to write a post about that some day (is it
healthy to cast her in that role?).

My weekend was busy, distracting and pleasant. Before Linnea, it would
have been a hellish weekend, with at it's heart the celebration of
other people's fertility (celebrating a first birthday). But now it
was a nice family gathering.
I admit, if the final bad news had come Friday, it would have been
very tough to attend.

Edited to add:
Just got the call from my (local) RE. Hcg is not high
enough to be sure there's an ectopic. Nor is it low enough to rule out
ectopic. Another U/S on Monday at the latest. Sooner, if I feel any pain left
or right.

Bigger clinic may give other instructions, eventually. But I'm not going to chase
them this time.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Hopeless ... or hopefree?

After watching my phone not ring all afternoon, and then all but
suffering a meltdown while I listen to the on-hold music as the
clinic's closing hour creeps near ... I get the following message:

Hcg still rising, but not enough to hope for a good outcome. Schedule
an U/S next week to figure out what is going on. And bloodwork too.

The teensy bit of hope that had crept back in, evaporated instantly.
There's just no way this is going to have a happy ending. And if
that's true, I just want it over and done with.

Technically I don't have an appointment, but I'll head on to my RE on
Monday anyway.

Unless I'm mistaken, I would be 6w2d along on Monday (4 weeks and 2
days after retrieval). Remind me, would you expect to see a heart
beating then in a viable PG? I'd look it up, but I'm too peeved.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Starting week 4 of the 2WW ...

No new beta number - Bigger Clinic prefers not to tell - but the level
was higher.
A little higher? Double higher? No idea. I didn't ask.

Instructions are to continue the meds and come back for testing on Friday.
Depending on the results, they'll consider scheduling an U/S to figure
out what is going on.

For a few hours, that message made me feel a slight euphoria. Perhaps
the words the nurse used triggered it: "a good sign".
Different nurse, different style?

Feet back on the ground, it's still limbo.

Monday, September 20, 2010


What if the me of 4 years ago would meet the me of today?

Today me has lots of sympathy for the -4y me, struggling with primary
IF for 3 years already, after a devastating first round of IVF (zero
fertilisation) fearing that the next round will be the end of the road
towards biological parenthood. That was a painful place to be. I
remember it was painful, without - fortunately - being able to recall
the exact depth of my desperation then.

Would -4y me have much sympathy for today me though? I've made it to
parenthood, not only that, but Linnea is a delightful and easygoing
little girl. My top anxiety is that something will happen to take it
all away again, but at least I'm there now.
-4y me couldn't imagine that trying, and failing, for a second would
still cause quite so much frustration, hurt, jealousy, ... despite the
joys (and daily hustle and bustle) of parenting.
-4y me could imagine the desire for a second still being strong, but
would secretly think it's a luxury problem, compared with the first
time around.
-4y me couldn't foresee that being a parent would offer lots of
opportunities for salt in the wounds. As a parent you come across
other parents, who evidently don't struggle to have as many children
as they want, or worse, end up with more than they wanted.

Today me couldn't hold it against -4y me, having less than full
sympathy. I do believe that being the parent of one will be easier to
get used to, than being the parent of none would have been. And
parenting does make for great distractions from TTC.

The pain olympics solitaire? A good thing my former self isn't likely
to be coming around for coffee anytime soon.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Camp Limbo

I'm making myself comfortable for an extended weekend in Camp Limbo.
Hcg level today was 90.
Close to doubling in 48 hours (3 days have passed since the last test,
so I reckon the level should be 2.5 times higher than last time).

Higher, but not convincing - the words of the nurse who phoned me.
Well, they don't peddle in false hope - something I appreciate.

So, nothing conclusive, but I know I'm not continuing the meds for no
reason whatsoever. That's worth something, though it still feels like
clutching at straws.

Next blood draw on Tuesday. Unless I go on Monday, as the disobedient
patient I was today.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Full speed

First a confession: I'm assuming the worst. I can't be sure this is a
chemical PG yet. What's more, I'm basing my assumption purely on the
words used by the doctor.

I'm still sticking my head in the sand regarding appropriate hcg
levels on day 17 after retrieval (being 14dp3dt, right?). Seeing the
odds won't make me feel better.
So, in all honesty, I don't know exactly how bad 40 is.

Meanwhile, I have the impression that the bloating is all but gone. I
can walk at full speed again. But maybe it's between my ears - and the
truth is that I'm letting myself walk at full speed again.

On an impulse, I called my RE's office and asked if I could come in
for a blood draw tomorrow. I don't want to take medication for another
3 days, if I don't have to. And I'd like to know where this is going.
If the test is inconclusive, I won't be worse off than today.

Thanks for all your words of comfort.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

And one phone call ...

... can be enough to make it all come crashing down. Or 5 phone calls,
if you have to chase down those lab results first. Now, I almost wish
I hadn't.

The hcg value is less than 40. The words "only slightly positive" and
"no reason for optimism" were spoken. Abysmal, in other words.
I could look up the statistics on the net, but I won't. Statistics
offer no comfort when you fall on the wrong side of them.

It seems we have caught a chemical PG in the act. Instructions are to
continue with the supplements and test again on Monday.

What can I say - I got 7 hours of joy out of this HPT. That's more
than from the last 3.

Faint, but there

In brief: 2 lines on the HPT!!! I'm stunned.

This morning, I lost my nerve. I woke up just before my alarm clock,
thanks to staying up late last night. Instead of rushing to test, I
decided to wait. Lets not do the day care run in tears, facing the
wealth of offspring is hard enough on days like these. Then I decided
to go and have the blood draw done first. Why go to the lab in tears?
So I went, the nice lady punctured my arm 3 times without succes, and
sent me to another lab, where luckily another lady hit the vein
straight away.
I still didn't have the nerve when I got home, but curiosity won out
over waiting by the phone all afternoon. I dipped the stick, went out
to make tea, and came back - seeing only the control line on first
glance. Then my eye fell on the faint, yet distinct, second line. I'm
stunned, honestly.

And now I'm waiting for the phone call which will hopefully confirm ...

Saturday, September 11, 2010

11dp3dt: Hope perched precariously

In brief: don't look down. Still waiting.

Despite my not wanting to attach any significance to my bodies
signals, I have been listening.
I am still tired, though sharing Linnea's bedtime was a one-off.
I am still feeling bloated, about as much as before retrieval.
Interesting. Different from last 3 attempts, but I'm also taking 2
kinds of supplements this time.

Without in any way expecting a good result, there is a tiny ledge upon
which hope has taken perch. Good, it's helping me make it through the
wait. Hoping now won't change how I feel about the results - good or
bad. In other words, don't look down.

I could do a HPT now, but I won't fret any less until a beta gives the verdict.

Three sleeps left until beta day.

Monday, September 06, 2010

6dp3dt - Where's a spare candle

In brief: doom and gloom are lurking in the shadows

I find myself composing 'BFN' posts in my head. I think about when we
might do another fresh cycle. Need I say more?

I know better then to look for signals from my body. Everything is a
side-effect of the hormone supplements.
Even then, great fatigue is the only one that I can put on my list.
Going to bed at the same time as Linnea two nights in a row solved

How deep will I fall this time, that's what I'm worried about. If I
can't deal with the 2WW and the aftermath anymore, the only solution
is to quit.

I try very hard to halt the negative thought spirals, but I don't
always succeed.

Sometimes, just sometimes, an image of twins pops into my head. For a
fleeting moment it will linger, until I'm forced to shake my head at
the improbability. Getting one - let alone two - live take-home babies
out of this? Unfathomable.