Thursday, March 31, 2011

And cue tears

Indeed, another BFN.

Not unexpected, but no matter how many times I've been here, the pain
it causes is just as sharp.

I managed to make it to the ladies' before breaking down at the office.
I even managed to plow through the rest of the day dry-eyed.
Tomorrow I've taken the day off. Small mercies.

To the news, DH replied how lucky we are to have Linnea. So did a friend.
I feel slapped on the wrist for not being grateful enough. I'm not
allowed to feel pain at yet another failure?

I know, I know, gracefully accept support as it is intended. But
between you and me, I think there should be a 24h waiting period
before uttering 'count your blessings' in any shape or form. Perhaps
even 48h.

Of course I'm grateful that I have Linnea. Each BFN freaks me out even
more that something will happen to her. A belated dropping of the
other shoe so to speak. Insisting on gratefulness alone feeds my
anxiety, and that can't be good either for me or for her.

If anything, I've earned the right to feel grief next to that gratefulness.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

No news is no news

So, I've kept my head stuck in the sand. No HPT, no call to the
clinic, cell phone turned off.

I'm much more fed up with ART than I realized.

Also, the situation at work has taken a serious turn for the worse.
Stress levels have gone up.
New management, new rules, yadda yadda ....

Work stress + ART stress = me on the verge of breaking.
Knock on wood - but I hope no new major stress factors come rolling in.

Perspective, perspective, I can't seem to find it.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Bloodwork? What bloodwork!

Oh yes, somewhere between the lab and the clinic (different entities),
the results of my bloodwork got lost. Again.

By the time I got on the phone to sort it out, it was past clinic
opening hours. So no results today.
And the lab doesn't give out results on the phone - except to
registered physicians. Sensible policy, but at a time like this

What can I say? Ignorence is bliss.

I didn't POAS. I still haven't, and probably won't tomorrow.
Will switch off my cell phone again too at work. I know my limits, I
can't take that call at work.

In any case, the clinic's instructions would have been the same
regardless of the results. Continue with meds, test again in two days.

It could have been worse, they could have switched my results. It
happens, sometimes with dramatic results.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Deeper in hiding

More proof of dwindling hope...

  • leaving for work without my meds, noticing and having to turn back (hadn't gotten far fortunately).
  • receiving leftover early test HPTs from a friend, but deciding against using them (can't face their whiteness).
  • planning to switch of my cell phone tomorrow until I leave from work (can't face the call).

Roccie hits the nail on the head. I know that drinking moderate
amounts of coffee won't make the difference, (thanks to Thalia who
wrote a post on just this a good while back). Still, I tried to go
without during the 2WW, but not any more.

First blood test tomorrow. The results should reach me eventually,
though I'm not sure I'll chase them.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

In hiding

Feeling low on hope is ...

... running out of folic acid twice, in one cycle.
... drinking coffee in the 2 WW.
... stocking more sanitary supplies.
... not buying HPTs - why pay good money for bad news that will be
delivered for free?

Hope is hiding, and to be honest I prefer it that way.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

After the jump

A post about parenting, a short one.

I'm not much of a mommy blogger, that much I've proven. Sometimes, I
do want to post about parenting after IF, but I always feel a bit
apprehensive for reasons I don't have to spell out.
To overcome that, I'll label the posts 'after the jump' in the title.

Linnea - like any 3yo - is curious about the human body. Yesterday,
whilst getting ready for bed, she pointed to her chest and asked what
'those' were.

Deflect or truth? I decided on the latter. "Those are called nipples.
When you grow to be a woman, like your mom, you might have a baby and
then milk comes out to feed the baby with". A look of wonder.
Curiosity satisfied, for now.

I said 'you might have a baby', on purpose. I didn't make a big deal
out of it, and I don't think it registered with her, and that's ok.
One day she will, and that's ok too. When she asks, I will explain.

Since Linnea was born, I've been wondering whether she'll have to go
through IF too.
Because we don't want to spring the message on her when she's a teen
or a young adult, we've decided to start telling her at a young age.

To start with, we've explained to her our struggle to give her a
sibling. Not in detail, just the broad lines. She's met the RE that
helped us have her and we explained he was helping us give her a
sibling. When we were out the door - she demanded to know where he had
hidden her little brother (me too, kiddo!).

So far, we feel this approach is working for us. I don't look forward
to the day she'll inevitably share her story with her pre-school
teacher and classmates. But it's a price we're willing to pay.

I'd like to hear your thoughts on telling early or not telling early -
whether or not this comes from experience or is still hypothetical.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Today no tears

No indeed, because we did make it to transfer. Our last two embryos
survived thaw and were both transferred today. Hurray for

The hoped for, but unexpected, good news left me feeling a bit giddy.
I breezed into the clinic like a tourist going back to a much-visited
destination. Look, there's my favorite ice-cream parlor... I even
chatted with the woman sharing my room, something I usually don't do
(fortunately she was ok with that).

Apart from the odd feeling of nostalgia (because the end - with my/our
genes - is near?), I don't feel much hope for this FET. Sure, hope
will creep in as the testing day draws near, but in a way it seems too
laughable a notion to even entertain. Good thing I have you to hope
for me (optionally with clown's nose on).

First beta in a mere 9 days (actually to check I'm taking my meds
properly). Unfortunately I'm out of high-end HPTs, I only have one
single cheaper brand left. I'm reluctant to waste money on new ones.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Hack. Wheeze.

I sound like a long-time chain smoker and am just as short of breath.
Only the copious amounts of snot betray that I in fact have a nasty
So nasty that I spent the better part of last week moving from the
couch to my bed or vice versa. I've improved just enough to have to go
back to work.

The fog in my head made me forget my meds repeatedly, despite the
reminders in my phone. It doesn't seem to have mattered much, because
the clinic said I'm ready for transfer this weekend. They've brazenly
'scheduled' a transfer, I prefer to think of it as unscheduling all my
other plans. I do hope the thaw will leave something to transfer, but
I'm not counting on it. And that's about as far as my hope reaches at
this point.

I'm following the news of the disastrous events in Japan with a mixture of horror, disbelief and sadness. I can't begin to imagine the loss some people there are facing.
As for the nuclear disaster, I'm reluctant to think about it too much. Inevitably, I start questioning the wisdom of bringing more children into this world.

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Back to back

I thought back to back FETs meant 'in quick succession'. That's not
how it feels.

Once my period showed, they'd let me start taking the meds to build up
a new lining. Right?
Wrong! Continue with the suppressants for a week, then blood draw.

All right, but then surely I'll get to start. Right?
Wrong. The suppressants are working, continue for another week, then
blood draw and u/s.

What?! I've been on suppressants since January! Why wouldn't they be
working all of the sudden?
The nurse patiently explained that even after a completely medicated
cycle they have to recheck down-regulation.

So, cue blood draw and u/s this morning ... showing one or two
follicles misbehaving developing.
Oh no - they'll cancel now, surely.
Wrong! My hormone levels are low enough, so we keep moving.

At least that's something. Though after my last conversation with my
doctor it feels very much like an exercise in futility.

I'm doing ok as long as I keep busy. When I'm with Linnea, I'm
generally* very happy. But whenever there's a lull, I start thinking
about IF, and I feel miserable.

*I'll be honest, not all parts of the parenting experience are equally
fulfilling. A quick dash to the corner store turning into a long
expedition with a child determined to drag it as long as possible -
part and parcel of parenthood - but not my favourite part.