Permission to stop with the progesterone-Approved.
Go back Monday for ultrasound, *hopefully* the final beta and What The Fuck meeting with Dr. G.
If any one needs me-you’ll know where I’ll be.
Permission to stop with the progesterone-Approved.
Go back Monday for ultrasound, *hopefully* the final beta and What The Fuck meeting with Dr. G.
If any one needs me-you’ll know where I’ll be.
I don’t even test for pregnancy anymore-there is no need to test–I can tell as soon as there is something going on in that uterus of death of mine. My body is so sensitive to the increase in progesterone/estrogen that happens around the time of implantation (when normally if not pregnant the progesterone would be decreasing) that it triggers a very specific type of headache that I have now become all too familiar with.
You see, I have a sensitivity to progesterone/estrogen-didn’t realize it until I was in my freshmen year of college-and had been suffering with migraines for 2 years. My junior year in High School I went on birth control pills and within 6 months of being on them, I started having headaches–but just chalked them up to not enough sleep or water. My senior year the headaches were no longer headaches-they were full on migraines. I went to a doctor and they gave me a medication called cafergot-it was horrible and did nothing but make me jittery while I was struggling with the migraine. Never once did my doctor’s attribute the headaches to my birth control pills-they just kept changing the migraine meds to see if one would work.
By the middle of my first semester in college-the migraines were getting insane-and not even the injector immitrex pen could get them to stop. As usual with me-things have to get horribly bad before they get better-I went home (to my dad’s-my mom and I had a falling out the end of my junior year in High School that lead to me living with my best friend to finish off my senior year and never wanting to see my mother *EVER* again) for Christmas break. I proceeded to have what was labeled as a grand mal seizure (of course it started in the shower when I was home alone and then was unconscious on the bathroom floor for 4 hours)-and then stuck in the hospital for 3 days while they tested me for illegal drugs. They found nothing-which I told them they wouldn’t, so they did CAT scans, MRI’s, sent me to a neurologist for brain wave mapping and then decided I was probably an epileptic (not because they found anything but because they couldn’t find anything and they claimed I had a seizure), and then put me on anti seizure medication.
You can’t make this shit up, can you?
While on the daily anti seizure meds (that were going to make me loose my drivers license because apparently it isn’t legal to be an epileptic and drive,) I was still taking that stupid fucking birth control pill-and sure enough 3 days after being sent home from the hospital-my Dad got to see what it was like to be me during a migraine. The migraine he saw me trying to get through was no different than the ones I was getting at school-I was doing the usual things I did there, camped out under a blanket with a window open so that it was a dark and cold as possible, lean over and puke in the trash can (cause there was no way I could come into the lighted hall and get all the way down to the ladies room on my dorm floor) when the waves of nausea got to be too much. The only difference was he could actually see me going through it. The migraine had started while he was at work-when he got home that evening he made it about 4 hours before he was freaked out enough that he scooped me up and rushed me back to the hospital. There in a dark room the attending physician gave me a shot of demerol and phenergan in my arse and stopped the migraine dead. Again-never thinking potentially it could be the stupid birth control.
My older brother had been visiting my Dad that week as well, and the day after my migraine-he went up to visit my mom who lived a couple hours north. My mom and I were still not on speaking terms at the time, but luckily-my brother told my mom what the hell had been going on with me, and she called my dads house immediately. Turns out, my mom was insanely sensitive to birth control pills-started with headaches, progressed into migraines and eventually she came off the pills to make a baby and the migraines stopped. She went back on them after giving birth and almost immediately-the migraines sparked up again. She stopped taking the pills to get the migraines to stop because it was impossible to manage a toddler and a newborn and a migraine.
She said stop taking the birth control pill, and I did.
And never again did I have another one of those migraines-that is until my IVF cycle in October. Because I didn’t realize at the time that the 2 active drugs in the birth control pills were a combo pf progesterone and estrogen-I thought nothing of following the drug protocl for the 2 week wait of that IVF cycle which was jam my v-jay full of progesterone gel daily and take 6 pills of estrogen a day. Well fuck me running by the 4th day of that-I had a headache. That stupid headache would NOT go away, then I realized after the 5th day of it that I remembered this type of headache (it had been16 years but boy did I remember)-I googled and of course, nearly shat myself when I realized how much fun I was going to be having during these medicated cycles if I wasn’t pregnant right now-because it is the same combo of drugs found in birth control pills only higher doses!
As soon as I stopped taking the drugs during that 2ww in November-the headache vanished. BUT weirdly enough, the next month (December) at 10 DPO of a natural cycle, I was in bed trying to shake off that same type of headache-wondering what the hell was going on since I wasn’t on any drugs-so my only other thought was hmmnnn-maybe its my body increasing these hormones on its own because I’m pregnant? No, that can’t be, I’ve just failed 5 months of fertility treatments-no way can I be pregnant after having sex only once during my peak window this cycle. So I tested, and sure enough, 5 mins later-it was a big fat negative so I went back to bed and I laughed at myself for thinking I could be pregnant. 3 hours later, still with headache-I wanted to take a fist full of excederin but just to make sure, I went to the bathroom and pulled that pee stick out of the trash-
and sure enough there was *something* there.
Here, see for yourself, this image is straight out of camera-the only adjustment I made was to resize it for you:
You don’t see anything do you?
Of fucking course not, they never photograph well when they are this light.
Welcome to my hell!
I know I’m pregnant. I can see something, but no one else can. Trash picking, slightly turning the stupid stick you peed on every which way to get the best view. Second guessing yourself, thinking you’ve willed yourself to see another line that’s not really there…
Thank god for photoshop is all I have to say.
Here is that exact same photo only I tweaked in photoshop to bring out the line that I knew was there-and by tweaked I mean adjusted the exposure, not painted in a line that wasn’t there…
That pee stick was dipped an hour before I had my blood drawn for a beta blood pregnancy test. The line you are looking at-is when your beta level is a 6. Anything less than 5 is clinically not pregnant. I was pregnant, but just barely. That headache told me BEFORE I could test positive on either of those tests that something was going on.
I felt that headache again when I was editing a photo shoot I had done with a friend of mine the weekend in April before I flew out for our Turks vacation this year. I was 1 week into the 2 week wait of an FSH/IUI cycle where I had triggered a week before so I was still testing slightly positive for pregnancy because of the hcg trigger shot. However, the line should be fading at that point-so after 3 hours of that headache-I took a second pregnancy test for that day and sure as shit, the line is clearly darker than the one I had taken that morning.
Yep, I was making some hcg of my own and my headache told me first.
The following week I’m on vacation-thinking I’m not pregnant because I only had 1 mature egg at trigger and I had seen the line fade out to negative a couple days before we flew out, and I took a test at 14DPO that was a BFN and I’m bleeding out the V-jay for 3 days. These are all the reasons I’m dead sure that I’m not pregnant. By 2pm in the afternoon on Wednesday my head hurts so bad I tell the boys and Christine, I’m gonna head up to bed and take a nap because I’ve drunken myself into a serious day time hang over. I take 3 excederine, and I snuggle my shit down for a nice little nap. I wake up, headaches gone and I go about my drinking crazy ways for 2 more days never once thinking I should pee on a stick. The morning before we fly out, I go to take my “not pregnant” digital shot out on the balcony for my blog post and mother fucker-its positive. I should have known better, I know that headache by now.
I told myself I will never doubt that headache again-it’s been right 3 times in a row.
Fast forward to last Friday, I again know I am not pregnant and to help add some sardonic humor to a BFN cycle, I decide lets pee on a fancy stick, and turn it into my “baby.” This will be fun as I can play with my new lens that’s for newborn photoshoot’s that I haven’t been able to do because I don’t fucking have one-and at the same time, make me laugh- because, well it’s funny.
About an hour into my funny shoot, my head is hurting so bad I’m thinking I might need to go puke. I’m no dummy at this point, I embrace the headache-because truth be told I start praying for that damn thing at 7dpo. I give it a couple hours, and go pee on a stick and here’s the unedited, straight out of camera hell I’m thrusted into friday at 4pm:
I know, I know, you don’t see it.
Here’s the slightly tweaked version of the same exact photo:
And if you still can’t see it on that one-then here’s a serious tweaking of the same exact photo:
Fuck me running.
Yet another one bites the dust.
No fucking way. This is not normal.
Don’t worry-I didn’t ruin my husbands birthday yesterday-the poor man had just returned early Friday morning from burying his uncle and was at work when all this was going down. Being wise in my ways, I decided not to share this development right away. Luckily he was so tired when he got home, he went straight to bed at 7pm giving me time to take another test before I went to bed to see what was going on with the line.
9pm I tested after a 5 hour hold-and got nothing.
I woke up at 5am after holding for 8 hours and double checked the 9pm test from Friday and peed again-and NOTHING!
Happy Birthday Honey! You get another chemical pregnancy -aka miscarriage so early no doctor even gives a shit.
I’m sure it’s exactly what you wished for right?
I did tell him, but only later in the day yesterday-and more like, hey just wanted you to know I got my period but the same thing happened again. He didn’t even say anything. We’re just so fucking damaged it’s like a non event.
So there you have it, a glimpse into my hell.
Just Ugh. I haven’t been back here in so long because I have been avoiding all of this shit because it makes me severely frustrated, and sad. So sad because I really do believe my chances of carrying a healthy pregnancy to term is slim to none and slim died last week. I have so much to bring you all up to date on-I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I will start with the douche nurse appointment on the 5th of May, the subsequent phone call I received in the afternoon while I was drugged up on xanax from DN after I lost my shit that morning and finish with the WTF appointment I had on the 16th of May which was essentially a waste of my time.
Even though I requested the Recurrent Pregnancy Loss workup after my miscarriage back in December (at that point I think everyone would unanimously agree I had had my second miscarriage considering how I was testing positive for pregnancy, and then I wasn’t before I delivered a healthy baby). I was denied that request and even told “that there is no reason for alarm.” I stupidly didn’t think to tell them I won’t take no as an answer to my request and to run the damn tests anyways, instead I believed them -I guess part of me wanted to believe them because then that means there is no reason for alarm, right? At the very least I should have at least questioned them to see what would be the red flag that would have them alarmed enough to run this screen. I hate myself for not asking that question because then I would have lost my shit 5 months ago and had the test done regardless of what they thought.
Turns out the reason they didn’t run the Recurrent Pregnancy Loss (RPL) tests in December was because they didn’t consider my December miscarriage an actual miscarriage because in their opinion it was so early that it didn’t “count.” Apparently a woman needs to have no less than 2 miscarriages, not 1 miscarriage and an early miscarriage-in order to be screened for recurrent pregnancy loss. Even though I had had a prior miscarriage at 9 weeks before Ava, December’s miscarriage to them was a non event. That piece of information that I was told on the phone by douche nurse after our last lovely meeting was enough to make me actually hang up the phone and throw up.
A non event? A non mother fucking event?
That mother fucking “non event” sent me spiraling through hell-to the depths of which I still have not recovered and even put my shit on anti-depressants in an attempt to right myself.
When I reminded douche nurse of their current track record of denying me tests I’ve requested and they turn out to be wrong, and I turn out to be correct…like the hysteroscopy that I demanded even though they said “no you don’t need it”-that I had to fight to get an appointment for-which found a cervix full of scar tissue (score Brooke 1, Docs 0), and the miscarriage work up that I requested after the second loss in December that was denied which very well could have prevented last months #3 and #4 losses (score Brooke 2, Docs 0) she had nothing to say to that except that I could take a meeting with the doc on the 16th (again more waiting).
So I waited, thinking that there would be some magical something or other said to me to put my fears to rest and instill faith, but alas-no such luck. In a nutshell we have to have tests run to find out 2 things…
1. Are our chromosomes fucked up and creating embryos that will miscarry because they aren’t chromosomally sound (in 1 in 20 couples this is the cause of their RPL).
2. Is there something wrong with my body that is essentially responsible for killing a chromosomally sound embryo every time it implants into my uterus of death.
Because of my history of 4 miscarriages and 1 pregnancy that was terminated because it was non-viable (which as my recent research has sadly turned up-an issue with #2 above is actually associated with neural tube defects in pregnancies which is exactly what was wrong with Ava-her chromosomes were perfect) my chances of miscarrying the next pregnancy I have is close to 60%. Great.
We have already had the chromosome testing done (still waiting on results that wont be in for 2 more weeks). On the upside, if it shows that there is an issue with our chromosomes that is responsible for the RPL, because Ava had perfect chromosomes, we have proof that we can in fact make a healthy chromosome embryo. We will be able to use preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD) which is a way for couples to prevent a pregnancy affected by a genetic condition or chromosomal disorder. This form of genetic testing is insanely expensive and would be performed on our embryos during an in vitro fertilization (IVF) cycle. All of the embryos that are created after retrieval are analyzed and only the ones found to be normal are transferred into my uterus, where, hopefully, they will implant rather than miscarry and result in the birth of a healthy child (please for the love of all things holy and my sanity).
I am still waiting to be allowed to take the battery of tests to see if something is wrong with my body that is essentially responsible for killing a chromosomally sound embryo every time it implants into my uterus of death. I am not allowed to have my blood drawn until I have been NOT pregnant for 6 weeks. It looks like that date will be June 16th, as I am 12 days past ovulation now and currently not testing pregnant so I believe this cycle will end with my period. It takes about 1 week to get the blood results back on this battery of tests:
-Antithrombin III functional
-Factor V Leiden
-Antiphospholipid abs/anticardiolipin abs
-Protein C activity
-Protein S Functional
-Factor II DNA-Prothrombin Gene Mutation
Unlike the clean cut results of the chromosome test, (and an actual solution albeit expensive) the above screening can show various degrees of issues with my blood clotting and or immune system-but essentially to put it into easy to understand terms-unless I am fucked up enough to be allowed to take a blood thinner called Heparin as soon as I test positive for my next pregnancy, there is absolutely nothing that can be medically corrected to stop my Uohdee from its murderous rampaging. I honestly don’t believe Heparin will help my ass as most docs won’t even fill your prescription for it until you are 14 days past ovulation-and for the most part Uohdee has already killed or begun killing by then. But hey, what do I know? The docs are always right, (score Brooke 2, Docs 0) aren’t they? Hahahahahahahahah.
So needless to say-that is why we left that appointment 2 weeks ago feeling that chances were very high that we are going to be that sad couple that has no kids simply because their shits fucked up. That is why I haven’t had the heart to come back here an explain everything-cause once you put it out there you can’t take it back. It was horribly crushing, and honestly, it still kinda is. Although we have had a friend offer to attempt to carry a child for us, until she has been medically vetted and has the stamp of approval to be a gestational carrier for us and is 20 weeks pregnant with what appears to be a healthy baby of ours-I will spend more time than I will even admit here thinking that I will not ever have that experience that seems so easy for every other mother out there-of looking at her child and recognizing parts of her, her family, her husband or her husbands family as I raise that child for the rest of my life. I’m sorry, but there truly is nothing that can replace that in one’s life.
Yes, I’m sure you can adopt-blah blah blah-but unless you’ve adopted a genetic offspring from your family that also happened to marry a part of your husbands family-there is no way to replace that. I don’t just want to raise a child. I want to feel MY baby move inside of me, give birth to MY healthy baby and spend the rest of my life raising MY child. I want what I want, adoption isn’t what I want.
Just wish it was as easy for me as it is for every other woman out there.
“Fight Club was the beginning, now it’s moved out of the basement, it’s called”…my life.
Douche Nurse (DN) bubbly yelling over my head in the lobby to the happy little couple as they were leaving the center proudly displaying their sonogram of their healthy 12 week in utero fetus: “Everything looks just perfect!! I hope you enjoy your first Happy Mother’s Day!”
DN (while holding the door open for me to head into the office): “Hi Brooke, How are you?”
Me: “That’s the single most inappropriate and compassion-less question to ask a woman who just witnessed yet another couple experiencing her dream when you know that she is currently miscarrying twins on her 4th failed pregnancy after 28 months of trying to conceive her first healthy take home baby.”
DN: awkward silence as we continue down the hall and she motions for me to take a seat in the chair. “Would you guys like to meet with our counselor, I can understand how hard this must be.”
Me: “Why, would taking another meeting with her get me pregnant with a healthy baby that my body won’t reject any faster?”
DN: “Well no, but you know sometimes this just doesn’t happen for everyone, no matter how hard they try, and you might have to accept that reality.”
Yes ladies and gentleman-the nurse actually said those words to my face. Verbatim.
Me: on the verge of punching her in her face so I say through clenched teeth while squeezing the shit out of my stress ball to prepare for the hack job she’s getting ready to do on my veins because she is THE WORST blood drawer I have ever encountered in my 35 years of life… “Sometimes I find that the this place has the most insensitive and inept nurses I have ever encountered and I tend to leave here wondering how its possible that they are actually capable of dressing themselves and driving to work, never mind drawing blood and reading notes from doctors with such little apparent mental functioning. Tell me, did you actually complete schooling for this degree in douche baggery or is it something that comes naturally to those with very low IQ’s?”
DN: “Of course I went to school.”
Me: “I don’t care to talk to you any longer. Just take my blood and try not to leave a bruise covering my entire forearm like you have every single other time you’ve taken it over the past 8 months.
DN: keeping her mouth shut because she at least has enough intelligence to realize I’m fucking bullshit and fed up, she proceeds to fumble around on both of my arms looking for the most promising vein to destroy…
Me: to fill in the awkward silence and because I am not done being really angry yet-“Also, let Marcia know that I will email her this week the battery of diagnostic tests for recurrent peri-implantation pregnancy loss, you know, the ones I asked to have run on us last October and that I was told “no, there is no reason to do those tests.” I would like those complete before I meet with the doctor on the 16th so that we are actually able to have a productive meeting opposed to the current deny what the patient wants and sit around on our asses and wait plan you have me on.”
DN: “Oh well, we’ll have to wait until your beta test comes back to see if you are negative yet, and then start the count down because those types of tests can’t be done on you until you have been testing negative for pregnancy for at least 6 weeks.”
Me: “First off, no need to wait, I can tell you without a blood test that my beta is 5 or less-which is clinically not pregnant-and it has been since yesterday. So go ahead and jot that date down, not todays. Also try to remember when my results come back later today proving that I know, YET AGAIN, exactly what my beta number is without having my blood drawn, with 100% accuracy. And I’m sorry, but I simply don’t believe you know what you are talking about as far as the tests I want run. And I will no longer accept “No” as an answer when I ask for any diagnostic test. Your track record so far has proved that when it comes to knowing what’s going on with me and anticipating how I will respond, you are wrong every time, and I am right. I clearly understand that I am the patient, not the doctor, but trust me when I tell you there isn’t a soul walking this planet that will do the necessary research and advocate for my reproductive care half as well as I will. Because I know that at the end of each cycle when my husband and I are left devastated as I am flushing another failed implantation, time, and LOTS of money literally down our toilet, that the staff here are blissfully going about their happy little lives at home with their children. My failed cycle just means more of my money in your pocket because I will have to come back here again. I suspect if it were you crying on the toilet while you were bleeding out of your vagina for the 11th straight day we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
DN: “Look I understand…”
Me: “Stop. I don’t care what you think you understand, I’m telling you, you don’t. You have treated me in a manner that lacks compassion for the last time and I am done with you. I will correspond with Marcia directly and she will discuss what I want with my doctor.”
This time I stormed out of there. Learning from my last freak out, I let the auto door close this time. Then I kicked it. Then I left.
Because yesterdays beta hcg blood test came back at 16 (which is horridly low for 5 weeks and 1 day pregnant-a healthy pregnancy beta would be no less than 1800 at this point) an ultrasound can’t be used to see where
the slaying of yet another poor fiscabean implantation is trying to take place in order to rule out an ectopic. Any pregnancy under 1500 hcg would be too small to be seen with ultrasound even if it were actually in the uterus.
Uohdee is still bleeding bright red and other goodies (day 9 of that).
I’m still testing slightly positive on this mornings pregnancy test.
But the good news (if you can even call it that really) is that the line, for the second day in a row, is even lighter which reassures everyone that regardless of where fertilized follicle #2 implanted-it’s dying so there is a very good chance that even if it’s in my fallopian tube I won’t require surgery to remove it.
The center called yesterday afternoon and told me my IVF cycle for this month has been canceled due to this chaos, and future IVF cycles postponed until I meet with the Doctor on Monday May 16th to put together a diagnostic testing plan that will include both blood clotting abnormalities, chromosomal panels, endometrial biopsy and possibly another hysteroscopy. The hope is that we can figure out why my uterus has these horrid murderous tendencies and please for the love of god, the universe, and my sanity -be able to correct it before we waste another dollar, and the remaining sliver of my mental health on trying to get pregnant only to have it immediately fail.
To keep myself from going insane because there is nothing I can do while miscarrying and WAITING 2 weeks to see my doctor, I will focus my frustrated energy on research. Being the type A lady that you all have grown to love over the years, I am already thick in the journals looking up the current types of diagnostic tests for recurrent peri-implantation pregnancy loss as well as fertility treatments that have the most success on women who have issues with their uterus that prevent completion of implantation after initial attachment.
Please, no matter what religious affiliation you are, light a candle, burn something and/or say a prayer for my shit. While it is reassuring that these asshole doctors are finally believing what I’ve been telling them about my Uohdee for the past 12 months all the while they kept telling my I was crazy and not to worry-it was actually far more scary to hear them tell me yesterday that:
“This is troublesome, and absolutely not normal, and even more frustrating because the area of repeated implantation failure is the least understood portion of infertility.”
Also-I’m now accepting offers from any one with an insanely generous soul, under the age of 40, has a uterus and a burning desire to attempt to carry a fiscabean for 9 months. Good health is preferred, but honestly would accept crack heads and alcoholics as I hear they give birth to healthy babies all the damn time.
This mornings pee stick was in fact darker than yesterdays.
However, no way is it anywhere near the darkness of a pregnancy test that a woman who has a healthy baby in her uterus at 20 days past ovulation would produce.
I am still bleeding bright red, and other goodies out my vjay.
And when I discussed the details of the past 5 days with the doctors office their sage advice was “We are rather concerned that this could be an ecoptic pregnancy. Please go to the Emergency Room immediately if you have any pain localized on one side or the other of your lower abdomen, or if there is radiating pain up your trunk or down your leg any time over the next 24 hours and we will see you at 8am tomorrow morning for blood work.”
Yaaaayyyy. 4 pregnancies=0 babies, and possibly an emergency surgery and only 1 fallopian tube left for the remaining of my reproductive years.
Can it get any better?
Don’t you dare tell me its gods plan, what’s meant to be will be or that it will happen you just know it. I will punch you.
True to my word I flew out for a weeks vacation testing negative at 13 days past ovulation and I did exactly as I said I would-I stuck to my plan to fail plan.
Surrounded by a slew of pregnant women frolicking in the ocean while celebrating their baby moons, on the most incredible Caribbean island I have ever seen, I proceeded to get sloppy drunk on Sunday after I tested again (14 days past ovulation) and still nothing on those damn tests so in addition to some very light spotting-I knew I was out for this cycle.
Sticking to the plan of acting as if I’m not until I actually am, I didn’t refrain from partaking in more alcoholic beverages on Monday, and when I woke on Tuesday to even more spotting I called the center to let them know I wasn’t pregnant and to get the ball rolling on *Gulp* IVF cycle number 2.
I put away my pill box full of vitamins and supplements out of disgust and for 4 full days while I was in the thick of my period last week I took Excedrin when I had a headache (no less than 5), Dramamine before heading out on a 5 hour boating expedition and countless libations. As we were packing up this morning, I realized I was going to have to make a post for my followers to tell them that I wasn’t pregnant, and that we were in deed gearing up for IVF. So for some sardonic humor I had brought along one of my digital pregnancy tests so that I could create the following post upon my return…
“I am *great* at black magic!”
Here, see this multimillion dollar view from our abode in paradise?
Now watch as I use my black magic and turn the unbelievable view to shit with a shake of my wand…
Now I need you to take a minute and mentally insert a picture in the blank spot above of me holding a digital pregnancy test that reads “Not Pregnant” in front of the above multimillion dollar view.
Which is exactly what you will have to do-mentally envision it for me…
because son-of-a-mother-fing-bitch, this is the actual shot I got….
Yep. I know. Fucking shocking, No? Can someone really have this much shitty luck?? Yep. I can.
This is pregnancy #4 for me, and again-it will not end with me finally becoming a mother to a healthy take home baby.
I can’t tell you what the F is going on for sure, but its most likely only 1 of 2 things…I’m miscarrying and tomorrow mornings pregnancy test is going to be lighter than today’s. Or #2 I’ve got an ectopic pregnancy going on right now and the test strip will be slightly darker tomorrow morning than it was this morning. Either way, I hate both of those options because they will just delay the start of my IVF cycle and even more important-really make me quite sure that the nagging thought in my head that there is something wrong with my uterus that is preventing a fertilized egg from being able to complete implantation-isn’t just a stupid though but an absolute reality.
I’ll call the center in the morning and leave a voice message, and I am sure it will result in me being pulled out of bed bright and early Monday morning for a blood pregnancy test, and well, you all know how I feel about that.
Thank you everyone for the thoughts over the past few weeks-they sucked, and without your support I might still be in the fetal position, babbling incoherently while covered with dog hair and hiding under my bed. Who ever sent me flowers-you made my week, I just wish you would have signed the card because I would have loved to tell you in person!!
I have received no less than 10 emails in the past 3 days from you wondering what’s next-so I took that as a sign that I should get my act together and update with a post…so here it is…
Since I still want to create a life that is part me and part of my husband, and can’t seem to quite scrounge up the 100K from the sofa cushions and car floor mats that it would cost for a surrogate to carry our genetic off spring and then hand it over to us, I have no other choice than to continue on with these horrid fertility treatments.
The doctors said my pregnancy was lost last cycle because of failure to implant. No shit. Seriously do they go to school to learn a fancy way to tell you something you already know? We don’t know why the baby couldn’t completely implant into my uterus-it is either because there is something wrong inside my uterus that we have yet to discover or simply because the baby wasn’t healthy. They claim statistically speaking that chances are high it was an unhealthy baby and continue to tell me my fears about my uterus are unfounded.
I call bullshit on their claim. I just don’t buy it. I don’t believe this has anything to do with my embryo quality and everything to do with scarring left over from the procedure a year ago. There is way too much coincidence in ripping out some of the scar tissue from my cervix with a camera and then getting pregnant 14 days later for the first time in 10 trying cycles with no drugs , one egg and just one time of plain old normal sex after no less than 16 eggs have been released into my Uohdee this past year.
However, I can’t prove them wrong nor make them listen to me so all I can do is keep on keeping on. I am currently cycle day 11 and will head in to the center on Thursday for an ultrasound and blood draw to see if I meet the criteria to attempt to have the frozen embryos thawed out and placed back into Uohdee next week.
I am of course breaking standard protocol for a frozen embryo transfer (FET) because I flat-out refused to take a bunch of drugs to shut my hormones down, then a bunch of drugs to mimic the hormones that I would have had if I hadn’t taken the drugs to shut my body down in the first place merely so that the doctors can have ease in scheduling my FET so that it works with their operating room schedule. Yup that’s right-there is absolutely no other reason for someone to take all of these drugs for a FET unless they have completely out of whack cycles and issues with their body chemistry other than the fact that it makes it easier for the doctors to schedule stuff.
I don’t care about making it easier for the doctors,and have perfectly normal (actually above average for my age) reproductive chemistry. Because of this I was allowed to bypass all of the drugs normally taken for a FET and as long as my Uohdee has a lining thickness of at least 7mm and I have 1 follicle 15mm or bigger AND I haven’t surged on my own before Thursday at 8am-I will be scheduled for the FET next week.
Of course nothing can ever be that simple-chances are high I could actually surge on Thursday (CD13 which is the day I typically surge on during un-medicated cycles) which means I would be 1 day too early to do a FET this month because get this, they refuse to do any retrievals or transfers until Jan 10 because “they are closed for 6 weeks from 12/1-1/10 for annual machine maintenance.” So not only must I meet their criteria physiologically, I must not do so before Friday otherwise, no FET for me till the week of February 7th.
Oh yeah and as if that isn’t enough peril, there is also a chance that neither one of the embryos will survive the thawing process so even if I meet the criteria, and I don’t surge before Friday, there is a 25% chance that my FET could be canceled because I have no embryos to put back in me.
So there you have it. By this time next week I *might* have 1, 2 or no embryos in my Uohdee, as always I must wait to find out.
The doctor’s don’t think you’re gonna make it. They say 6 is way too low. Where are you?? They are afraid you might not be snuggling down inside my uterus, but inside one of my fallopian tubes instead, I seriously hope that’s not the case-because that’s not very good for either of us. Actually that would pretty much be a catastrophe. Wish you could tell me where you were.
Watcha doin in there anyways?? This is no time for dilly dallying, let’s go! Hop to it! You need to get yourself all buried in there deep (remember in my uterus not my tubes) and making some serious hCG and I mean ASAP!!!!
Please lil bean, don’t make me have tell your dad on the date his father died that he’s going to loose you too! Stop mussing around in there and get to work!