Wisdom from the Stirrups


My RE is notoriously good natured, always jovial and joking. He always makes me feel comfortable even if some of his comments are a little off the cuff. I’m always happy to be dealing directly with Dr. M rather than one of his colleagues, or through one of his nurses. So when I found out he was doing my cyst aspiration I knew I was in good hands.

Having been in the procedure room previously for my egg retrieval, it felt familiar yet slightly frightening. It is a sterile room, so I had to be gowned up, booties on my feet and hair under a mesh cap, serious business. The last time I was in that room I was on some pretty heavy drugs so my memory is a little fuzzy. This time I felt very exposed, as it is just a bed in the middle of the room with a light directed on me. Normally when I am in for monitoring I can keep a sheet draped over my knees but more full access was required so I was laid bare and this time without J by my side. I’m sure I was just as exposed for my egg retrieval but at the time my state of mind didn’t allow me to care all that much. At one point the nurse had to press on my abdomen to get my ovary lower so Dr. M had better access. You’d think after everything I’ve been through I would no longer feel embarrassed or self conscious but I felt so vulnerable.

The nurse assisting with the procedure was very nice, and both her and Dr. M chatted with me during the process. He always tells me (and his other patients I’d imagine) that I’m brave whenever he’s inflicting some sort of discomfort on me. I always just tell him I do what has to be done in the circumstances. He told me people probably wouldn’t even believe the places I’ve had needles. I lamented that my friend’s husband is trying to play the pity card because he has to have a vasectomy. Dr. M asked me why he was having a vasectomy so I told him because him and his wife have 3 kids and the last one was an accident. As soon as the word was out of my mouth, Dr. M groaned and said “Accidents happen in cars, we’re all adults and we know how babies happen…it may not have been intended but it certainly wasn’t an accident.” Truer words have never been spoken.

He went back to joking with the nurse, how he’s been married for almost ten years and he said after a certain number of years the fires of passion cool, and nothing does that better than entering kids into the equation. To which I responded “So does this whole situation”, indicating my surroundings and referring to all J and I have been through. He didn’t have a smart remark for that. On that somber tone our discussion turned to successes and failures (with life in general) and I mentioned the failure of a friend’s FET cycle. He seemed genuinely saddened and expressed as much when he told me the clinic staff feels the pain along with their patients when they know they’ve done their best and it still isn’t enough.

Dr. M told me that parents always just tell their kids to do their best. But what happens when their best isn’t enough? When no matter how hard you try at something the effort you put in may never yield the results they deserve. He then went back to making fun of my tattoo and joking about how easy men are to manipulate. Though he may come off as crass, and sometimes flippant; he cares, and he knows the pain. He feels it himself when despite the best efforts of all parties involved, the goal is not reached. I’ve always liked Dr. M with his impish smile, and charming accent but seeing his compassionate side has let me know my embryos and I are in the right hands.

Hopefully the next time I’m in that room will be when one of my embryos is being transferred back to my womb to stay.

A Date with Destiny


I started bleeding again on Wednesday, for the third time since Oct. 25. I have still been taking Lupron despite the fact that at my last monitoring appointment I had a 5cm (2″) cyst, my lining was approx. 5.5mm and my estrogen was in the thousands. By rights I probably should have been cancelled but my Dr. decided to keep me on Lupron for another 10 days to see if it would help shrink the cyst, and lower my estrogen. I had my doubts and hated that I was told to continue waiting. I’ve felt as though I have been waiting for the inevitable; a cancelled cycle.

I was booked to do bloodwork on Saturday and have another monitoring appt on Sunday but when I started bleeding on Wednesday afternoon I called the clinic and they told me to do my bloodwork and come in today. Technically right now is around the time of my expected period (slightly late but that’s been the norm as of late) so more than likely the bleeding I had a couple weeks ago was just some breakthrough bleeding, and residual from my cancelled Suprefact cycle.

Leading up to last weeks monitoring appt I was having discomfort and pressure localized to my right ovary (where the cyst lives) and I was still having that pain into the beginning of this week. I figured if I could still feel it, it hadn’t gone anywhere and hence would still be pumping estrogen into my body. As of Wednesday the pressure had subsided and I was no longer having any pain.

Since I am having a seemingly normal period, and I can no longer feel my cyst I got really nervous for my monitoring appt. Nervous because I was starting to have a sliver of hope. I felt like I was getting ready for a really big date; I tidied up my lady business and shaved my legs last night. Laid out my clothes for this morning (for the necessity of getting ready faster, I had to be out of the house by 6:15 this morning). My stomach was in knots all this morning (though that’s nothing new for clinic visit days).

I got to the clinic excessively early, despite the slow drive due to the 3ft of snow that has fallen in the last 24 hours. Checked in, and second in line for my ultrasound, my morning was filled with a lot of hurry up and wait (a familiar theme in my life). To my surprise Dr. M walked in to do my ultrasound, even though the whiteboard in the waiting area said Dr. C was doing ultrasounds today. I was pleased to see him as that meant I might be able to get some answers as to what we were going to do now.

He asked if I was in for an FET baseline ultrasound (seriously, why do doctors not read charts before walking into a patients’ room?). I gave him a brief rundown of my situation and mentioned we were checking my cyst, lining and estrogen levels. I mentioned that I hadn’t been having any discomfort from my cyst and perhaps it had shrunk. As he moved to the right, nope, there it was. Big as ever. And another small one had developed on the left. I felt annoyed and disappointed but Dr. M said we can fix it, and that he would have to drain them. He went to check my bloodwork and speak with a nurse about next steps. As I was getting him changed I could hear him telling the nurse my estrogen is still too high (mother lovin’ cyst!).

As I came out of the change room the nurse beckoned me to come with her. She put me in a consult room and told me she just has to see if Dr. M is ready to do the draining. I looked at her, wide eyed “He wants to do it now?!” She told me yes and asked if I was busy today… I told her I was meant to be at work but could adjust. She asked what time I worked at and I told her 9:30 (It was 8am at the time). She gave me a bit of an eyebrow raise to which I asked if I’m going to make it in to work at all? She made a face and said she’d find out when Dr. M wanted to have me in. When she returned she told me I was booked in for 12:30 and that it wouldn’t take too long. As I left I called work to tell them I’m wasn’t coming in at all. No point in going to work when I’d just have to leave again shortly after arriving. Especially with the terrible weather and road conditions. They probably thought I was taking a snow day, but oh well.

I returned for the cyst aspiration and the prep was the same as if I was doing an egg retrieval or a transfer. Gowned up, I returned to the same room where my eggs were retrieved. The procedure was not comfortable. It is essentially the same as an egg retrieval without the good drugs. They only had to poke in twice as opposed to many times as they do when aspirating follicles, but still. They did use a freezing agent on my cervix and to be fair it was very successful. But once the needle penetrated and was going into the cyst, that was another story. Dr. M had a hard time getting the needle through the wall of the cyst and it was up there with HSG pain. But it had to be done.

When the nurse was prepping me to go back she mentioned starting my estrace in the next couple of days. Say what?! I was prepared to have to wait until my estrogen levels came down but apparently once the cysts were emptied and no longer producing estrogen the level didn’t really matter anymore as they will now be artificially manipulating it.

So I have a schedule, and it looks like this one is actually going to happen. Estrace starts tomorrow, continuing on with Lupron as well as five days of antibiotics for hubby and I as a prophylaxis. I have an ultrasound to check my lining on Dec. 8. As of today my lining is 5mm which still seemed a bit thick to me but my period hasn’t finished yet so it could potentially get thinner and Dr. M wasn’t concerned. I’m not so sure my lining will be at 8mm by Dec. 8 but they just want to keep a close eye on me since I have had so many issues. But if it is at the proper thickness, transfer could potentially be Dec. 13 or 14 at the latest it could be a few days before Christmas.

I am hoping for the former so I can at least get a beta (or more, if needed) in before we leave for Hawaii on New Years Day. I called J afterwards to give him the rundown and he says its going to work. After all of the setbacks he thinks this will happen, and it will work for us. I’d like to share his optimist… But I’m a pessimist at heart, and don’t want to get ahead of myself.

But I have googled our potential due date. And I’m hoping we can finish the year off with a bang.

#Microblog Mondays: Infertility Leave


Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.


A friend sent me an article a couple of weeks ago discussing “Infertility Leave” as the new maternity leave. It was an interesting read, it touches on how much of a toll infertility takes on a woman’s career and the juggling act that is required. It touches on the egg freezing option that both Google and Facebook are now offering, which shows that family planning is starting to be considered by some companies (though the whole egg freezing is probably a step in a different direction altogether).

At first, I thought infertility leave sounded like a great thing but after having it roll around in my mind for a bit, I’m not so sure. For one, it would mean opening up to your employer about infertility, which I know a lot of people (myself included) are not comfortable with. Secondly, even if employers offered it, I think there would still be a stigma attached to using it, and other employees would judge from lack of understanding. Overall, I think it would still be a hindrance to ones career, whereby using an “infertility leave” would leave you open to judgement, and being passed over for opportunities for growth. I know of quite a few ladies who have given up careers to focus on trying to conceive, or carry a healthy pregnancy. But is it fair that they have to choose? Or what about those of us who have to work? If your company offered it, would you take advantage?

Old Friends, New Again


The universe seems to work in a way that just when I think I’ve caught my balance, it throws me a curveball. I received an email from a long lost friend the other day. Long lost I thought, because shortly after I told her our last IUI failed and we would be looking at IVF, she disappeared into oblivion. She lives in a different city than me, but we used to email back and forth quite often, keep eachother up-to-date and occasionally meet up when one of us was in the others’ city (we don’t live a plane ride away from eachother, just a long car ride). To be fair, after she didn’t respond to my last email, I didn’t call her out on it, or try harder to get in contact. My thought was, ball was in her court, and the timing of her lack of response led me to believe that she maybe didn’t believe in the choices I was making.

Her and I live on different planets in most regards, her religion and upbringing make us very different people that believe very different things, but I was pleased that we could always be respectful of eachother’s views, and remain friends. She was one of the few people I confided in early on about our infertility, and she was very understanding and didn’t try to offer “helpful” suggestions. When she failed to respond to my last email (back in February-ish) when I told her we were going to pursue IVF, I was hurt. I thought it was a pretty important email but I know some people of her religion may not be ok with ART, and IVF so I thought maybe I had hit that line in the sand. I let it go, and received radio silence until this Sunday, when I was surprised to see an email from her in my inbox.

She apologized for not being in touch, that life had gotten in the way (for 10 months…ok whatever). She filled me in with what was going on with her, and asked what was new with me. Apparently her and her husband finally got a new family doctor, after not having one for several years. Her husband had testicular cancer not terribly long after they got married (back in 2010), but they caught it early, and treated it agressively. He ended up losing one testicle, that I do know, but otherwise my friend doesn’t really like to talk about it. She told me she had a full check up, and her doctor did a whole reproductive work up as well because she has debilitating pain when she gets her period (red flag!).

After all of her testing, her uterus was found to be in perfect condition, but her right ovary is almost three times the normal size due to cysts. She is still having that looked into, but obviously it’s not good. She then proceeded to tell me that a couple of months back her period was late. She tested and got a faint positive. She then got one of those tests that dates your pregnancy so she could see how far along she was and it was negative. She went to her doctor and their test was negative as well, and two weeks later she got her period. Now, as soon as I read this I knew she had a chemical pregnancy. She went on to explain this to me in her email, that apparently it is pretty common for first time pregnancies, but most women don’t even know it has happened and she just happened to find out because she’s been undergoing all of this other testing on her reproductive systems she’d been watching her cycles more carefully. She then went on to tell me that her spirits were dampened for a while, but they are back in the saddle and trying again (ok, didn’t know they were trying in the first place).

I do feel awful about her chemical pregnancy, and wish she didn’t even have to know what that is. But her wording, that it “dampened her spirits”, rubbed me the wrong way. Like it wasn’t any big deal to her. I almost felt like she is back in touch because she has some possible fertility troubles of her own. I may totally be mistaking her tone (it is an email afterall) and projecting my own shit onto the whole situation.

The whole thing smacks of the Sex and the City episode where Miranda finds out she is accidentally pregnant with Steve’s baby (who ironically also, only has one testicle) and Charlotte is doing fertility treatments to try and get pregnant to no avail. It’s nothing my friend has done to me, but the woman whose husband has one testicle, and her an ovary full of cysts can manage to get pregnant!? It’s hard to swallow.

My friend is a very sweet person, so considerate (though sometimes a bit oblivious), and very sensitive to others, so I am going to push past my discomfort and write her back. I felt comfortable telling her about our infertility issues because there was no judgement (until I thought there was), perhaps I could use another ally in my corner…

I appreciate all of the support for my FET and, the love from all of you wonderfull bloggy friends when things seemed to be crashing down on this attempt as well. I’d ask to have those good vibes sent to someone else who needs them more than me right now. One of my fellow friends in IF had her FET this past Saturday. Her IVF journey has not been smooth either but she managed to transfer 2, day 3 frost babies this past Saturday. Please send you well wishes into the universe for her!

As for our own treatment, my cycle has not been cancelled (yet…ever the pessimist). My doctor advised that I stay on Lupron until tomorrow when he is having me come in for a scan, and possibly some bloodwork. I haven’t had any more significant bleeding since last Friday, but some spotting over the weekend, and some remnants of blood still being expelled up until yesterday. If the bleeding I had last week wasn’t technically a period then tomorrow is CD28, otherwise I’m not really sure how to count things. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

#Microblog Mondays: Tears


Infertility has given me a lot of reasons to cry, yet I don’t. Why that is, I do not know.

They threaten to appear, sometimes with the tightness in my chest, sometimes with the chokehold on my throat. Other times they make it all the way to the rims of my eyelids but they do not fall. I don’t blink them away, or swallow them down, sometimes they would be a welcome release. A much needed outlet of emotion.

They come in unexpected waves, rising up at an unexpected turn, but never do they fall from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Perhaps they’re waiting for the day when they can be happy tears instead.

The Heaviness of Infertility


I started my Lupron injections Friday morning, and all went well. The needle is very small (and sharp), as is the dosage. I feel like injections are old hat as they became routine throughout the course of my IVF cycle, and personally I find the injection preferable to the 5 times daily nasal spray that was tried for my first cancelled FET. So after retrieving my meds from the fridge, and administering the dosage, I got ready for work and headed out. Around 11am that day I felt sort of weird, like I was having a lot of discharge (sorry, I hate that word) or something. So off to the bathroom I headed, and I was shocked to find blood. Apparently my period had started, on CD21. I was stunned, and horrified. I had to buy a tampon from the little vending machine on the wall (you’d really think I’d be a little more prepared and have some hanging out in my purse). I guess the pain and spotting I was having the week before last was the writing on the wall.

I called the clinic and left a message for them, advising that I had an unexpected arrival and I wasn’t sure what to do from that point. They usually return same day calls in the afternoon, so I was a zombie all day, trying to be productive but not succeeding. Nurse M finally called me back around 3:30, and her response to my situation was “You are one messed up lady!” (with a giggle). Yeah, thanks, I know. She told me that Dr. M wasn’t back in until Sunday (today) and that I should stay on my Lupron until then, and she would call me after they had discussed the situation, and what to do. She didn’t sound hopeful for the cycle continuing, as she agreed with me that this was not good.

The following hours were like living in a waking nightmare. I had to go to dinner with my mom and aunt, for my mom’s birthday and it was difficult to act normal, when my head was spinning. (I know, the fact that I don’t discuss IF with my mom is an issue for another post). My mother has problems of her own, anxiety and depression which leads to insomnia, which leads to more depression and anxiety. She is currently off work, and not in the best state. She has had these issues since I was very young, so growing up I haven’t always felt as I could lean on my mom, as she has her own demons to battle. I think this has a good lot to do with why I haven’t discussed our IF with her. But again, there is another whole post in there about her and my relationship.

My “period” had already stopped Friday evening and there was nothing all day Saturday. This morning when I went to the bathroom there was more blood, so I used a tampon but when I removed it later on there wasn’t much there. Certainly not a full flow. I waited on tenterhooks all morning for Nurse M to call, as they often call first thing in the morning if returning a call from a previous day. I had plans to go to the movies this afternoon so I was really hoping she didn’t call when I was in the movie, and have to be that person answering the phone. Thankfully she called about 30 minutes before I was about to head out.

The first thing she asked was if my period had continued to be full flow, and I told her, “actually, no”. I explained to her what had been happening and then she wasn’t sure what to tell me. Apparently Dr. M had just left, so she couldn’t speak to him about it. She asked me if I had stopped my Lupron, and I told her no, that she had told me to stay on the Lupron until she could talk to Dr. M to decide what to do. I had her at a loss, initially Dr. M had wanted me to come in to the clinic tomorrow, but now things had changed. She told me since I was still on Lupron, there was no big hurry for me to come in. So she is having me to wait until she can talk to Dr. M and she will call me tomorrow with the next steps. I’m thinking I am still going to have to go in eventually, and I would have preferred to just get it over with tomorrow, because now I have to wait one more day, and delay the inevitable.

At this rate, I can’t see this cycle continuing without some sort of miracle. I may hold the record for the fastest start and end to an FET cycle. At this rate, if this cycle gets cancelled, we will not be starting again until the New Year. We are away in Hawaii for 12 days for the first part of January, so depending on how my next cycles go, we may not be able to do anything until after we return. I’ve been very up and down emotionally this weekend. Sometimes I can put the pain, sadness and frustration down and walk away. But mostly it’s been the cloak on my shoulders, weighing me down.

One Bitten, Twice Shy


“Hello, Lupron”…[said in the tone of Jerry Seinfeld to “Newman”].

Today is the first day of our second attempt at an FET. I begin my Lupron shots this morning, and will await the start of my next cycle when I will be adding estrogen, and the progesterone to the mix. I’ve been somewhat worried that this day was going to be delayed again, as I was having some concerning spotting last week around CD11 – 13, and then some unusual pelvic/uterine/ovarian pain Friday and Saturday. I told myself I would call the clinic this past Monday if any of the prior symptoms continued, but fortunately everything calmed down. My best guess is that I was ovulating from the same side as my cyst and perhaps the rupturing of a follicle in the vicinity aggravated the cyst. That is a totally uneducated guess, but allows me to somewhat rationalize…

I am trying not to get too far ahead of myself in case there is some roadblock that I have not yet anticipated. My goals right now are to take my Lupron at approximately the same time every morning (7am). It’s not specifically in my instructions, but probably best for the sake of continuity, and routine. I also want to get to bed between 10:00 pm – 10:30 pm (which I failed at last night, not turning in until well after midnight). Limit my intake of caffeine (I’m going to be realistic here and not cut it out entirely), as well as attempt to get to the gym more (meaning more than never). I pretty much stopped going to yoga entirely after my retrieval…which yes, was back in July (the end of July to be fair). Take it one day at a time, try not to make myself do things I don’t want to (beyond reasonable tasks). I am trying to limit my stress, and by not doing obligatory or unenjoyable tasks I hope I can be more peaceful (or at least less stressed).

Life is still pretty hectic after the move, though we’re pretty well settled in our new place, but we’ve not had a lot of downtime since. Our new tenants are moving in this weekend, as well our new appliances are being delivered. We have quite a few social engagements coming up, Christmas shopping, holiday activities, parties, ect. It’s a bit of a tricky time to try and reduce stress. Although the holidays are an enjoyable time, they are busy. In a sort of divine intervention I found out I am over my allowable limit for vacation time to be carried over into the next year, therefore I have 6 days off in the middle of December. If we make it through the whole process, my time off will coincide with the transfer. I don’t plan on becoming couch bound after the transfer but at least the time will allow me to get organized for Christmas (since we will be spending it in the mountains with J’s parents), and then our holiday to Hawaii on New Year’s day (so looking forward to that).

I am going at this with cautious optimism, as nothing with infertility is a sure thing, not even the chance to make it to transfer. So here’s hoping for FET 2.0 to be uneventful, besides getting that embryo home, and keeping it there for 9 months.

On My Own Terms


This weekend we officially moved into our new condo. It feels like it’s been a long time coming, and taken a lot of blood, sweat and tears. J’s parents came on Saturday to help us start moving things from our previous home, on the second floor, to our new home on the fourth, and top, floor. You’d think it’d be a pretty easy move, only 2 floors up, but you still have to pack all of your things to get them from point A to point B. We didn’t need a lot of help, since our tenants don’t take possession of our old unit until Nov. 15, but we did need some assistance with larger items, and some of the cleaning.

We went appliance shopping Saturday morning, and J’s mom had already arrived just before we headed out. She was going to help finish cleaning our new unit so it was ready to bring all of our belongings up. We left for a few hours, and while we were out J’s dad and brother arrived as well and sent J a text to ask what they could start moving. I told J I’d really prefer if they waited for us to come home before they started moving anything, as I’d rather be there to supervise since the majority of our house was not packed and I didn’t really want them just chucking stuff in boxes.

When we got home they were just hanging out waiting for us, and wanted to get going as soon as we walked in the door. So, we immediately started disassembling things, packing items away and loading already packed boxes onto a cart to be taken upstairs. There were 5 of us all together, including J and myself, and I felt overwhelmed with the magnitude of the task at hand. Boxes started leaving, most of the contents of our spare room was quickly whisked upstairs. Our mattress was moved upstairs, so I began the task of taking apart our bed so the pieces could be moved. I saw my father in law leave with an armload of coats from our spare room closet, things I hadn’t yet packed were being thrown into boxes and moved upstairs.

Anxiety was creeping up my neck as I noticed an empty front closet, a cartload of a mishmash of items. J came in from having just taken our massive couch upstairs, to ask me where my keys were, when he saw me just standing in chaos with a screwdriver in my hand, looking lost. He asked me what was wrong, and it all became too much. I was freaking out, I told him, I didn’t know where my keys were because I didn’t know where my coat was. Things were just getting out of hand. I felt bad that I wanted everyone to stop moving things, because I knew they were just trying to help, but I needed to sort through my own things, pack them the way I wanted, so I knew what was what, and not be rushed. I told J that I appreciated everyone helping, but I would prefer they help with the big things and leave the smaller stuff to us.

J went off to tell his dad to slow down, to let us pack things before they got taken upstairs, and the flurry of motion slowed down. Later, J’s dad and I rode the elevator up with a load of things, and he apologized for getting ahead of himself but I felt as though he thought I was being a little unreasonable, and he just trying to be helpful. J’s family helped move the rest of our large items, and then J’s dad asked if they were needed any further. We told them no, thank you, but we should be able to manage the rest and they excused themselves to leave.

J and I spent the rest of the evening carefully and orderly packing, and unpacking things. We organized the kitchen to our liking, spent time deciding what should go where. Cleaning things as we went along and making decisions on the layout of our new home. It felt good, just him and I working together.

Earlier in the day when I saw J’s dad moving a load of coats out of our spare room, I also spied a little bib in the pile. A bib that I bought in May of 2012, just before we started trying for a baby. At the time that I bought it, I was buying other items for my best friend who was about to have her first child. I saw the bib which said “Daddy’s Little Monster” and I had to get it. J calls our dogs his little monsters, and it just felt fitting, and exciting for the new chapter of our lives that we were about to begin. After so much time has passed, it just hurts seeing that bib hanging in the closet. The closet in the room that was meant to be for our baby, instead filled with old coats, luggage and other odds and ends we haven’t had to find another home for.

I have fertility related products strewn all throughout our house. Estrogen, antibiotics and prenatals in the spare bathroom; a multitude of vitamins and minerals in the cupboard above the stove, ovulation predictor sticks under the sink; and a pregnancy book in my night stand. I hastily tucked items away as J’s parents were pulling open closets and drawers.

It felt like an invasion of privacy all over again. Infertility has taken so much. I can’t bear to look at the bib in my spare room closet, I want to throw out the pregnancy book in my nightstand (yet can’t for the hope that I may need it). I want to quit with the meds, I don’t want to have multiple doctors probe me multiple times, to be able to impregnate me without my husband even being present.

When first trying to conceive, you feel as though it is on your terms. You decide when to throw out the birth control, because a spring baby would suit you, you finally paid off the student loans, you bought the big house, you scored the big promotion. And so you try, with excitement each month, until the excitement starts to wane, frustration takes its place and frustration gives way to worry.

As I am about to start the meds this week for my second attempt at an FET, I have hope that some of it may still be on my own terms. Let the meds do their job, and let us please get to transfer before Christmas.

#Microblog Mondays: Looking Back, and Looking Forward


Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.


One year ago today, I had my first IUI. I was stressed because the day before, I couldn’t tell if the line on my ovulation predictor test was darker than the control. I was used to the ones that either have an empty circle for no ovulation, or a smiley face for imminent ovulation. I like my predictor kits fool proof, what can I say. But my clinic suggested a particular brand, so I did what they said. Held their word as gospel, if I just followed their instructions to a T, maybe they would make me pregnant. In any case, I decided the test was telling me I was about to ovulate, and went for my IUI the next morning. I was happy that it fell on a Sunday and I didn’t have to miss any work, and also thankful that it wasn’t any later as I flew out of town that same evening, and was gone for 9 days on a work trip. In hindsight, I’m fairly certain that the OPK wasn’t quite positive, and had I checked the next day it would have been, but then I wouldn’t have been able to have my IUI and the Clomid would have been all for naught. Obviously it did not result in a positive pregnancy test, and probably wouldn’t have no matter what the timing, but I was rather distraught over the whole event.

Looking back at how worked up I was over the whole thing makes me realize how far I’ve come. Not that I don’t stress over every tiny detail still, but I have come so much further than I could have imagined, and I’m still standing. Now I am looking forward, with hope to the future, and knowledge of the past. No matter what comes, I have it within me to carry on. Life does not stop, even when dreams change, shift, or all together end.

The Age of My Heart


On Sunday I had to go in to my clinic to redo my SHG, (my clinic does them every 6 months to ensure no polyps or fibroids have grown), but more importantly, find out what the new plan was for my next FET attempt. The SHG was a piece of cake this time. It was most uncomfortable when he inserted the catheter into my uterus but all the rest of it was rather dull. He took lots of glamour shots of my uterus. Everything looked good.

Dr. M moved the wand over to my ovaries, just to have a look, and again there was nothing going on with lefty, but when he moved to the right a good sized orb appeared on the screen. The cyst was still there, though I sort of expected that seeing as it had not resolved itself during my last period, as seen on my CD4 ultrasound. It also appeared as though I may be ovulating from that side as there was another smaller orb tucked in with the cyst. The cyst was measuring at 30mm but Dr. M seemed very unconcerned.

He was a bit more serious with me than he normally is. He’s a very chatty fellow, usually making somewhat off the cuff remarks regarding how he’s going to get me good and pregnant, yada yada. He was still sociable this time, but asked me why we were doing this again in a rhetorical way. I told him I didn’t know, and I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. He lamented with me, in a somber way I’ve only seen from him once prior; when he told us we’d be best to pursue IVF after 3 failed IUIs. When he finished he didn’t give me any indication of what was to come just told me everything looked good and he would see me later. I realise he has lots of patients but I don’t think he even read my file beyond the fact that I was there for an SHG.

After I got redressed I went to wait for the nurse. She took me into the consultation room, I’m beginning to get all too familiar with these rooms, and told me another nurse would come soon to discuss my protocol. They always put me in a room and then just let me sit and stew for a while, it is probably the worst part because I usually have some idea what’s going on so I worry, but I don’t know enough to be looking forward.

The nurse came in and had a new protocol for me. So I wasn’t going to have to wait long for my next crack at this. And luckily because my period came so swiftly after I stopped Suprefact I will almost certainly be transferring before Christmas. She told me it is a protocol that they’ve borrowed from another clinic and is usually used for donor gametes (as that’s actually what it said on the top of the instruction sheet). She crossed out donor transfer and wrote FET on top instead. The protocol is near identical to their standard protocol with the main difference being that instead of using suprefact nasal spray to down regulate, it used Lupron instead. That’s right, I’m going back on injectables. Apparently it is supposed to suppress better, since my body pretty much overrode the suprefact.

Dr. M is the one who comes up with the new plan, so I know that he’s looked at my file and decided the best course of action but I’m once bitten and twice shy now. The excitement over beginning anew has evaporated and been replaced with concern over the protocol not working. Besides subbing in Lupron for suprefact, there is no additional monitoring scheduled, and not much difference in the protocol. I peppered the nurse with questions but she didn’t have a lot of good answers for me. I asked about the cyst posing a problem, and she just asked me if Dr. M was concerned. I told her no, and that seemed to be that. I told her I was concerned about my lining being too thick, my estrogen being too high, ect. but she seems to think none of it will be a problem this time. She couldn’t even tell me how much Lupron I am taking daily. It just said one unit, she told me the pharmacy would know, and go over everything when I picked up the meds.

The only reason I had early and extra monitoring on my last attempt was because they had modified my FET schedule around my Vegas trip. At first, when the last cycle got cancelled I was pissed at myself for trying to have my cake and eat it to, berating myself for not just delaying by a month to make sure Vegas didn’t interfere with the FET. Now I’m wondering if it wasn’t a blessing in disguise; if I wasn’t going to respond well to suprefact, I would have rather found out when I did instead of getting so much closer to the transfer only to have it unexpectedly ripped away.

So now I am due to start Lupron Nov. 14 and wait until my next period starts. At that point I call the clinic, they will advise me to start my estrogen and antibiotics CD3 and then after 12 – 14 days of estrogen they will have me come in for a lining check. It still just seems odd to me that they don’t do any checks before then… If all looks good on my lining check (as in I am at 8mm triple stripe) they will start me on progesterone and after 5 days of progesterone when my body is artificially ready to accept my day 5 blast, it’s go time. I am trepidatious about even getting to transfer. I’ve just seemed to have the worst luck in this whole process and I don’t want to get ahead of myself as I am wont to do.

Because my SHG/FET WTF (is that enough acronyms for ya?) appointment was on a Sunday I was very dressed down. Normally I am on my way to work after my appointments so I am dressed professionally with my hair and make up done. This time I was wearing a ball cap, old jeans, my converse sneakers and a zip up sweater. I have a boyish figure, and I’ve always looked younger than I am (I’m starting to appreciate this, but did not as much when I was a teenager). As I left the clinic, the nurse patted me on the arm and said “you look so young”. She said it almost in a sad way, like I was too young to be there.

In the grand scheme of things I am still considered young, at 27 years old. Especially given the fact that we are dealing with MFI, I am in an excellent position for IF treatment. People will say time is on my side and that I have lots of it. Though this may all be true, I feel as I’ve aged well beyond my years through this process. I may appear young, but ask me the age of my heart.