FOURTEEN WEEKS

Well, if we weren't in the second trimester last week we definitely are now. :P My morning sickness was well behaved yesterday - didn't show up until almost 9 PM! Unfortunately today it returned at around noon (boo) but I'm hoping that means it's really going to back off soon.

Turns out, we got the call from the OBGYN yesterday afternoon with the Harmony test results - super happy to hear that all baby's chromosomes came back completely normal. No signs of trisomies of any sort, which is excellent. We also got to find out baby's gender, which I'm not allowed to share for a while. :P

It's interesting, how finally knowing the gender has had a much more profound impact than I had imagined. Because this is our only child, I knew that there would be a sense of loss no matter which gender our kiddo turns out to be - because I will only ever be the mom of a __________, and will never be the mom of the opposite gender. So having the field narrowed down to one automatically means that everything I would have looked forward to about the other gender is no longer really on the table. One of the names we chose is no longer relevant. One section of the toy aisle is probably a lot less likely to be as popular with our little one, same with one section of the kids' clothing aisles. (Though you can bet that we're going to encourage kiddo to play with and wear what appeals to them, boy/girl labels be damned.)

There's a long list of things that are awesome and somewhat unique to parenting a child of each gender, and one half of that list gets crossed off (mostly) once the gender's known. No matter what a lot of politically-correct folks out there like to say about nature vs. nurture, I worked in a daycare center for seven years and can tell you there is a distinct difference (generally) in the way little boys and little girls play, interact, and respond. There is also a distinct and noticeable difference (most of the time) in parents of all-one-gender children. Moms and dads of all girls have a unique presence, a different sort of aura to them. And the same can be said of moms and dads of all boys. In my experience, parents of all boys tend to be louder, more direct, more physical. Parents of all girls tend to be gentler, more subtle, and place higher emphasis on aesthetics. We plan on incorporating a healthy dose of all of the above with our kiddo regardless of gender - but I can't help wondering if/how kiddo's going to end up changing and affecting both of us.

What I hadn't anticipated, I guess, was how finding out my child's gender would suddenly impact my perspective on who I was myself, and who I am going to become. I'm going to be the mom of a _________. Forever and ever, for the rest of my life (unless, of course, I'm lucky enough to have a kiddo who is unlucky enough to receive the wrong body at birth. While that's not something I would wish on anybody, especially not my child, I'm totally ready to roll with it if that's what the universe has in store!)

In spite of my sleeping meds I got stuck in a rut of insomnia last night, because my brain wouldn't rest, thinking about it. It's not that I'm not super excited to be having a _________ - I AM!!! I can't wait, and I'm already in love with this little one. I just know this is the kiddo I was always meant to have (I actually suspected, since I was a teenager, that this is the gender kiddo I'd end up with) and I know we're going to have an amazing relationship. There are one heck of a lot of things I'm really looking forward to about being the mom of a ________, that I would have missed out on if kiddo was the other gender. 

But I guess my brain still needs a few days to really process that this is the direction my life, Kaitlin's life, and our little one's life is going to go. It's really nice, after years of uncertainty, to finally see the picture of the future getting a little clearer. But zeroing in on that future does mean closing the doors on other possible futures at the same time, if that makes sense. 

So yeah.

The other thing that I think both Kaitlin and I are experiencing is a sense of HOLY CRAP THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING. Our baby now has a name. (In fact, we just settled on the middle name today.) I can now go shopping for non-unisex baby clothes - my AliExpress wish list is already overflowing with adorableness. We can now picture our kiddo a little more clearly when we think about traveling, and sending them off to school, and taking family photos, and going to the museum and aquarium and theme parks and family holidays. And even though we'd be doing all those things with our kiddo regardless of gender, we now know we'll be doing them with a _______. And it somehow makes the whole thing a hundred times more REAL. 

Anyway, I'll talk more about baby naming in general in another post, because that topic is worth an entire blog all on its own. We have our for-fun ultrasound tomorrow, and we don't plan on telling the ultrasound tech that we already know gender - we want to see what they see on the screen first. ;) We'll take a belly pic when I get home tonight, too, so I'll have that up in a day or two.

In the meantime, here's the BabyCenter imagining of kiddo at 14 weeks:

THIRTEEN WEEKS

Thirteen weeks today. Some places online say this is the start of the second trimester, while others say that won't happen until next week. But whatever. I am ready for the first trimester to be done, and therefore I am dubbing today as the start of the second. :P

Today's another higher-energy morning, for which I am grateful. I've been able to juggle a couple of meetings that needed my full attention, so I'm feeling a lot better about today than the earlier parts of this week. It's noon and I'm only just starting to get a hint of stomach yuckies, so I'm hoping maybe tonight will go a bit easier. Took my last dose of meds, including my last injection, last night. Hallelujah!!! No more shots for meeee, no more shots for meeeeeeeee... now to wait for all these colorful bruises on my tummy to go away.

Baby has apparently decided that he/she hates potato chips, and will only drink iced tea. O.o Plain water is usually what I like, but baby is just not having it. It's iced tea or nothing. Still, now that I've finally figured that out, I've been able to get about three times more liquid down in the past couple days. So okay, little baby, iced tea it is. You sure are being weird. I can already tell you're going to be a handful. :P

Wearing my newly-acquired maternity jeans to work today. They are way more comfortable than regular jeans, but the seam between the denim and the soft belly band is going to take some getting used to. It's very low on my hips, so it kind of feels like my underwear is falling off, LOL. I still don't have a super noticeable bump yet, but I can definitely feel the difference in my clothes. 

In the meantime, I got a call back from the Sweethearts Wedding Chapel in Vegas yesterday afternoon, and was able to finalize reservations for our elopement ceremony. We had to do a lot of shuffling to find a date that would work - with an SCA event, Kaitlin's end-of-semester classes, Thanksgiving, Kaitlin's birthday, and Christmas all hitting so close together, and then a VERYIMPORTANTWORKMEETING that got scheduled for the one Friday we'd originally picked out (sigh) we finally had to go with December 11th. Which is okay, because we celebrate our anniversary in December anyway, so this is just moving it up a couple of weeks. It should be a relatively simple little ceremony, but we'll still get pictures and video and we're having Kaitlin's hair and makeup done and we bought cute new outfits and all in all it will be pretty darned fun. I got our plane tickets and hotel reserved too, so that's also crossed off the to-do list.

A little ironic, perhaps, that we'll be in Vegas getting married (with our little one finally on the way) almost exactly one year after our first trip to Greece. Last year on Christmas we were envisioning that we'd get to spend this Christmas with a new baby. Turns out we'll have a few more months to wait... but that's okay. At this point we're just so very grateful to have finally made it this far. <3

Here's BabyCenter's pic of baby at 13 weeks:

  

6WK3D - Ultrasound Day

I started spotting again on Saturday night, through most of Sunday. It's now about 5AM and I am lying in bed waiting for my alarm to go off, because our ultrasound is at 8 this morning. I didn't sleep very well... Too nervous. Excited, anxious, fearful... I just keep thinking over and over "please be in there, at least one strong heartbeat, please don't turn into a mess like last time, please let this be it."

My stomach aches, not sure if it's anxiety or hunger or nausea. It's been a very long couple of weeks and this is our first really meaningful glimpse into what's happening. Naturally my mind keeps running over all the things that have brought us to this point, the failed relationships, the crazy awful year at work, the doctor appointments and needles and pills and probes and plane tickets and blood and speculums and money stuff, like some kind of never-ending 80's movie musical montage. Are we about to get one more step closer to a happy ending? Or are we about to face yet another devastating plot twist?

At least we're only hours away now, instead of weeks or days. If today is good news, there's still weeks to go in which anything could still happen. But we can cross that bridge if and when we get the chance to get to it. Today first.

Not sure how I'm going to make it through the day at work after this. Hope the alarm goes off soon....


EDIT:

WE SAW A HEARTBEAT!!!!

After the longest morning EVER, getting up and getting dressed for work and making coffee and getting my little dog out of her cage and driving over to the doctor's office and waiting nervously for the ultrasound tech, we finally got just exactly precisely the results we were hoping for.

One gestational sac. One yolk sac. One fetal pole, measuring 6.33 mm (6 weeks and 3 days). And one itty bitty fluttering heartbeat at 108 bpm.

WE HAZ A BABY.  Oh my gosh oh my gosh. The ultrasound tech printed pics for us, and I took pics of them with my phone, but of course my phone is not cooperating so I won't get to post them probably until tonight when I get home. In the meantime, though, this is a short clip that Kaitlin took on her phone, trying to capture the heartbeat on video.

There really just aren't words to describe the relief, the joy, the gratitude. I know we're not out of the woods yet - there's a good 6 weeks or so more to go in this trimester where anything can still happen... but at least for today I am so very, very happy and thankful. Thankful for a heartbeat, even more thankful that there's exactly one baby in there, which was exactly what we wanted. No more pendulum stressing about what-if-it-didn't-really-work to oh-my-god-how-will-we-have-the-life-we-imagined-if-there's-multiples. We still have to be cautious about keeping the one we've got... but it couldn't be a more perfect little bean, right where it's supposed to be for this stage, and there really isn't anything more we could have asked for.

We get to go back in one week for another scan, to see how it's progressing. And then I think I'll make an 8WK3D appointment for a scan with my OBGYN... and that way I'll get one scan a week for three weeks in a row... LUCKY!! :)

Now to sit here and covertly admire my ultrasound pictures for the rest of the day at work... <3

5WK4D – I Guess I’ll Go Eat Worms

So yesterday, just as I was leaving work to come home, I went to the bathroom and found that the spotting had returned.  Still dark brown, still little enough to call spotting, but UGH!!!!

So I drove home, got into bed, had Kaitlin make dinner for me, and pretty much did not get out of bed until I had to get up for work this morning. I took an extra 100mg of progesterone last night, too, per our Greek coordinator’s instructions.  I’m still spotting today, and thankful that it’s staying dark brown and light in quantity, but ohhhhh, I really don’t want to be at work right now. Trying to prop my feet up when I can and make it through the day.

I’m tired, and lightly nauseous, and breasts were very sore last night. But this is the most awful waiting-week ever, so much worse than the usual TWW. It occurred to me that even our ultrasound next week, which right now I am clinging to anxiously, isn’t going to “fix” anything. It will give us some more information on what’s going on, but it’s not going to have any actual effect on the outcome one way or the other, any more than a pregnancy test does.  It’s just a way of finding out more. But what will be is going to be, regardless of whether we know about it as it happens or not.

Trying to find some measure of zen in all of this, but it’s really hard. I still have the gut feeling that  things are going to be okay this time, but it’s not easy to tune out the naysaying spots on the toilet paper.  And in the meantime, I am feeling a lack of energy, a lot of frustration – not just about the spotting but that I can’t keep up with the house when I really shouldn’t be walking/moving around much – and a lot of just glum, pessimistic thoughts about our capability to even be parents if one anxious week of early pregnancy makes the house this much of a mess, whether the universe intends to snatch this away like last time, etc. I guess I’ll go eat worms. :P

 (Whenever I was feeling sorry for myself as a kid my dad would always sing “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat worms…” I hated it. But it was, I admit, an effective way of pointing out just how whiny and ridiculously exaggerating I was being.)

The dumb thing is I really don’t have any reason to be letting my brain wander off in such self-pitying doomsday directions, because so far Dr. Google says that the type of spotting I’m experiencing is completely and utterly normal and not really anything to worry about. It’s like I have some sort of PTSD after our first loss and can’t dig my little brain out of its Eeyore-hole. Seriously. I’m automatically assuming and fearing the worst possible outcome, when a great possible outcome is equally possible. So basically, I am totally discounting the glass as half empty, because I fear unpreparedness if I choose to view it as half full and turn out to be wrong.

Which is worse… to be disappointed because I believed something good would happen and it didn’t, or to be disappointed because I believed something bad would happen and was proven right? There’s really no difference between the two, other than that the first scenario has an added layer of self-flagellation for being arrogant, foolish, blind, etc. etc. But either way, the ultimate result is the same: that I didn’t get what I wanted. And being able to say “I knew it!” doesn’t really make me feel any better.

I am also betting that a good amount of this poo-pooing is medication-induced, because I only seem to be this stubbornly negative when I’m on these crazy hormones.  I *could* be enjoying this time, focusing on how grateful I am that the spotting is still in the “safe” zone, even that spotting is a clear indicator that I’ve got a pregnancy really and truly going on in there, or that the spotting has increased my bonding with our little shrimp (he/she apparently looks a lot like a tiny shrimp at the moment) because I keep having long talks with them about all the wonderful things they should really consider sticking around for.  I *could* be floating around the office with a little secret smile, because I know I’m pregnant and nobody else does, and it’s kind of fun.

I really need to stop choosing to stare at the darkness instead of the stars, and give myself an attitude adjustment. :P

4WK5D - Second Beta, Symptoms, the Second TWW

So first off, here's the results of our second beta, which I got Monday afternoon:

569! Which is nearly double, at exactly 48 hours after the first one. So far, so good, yeah?

I got hit with a heavy dose of moodiness yesterday - moodiness to the point where I was so generally angry and disenchanted with my life that even the knowledge that I'm pregnant didn't make me feel better. :/ I just kept telling myself it was the hormones, and I know that's true - it also possibly comes from the fact that I've spent nearly every waking moment for the past year and a half focused on getting pregnant. Every penny I've earned, every meal I ate, every activity I did (or didn't do), it was all centered around how I felt about our TTC journey at that moment.

So now we have a second pink line, and positive betas, and a second TWW until we get an ultrasound and find out anything more... and other than taking my meds on time, there's sort of a sense of "Now what?" Not that I haven't LONGED to be able to move on to the now-what that comes after getting pregnant... it's just that I guess, in a sense, I am tired. Really tired. And while I want to launch into allllll the stuff that's been postponed - like our elopement, and starting on the nursery, and maybe even rejoining the "real" world by showing up to social things a wee bit more often - I'm currently kind of feeling stubbornly lazy. I kind of just want to curl up around this tiny flame I've at last managed to get started, and nap with it until it gets bigger, and not bother about any of the rest of it.

Of course, that's not entirely possible because I still have to do grown up things like go to work, and feed the dog, and put the dishes in the dishwasher, and fold laundry.  It's also starting to get a wee bit intimidating to think about how I'm going to manage to fit the care of a baby in with all of that. I know it will pretty much work itself out - necessity is the mother of invention, yeah? But as I was sitting on my couch for a few minutes this morning, waiting for my little dog to wake up in her crate and sort of waiting for myself to wake up a bit too before making my (decaf) morning coffee, I was thinking about how, once there's a baby in the house, I will probably not have minutes of silence in the morning to just sit and stare off blankly. And once said baby is a toddler - I'll probably not have minutes of silence EVER. :P

In addition to all of that, because of January's miscarriage I am far too aware of the fact that we are still a long way from the finish line. Just getting a positive beta doesn't mean I'm going to walk away with a baby in nine months. Up until I'd miscarried, I guess I kind of took for granted that two pink lines  =  baby. Miscarriage was something that happened to other people, unfortunate people. Well, I'm an other, unfortunate people now. And I will tell you, I have a whole new respect for the level of anger, sadness, frustration and jealousy that comes to folks who didn't get to walk away with their baby after that first positive test. I have to be careful, too, because I find myself wearing that disappointment like a badge of honor, like "oh, you were lucky enough to get to keep your baby on the first try? How nice for you. But since you didn't have to suffer like I did, you can't possibly love your child as much as I'm going to love mine." Which is, of course, horribly arrogant and assholey of me, and I have to keep checking my attitude. I wouldn't actually wish what I've been through on anybody. And just because we had to fight so hard doesn't in any way make our love for our kiddo superior to anybody else's love for theirs.

At the same time, I do think it makes it special, and unique. Our kiddo's going to know, from the time that they're itty bitty, just how much they were loved and wanted, and just how far we went (literally) in order to be able to have them in our family. That doesn't make their story any better or worse than anybody else's, but I hope it gives them a sense of self-worth and confidence.

Anyway, aside from the kind of extreme moodiness of yesterday, I had some nausea this morning (I'd say about a 4-5 on the scale of 1-10) while I was driving to work. Wasn't fun, but wasn't bad enough that I'd have had to pull over, either. It was mostly gone by the time I got here. I've since put some food in my stomach and I think that's going to help. But I am going to need to stash a thing of Saltines in my car, I think, for future morning commutes.

Friday will mark five weeks. It was also exactly at five weeks that I started bleeding last time, so I'm kind of anxious for Friday to get here so that I can prove to myself it's not going to happen this time. This weekend is Kaitlin's un-birthday (her real birthday is in December and gets lost between Thanksgiving and Christmas, so we celebrate on August 8th instead.) I know she wants to go to the Melting Pot for dinner, but we don't have solid plans for the day - we're really low on money and I can't go anywhere that there's a lot of walking, trying to keep that to small short bursts throughout the day until we see a heartbeat. So I'm not sure what we'll end up doing.

Right now, though, I really would like to just go home and nap and cuddle my puppy and watch Korean drama and surf the internet.

Instead, I will be a grownup and get through these files on my desk. :P

IVF Barbie, Not Giving Up And Other Fun

Found this post today that made me laugh: IVF Barbie

I definitely remember being Newbie Barbie, and Joiner Barbie too. And I am reminded, as I stare down my 36th birthday this month, my pregnant friends and family, friends with newborns, and pictures of babies all over my facebook feed, that technically I haven't actually reached full on Veteran Barbie status yet. I've gained weight from all the meds - about 15 pounds - and I do have some gray hair (which I keep colored.) My poor tummy has had its moments of bruises and puncture marks so bad that it looks diseased. But in the grand scheme of things, I've got time. So many folks on various boards are 38, 40, 42 and are still trying. Even if I decided to try up until my 40th birthday I'd still have four more years of attempts left. So far I've done 4 ICIs, 3 Clomid IUIs, 3 injectable IUIs, transferred five donor embryos, made two trips to Greece, and endured one six week miscarriage. That's actually only twelve cycles, total, even if they were spread out over the course of five years. Pretty sure there are an awful lot of veteran ladies who would shake their heads at all my angst and think "Girl, you ain't seen nothing yet."

And though I eye my bank account, our budgets, and the HELOC slapped against my house, the truth is that four years is a good long time. I could pay the entire HELOC off almost twice over in that time. So if a July attempt doesn't work and we have to take a 7-8 month break, is it really that big of a deal?

The same blogger has another post that really hit home: When Is It Time To Stop Trying?

I will admit, I've had moments of "Why am I even doing this? Maybe all this failure is a sign from the universe that I am not meant to be a mom. Should I be investing this energy into acceptance of a childfree life?"

And then I feel guilty. If I'm considering giving up, then I must not want it badly enough. Quitters are just people who aren't adequately motivated, aren't they? It's hard not to believe, in my weakest and most discouraged moments, that there really is some entity outside myself - the universe, fate, God - that is actively denying me a baby. The really ironic thing is that no one's actually SAID that to me, but I have this overwhelming suspicion that if the rest of the world knew everything we'd done up to this point to try and get pregnant, they'd all be thinking it... "Sheesh, obviously you're not meant to be a mom, get over it." I am projecting my own mean little inner voice onto my friends and family, the assumption that they would all dismiss my repeated failures as God's plan for my life.

And I know that this comes from my childhood, the way that I was raised in an ultra-religious bubble and taught to be judgy and condescending and superior when others were going through crises. Must be God's plan for your life, dear, be content with it...

It's those naysaying thoughts... the idea that a higher power wants to prevent me from being a mom, combined with the guilt that entertaining that thought means I don't want this badly enough, that are probably the most powerful depressants in this whole infertility war. And they battle it out with the  surviving vestiges of my NewbieBarbie self, who is still stubbornly popping up in the corner (albeit her glitter makeup is starting to look a little worse for wear) and cheerily shouting "Baby dust! Power of positive thinking! If I can do it so can you! Success stories! Pregnancy magic! Still plenty of time and money, where there's a will there's a way! Winners never quit!"

I wish there was a way I could live as NewbieBarbie. Literally choose not to acknowledge failure, to keep my eye on the prize with confidence every second of the day, spread nothing but encouragement and positivity, and live my life in between cycles with joy and carefreeness and the certainty that my baby's coming eventually. There are a few people in this world who are able to live that way. My inner judgy self usually decides they're ditzes. So unconnected with reality, maddeningly lost in fantasy, irresponsible, taking each day as it comes and never concerning themselves with how it will affect tomorrow. Romantical and ridiculous. Today I envy them. Today I think there's something I could probably learn from that kind of attitude.

In other news, my new name is now on file with the DMV. Waiting to get my social security and DMV cards in the mail, and then I can change my name here at work and on all my other stuff...

Oh, and I still haven't heard back from the Greek clinic to confirm when I'm supposed to start Lupron injections. Finally just went ahead and emailed the doctor today. Hopefully that will get me an answer...

A Little Positive Thinking

Since this blog is often majorly an outlet for all my negativity and disappointment, it seems only fair to make sure there are also entries on days when I'm feeling pretty positive about this whole thing.

Yes, it's been a long journey and we haven't arrived yet. But there's a part of me that's also really proud to have fought so hard and long for this without giving up. That's really grateful to have the resources to keep fighting. And today, looking back on all of this, I have the most bizarre emotion - enjoyment. Yeah. As if this whole thing, from today's perspective, has really been kind of fun. It's definitely challenging, and complex, and the most expensive gamble I've ever taken. But I feel like I really have made the wisest choices I could have possibly made with the options and resources available to me. I feel like I've given us the best chance of success all along.

And I feel optimistic that we aren't going to have to wave a white flag anytime soon. We try again in July. If that one doesn't work either, we can choose to try a fourth time - will probably be around December to get the savings together - or we can choose the adoption route.

You know what is the primary driver of this sudden bout of optimism? Digging into our finances with xcel spreadsheets. We've decided that I'm going to take over the management of Kaitlin's money, mostly because she hates managing money and misses opportunities to do it well. So I'm taking it over, and realizing I can probably have her nearly out of debt in 5 years. She's on an IBR for her student loans, and as a teacher, we can get the vast majority of the balance forgiven after 10 years, with just a little consistent paperwork. And what's more, I'm pretty sure I can help her save up enough to come to Greece with me for round #3. Just having her there will reduce the stress in a major way. She can pull luggage, give me the injections, and be someone to talk to and relax with.

The Greek clinic has a sperm donor in stock, and if we use his sample we don't have to pay extra for another sample. That makes the 4500 Euro / $5000 treatment fee the only real fee we have to worry about. The donor is 6ft tall, brown hair, blue/gray eyes, healthy and has prior pregnancies... and at this point we're not really caring much about either donor, aside from their probability of success.

Otherwise, we each need money for a plane ticket, the hotel room (breakfasts are included), enough money for lunches, dinners, and taxis to the clinic (about $6 each way, at the hotel I stayed at last time) and enough to cover some "replacement" progesterone, estrogen and heparin - about 2 weeks worth since that's all I used this round.

Today, I am feeling relatively confident that persistence is going to win out. That we're going to get our baby if we keep trying. And I am so very, very grateful, as I look at our income and bills, that there is a way for us to keep doing this. Yes, it's tight. Yes, it means giving up a lot of our wants, waiting on things we'd really like to have - home improvements, vacations, going to the movies, eating out, our Vegas elopement... but it's POSSIBLE. At least it's actually possible.

So. Let's get through the next weeks working hard, saving carefully, and being grateful for things like
sleeping in and housecleaning time on the weekends and the ability to be spontaneous while we still can... And keep our eye on the prize in July.

IVF#2 12DP5DT - Beta Day

Another BFN on the HPT last night. Got up early this morning, let Kaitlin give me my heparin shot, took my meds, and went to the doctor's office for the blood draw. Just waiting to get the results this afternoon so that I can stop taking the medication. I have never wanted confirmation of a BFN more than I do right now. I know that we failed. But I wish I was wrong, so badly, that I am desperate for that piece of paper that tells me I can stop going through the motions. Stop taking the medication, stop wondering about every little twinge, stop worrying about cold medicine and coffee and alcohol and just get on with my still-childless life.

I don't remember the other BFNs being this hard. I don't remember being in this much pain while at work even during the miscarriage... probably because in that case, I took days off through the worst of it. I don't feel like I deserve days off for just another BFN. It's not like my life is over. I'm not even physically as uncomfortable as I am during a normal AF. I just feel a whole lot of nothing. A whole lot of empty. My emotions are on overdrive because of the estrogen, and I can't wait to be able to stop taking it.

My heart is so broken. I feel so broken. Thirty thousand dollars later, we are no closer to having a baby in our arms than we were when we started. I am tired and bitter and more sad than I know how to put into words. I don't know how to give up on this. Yet I don't know how I can keep going, either. How do people do this? How do they get through years and years of this? How do they AFFORD it?

All I want right now is retail therapy. After months of scrimping and saving and forgoing every little thing I wanted in order to add pennies to our TTC savings account, all I want is to buy anything that seems like it might make me feel better. And it's probably the worst and most self-destructive thing I can do, because money is what makes the TTC journey go round. I'm going to be paying off the debt we're already in for the next ten years, and we didn't even get a baby out of it.

Today is a sucktacular day, and all I can think about is getting to that test result - just a few more hours now, I can make it that long, right? - so that I can go home, hate my life, drink a bottle of wine, cry until I can't think anymore, and wake up tomorrow without meds, without injections, without hope. Right now the greatest happiness available to me will be hopelessness. At least if there's no hope, it doesn't hurt so much.

So I realize that writing all of this out, the fact that this is the way my heart really feels, the fact that this is, I guess, the whiny, bitter, self-centered person I actually am, is pretty revealing, isn't it? I don't like the person that I am right now. I don't want to be this negative. I don't want to be this angry.  I don't want to be such a diva about things that aren't going right in my life. After all, the world doesn't revolve around me. And I should be spending this time caring for other people's problems and sadness instead of wallowing in my own. One of the girls at the RE's office today called me a "trooper." I wanted to hug her and punch her at the same time. It's nice that someone might think of me that way, but I know it's a lie. Because I'm not trooping, I'm drowning in self-pity and failure and pain and jealousy and anger and tears.

I want to be a strong person, a courageous person who faces disappointment with love and kindness and selflessness and grace, but I'm not. I'm tapped out, I've got nothing left. Today it's all about surviving through the next ten seconds. And then the next ten seconds. And then the next. Until life has moved on enough that I can move on too.

So.

Once I get the results I'm not waiting for the Greek clinic to tell me to stop the meds, I'm just stopping. When I send them the results, I'll ask them for another Lupron prescription, so that I can order the meds again  - it will take a month or more to get them so I might as well get them ordered now. That will be another $537. I'll also ask her to tell me how long they would recommend I wait before trying again, and how much their fee will be for a third attempt. Then I spend the next couple of weekends selling everything possible on Ebay and Craigslist. I avoid driving anywhere I don't have to drive, I eat as little as possible and avoid grocery shopping for as long as possible. I don't buy anything else for my little doll or sewing supplies. When I get my next royalty check the whole thing goes into the TTC savings account. I just literally don't spend ANYTHING, don't buy ANYTHING, that is not absolutely necessary. I avoid seeing my family, especially my pregnant SIL, as much as humanly possible - which is going to be really difficult over the summer, since that's the time when we all have birthdays and get together monthly, and I don't know how I'm going to get out of all of them.

And maybe, just MAYBE, we'll be able to take another stab at this in July or August. It will be the last. If it doesn't work... It will be a year before I can even begin to hope to have enough money to do anything else. Of course, I keep saying that, and as soon as failure strikes I seem to come up with another way to find money. I suppose a fourth try could go entirely on a credit card, but that just seems really stupid. Though adoption fees... If I spent money on an adoption and home study before the end of this year, I think I could get it all pretty much back in taxes next year. So maybe that's what we'll have to do... try one more IVF, and if it doesn't work, sign up with an adoption agency, charge the whole fee to a credit card, then write it off on taxes so that we get it refunded... and wait to see if there's any birth mother out there who will choose us.

Funny, how all the IVF bloggers I've found and followed never really seem to talk much about the money part of their attempts. Maybe they have insurance covering them, or have a partner who's footing the bills, or someone lending it to them, I don't know. But I don't have any of that, and it's maybe the biggest stressor of this entire process, worse even than the hormones and the injections and the TWW.

And the only thing that keeps me going right now is knowing that if we ever DO get a baby out of all of this, it will all suddenly seem more than worth it. It would be something I would do over again without question, if I KNEW the outcome was going to be eventual success. But right now we're in that uncertain limbo where never-succeeding is still a very real possibility, and then all of this is going to be the biggest waste, the biggest losing bet, of my life.

Break's over. Have to get started on some actual work now... the last thing I need is to get fired on top of everything else.

IVF#2 CD14 - Name Change and Other Developments

I was supposed to get an email from my new IVF coordinator today with instructions about Estrogen (and hopefully some idea of the dates I have to be in Greece) but didn't hear anything. Sent an email, but won't get a reply until probably early tomorrow morning because of the time difference. Here's hoping she gets in touch and we don't have another stressful period of silence...

I went to the bank today and finalized the transfer of 4800 Euro to the Greek clinic. Also hoping everything goes smoothly and that the 4800 is accepted, since that's what they originally quoted me.

I finally, finally got my IRS background check back for my name change. You know, the paperwork I started right after I got my BFP in December. So I took a long lunch yesterday and went to the county courthouse, about 20 minutes and 20 miles from work, to file the paperwork. Got it filed and paid my $120, only to be told that the judges were on lunch and if I wanted to wait, I could get it signed. I couldn't wait, because I had a meeting at work I had to get back to. They said okay, if I could get back by 4:30 I could get it signed then.

Drove back to work, went to the meeting. Left the meeting a little early so I'd have time to drive BACK to the courthouse, where first the lady told me the judges had closed at 4, then the other lady said she might be able to squeeze me in. Sat there for about 15 minutes and the court clerk called me upstairs - judge signed my petition. They set a review hearing for 5/22, so I have to go back then to have the final order issued.

Drove home with my paperwork, ready to send it off to the publisher in order to meet the 3-weeks-of-published-notice requirement. Realized when I got home that they gave me only one of the two documents I need. So now I have to find another day when I can either come in late or leave early so that I can go back to the courthouse, pick up the second document, and fulfill the publication requirement before I leave the country. Ugh. Really annoyed, because it means a lot of gas and time away from work, and the courthouse is only open during the times I'm supposed to be at work.

In the meantime, I got a phone call yesterday morning that my sister-in-law is pregnant. She and my brother have only been trying for about 6 months. And while I am happy for them - I truly am - and I know they're super excited and they deserve to be, I had to retreat into my own space for a while to process. Twenty five grand we've spent on this. Pills, injections, more doctors' visits than I can count, being probed and stabbed over and over again. Flights and hotel and wiring money and ordering meds overseas and traveling halfway around the world... finally, FINALLY getting pregnant only to lose the baby... and we're no closer to our baby now than we were fifteen months ago when we started all this.  Yet after six months, my brother and his wife get pregnant, easy as that.

I know the world isn't always fair. I know that just because we're struggling with infertility doesn't mean the rest of the world should have to. And I don't wish this awfulness and stress on anybody. But it does make me rage at the universe, a little. I want a baby so badly. I feel, though I know it's ridiculous and irrelevant, that surely we've "earned" pregnancy by now. Surely it should be our "turn". Surely the world should be more fair than this.

I wish I was a stronger person. I wish I was a bigger person. I wish I was graceful and kind and loving and generous and selfless. I want to be joyful and patient through all of this, to just sit back and enjoy the adventure, the mystery, the anticipation, the exotic foreign travel. Yet I'm mad, and I don't even have anyone to be mad AT.

But there is a silver lining. If this next round works my SIL and I can be pregnancy buddies... we can share our experiences throughout the stages of pregnancy, and have our babies at almost the same time, and end up with cousins super close in age. That would make for a fun time at family gatherings, since they'd have automatic playmates. I might even allow myself to believe, if this next round is successful, that that's how it was meant to be.... that maybe the REASON I miscarried, the reason we've had to wait so long, is because fate always meant for us to have babies at the same time.

It's just really hard to keep up hope right now. I'm so afraid of hoping. I'm so afraid of giving up. I'm so tired, tired, tired of the nonstop uncertainty. I'm afraid that all this fear is going to keep me from getting pregnant, in and of itself. Getting pregnant was supposed to be fun. Changing my name was supposed to be fun (it's high time I got rid of my ex's last name and moved on with my life.) Having my next book published was supposed to be fun, but somehow I think my skin has gotten thinner, because every negative comment is getting to me and they never used to before.  Not good. You can't be any sort of creative professional and be that sensitive.

My self-confidence is taking such a beating these last few days, and I just want to curl up and hide until it's over. I need something good to happen. I need some success to come at me and reassure me that I don't suck as a human being. Of course, I'd be more than content to continue to let the world keep beating me up in exchange for a sticky BFP this time.  I could take anything the world throws at me with a happy heart, if only I could just get pregnant again and get to keep it.

If I hadn't lost my baby, I'd be at nineteen weeks or so right now. Almost halfway there. It's hard to imagine. Is it normal that the more time goes by, the MORE you miss a baby that you were barely even pregnant with?

Anyway, I can't think about that for too long or I start crying again. Forward. Have to think forward. I will be in Greece in a week and a half or so. I'll have days to myself to loaf around a hotel, hopefully swim in a pool, read books, write, surf the internet, SLEEP - whatever I want. We have another chance, when I didn't think that we would for a long time. And nothing I do can change fate. I follow my med protocol, I get my butt to Greece, I show up to get my embryos, I stay healthy and hydrated and nutriented and restful. That's all I can do. The rest is just a roll of the dice and a prayer.

IVF#2 - Still waiting for AF

I am expecting AF today, but so far she hasn't showed. We've been doing Lupron shots for a week now, and we're opening up our second bottle of meds, and the bottle I ordered on 3/5 still hasn't arrived yet even though the USPS tracking says it was in Chicago on 3/16. Starting to get a little nervous. I have enough meds for two more weeks. SURELY the new bottle will arrive by then...??

Once AF shows I have to call my RE's office for an ultrasound and bloodwork. I'm not looking forward to explaining to them that I miscarried in January. I'm hoping, though, that AF is going to come today, because then I can get an appointment for Friday. If it doesn't come today I'll need a weekend appointment, and that's only going to make my already-somewhat-unfriendly RE even unfriendlier.

I am a blur of emotions right now (part of the reason I know AF is coming, LOL). I am excited and hopeful... even have moments where I'm absolutely certain that this is going to be it for us, that I'm going to have a few relaxing days in Greece, come home and get another string of positive pregnancy tests a couple weeks later, but this time NO BLEEDING, NO CRAMPING, NO SCARIES. Just two weeks, BFP, a couple positive betas, four weeks of excited bliss, a first ultrasound showing a perfectly normal developing sac (or two), and on to morning sickness, more ultrasounds, and relatively smooth sailing for the next nine months.

 But I am also still angry, maybe even a little in disbelief over January's loss. It still feels incomprehensible that I'm not pregnant anymore. I should have a baby the size of an avocado right now. I should be wearing maternity clothes, decorating a nursery, and heck... I might know the baby's gender by now. I should be posting weekly bump photos to Facebook and keeping a pregnancy journal and just... celebrating life.

Instead I'm planning another trip to Greece. Quietly, trying to keep it as short and low-key as possible. I'm trying to think of it as a nice little mini-vacation, a chance to read, work on my next book, rest - and not think of it as a long, exhausting, lonely, somewhat scary trip to a foreign country all alone where I don't speak the language and have to figure out how to call taxis by myself and whether it's safe to walk a few blocks from my hotel at night to eat dinner alone.  And in that sense I feel sad, and scared, and maybe a little depressed. While I do have moments where I'm certain it's going to work, there are just as many moments when the fatalist in me is equally sure that I'm going to go, force myself to stab my own stomach with a needle, go through the pinchy-pressure of the transfer all alone, fly for hours and hours and hours and hours, only to get a BFN two weeks later and be no closer to having a baby than I am right now and completely broke, with months and months and months to go before I can try for a third and final time. Or worse, I get pregnant and miscarry again. I keep thinking about that bitter Italian lady that I got stuck next to during the two hour recovery time at the clinic - how it was her second attempt and she spent most of the time talking about how she was sure it wasn't going to work. I hear a lot of her in my own thoughts right now and I don't like it. One resolution - I am for SURE not going to allow myself to burst the bubble of anybody else while I'm there. I may not be able to keep the negativity out of my own head, but I am sure as heck not going to plant it in anybody else's. That's just mean.

I want to cry. I also desperately want to hope, but only if this time is actually going to result in a baby. I'd rather not have any hope at all than go through that disappointment again. But it's not like I can really complain, since I'm the one who's choosing to stay in this game. That means I'm choosing to risk more disappointment, which is still more appealing right now than the thought of giving up. So I may be feeling bitter and disgusted with the universe, but I guess I still must have hope in there somewhere. As much as I'd like to throw my hands in the air and exclaim theatrically that I'm DONE, as much as I hate hate hate the idea of false hope, I must not have really given up yet... because I'm going back. That has to count for something, right?

The excitement of my new book launch has mostly worn off. In a sense it feels a little anticlimactic, actually, because it doesn't feel like I've gotten as much feedback as I guess I was expecting. I've been filling the time in the past few days with designing Disney-princess-themed work outfits on Polyvore and trying not to think too much. I'm taking my prenatal faithfully, along with a slew of other vitamins. I filled my mini-fridge at work with salad stuff. I'm trying to drink water, though I'm not very good at it. I'm trying to stay focused at work, though I'm not doing a good job of that this week either.

I'm tired today, and highly emotional, and also restless. So basically, PMSy. The one thing that I do know is that while right now the moment of truth feels so far away - end of April/beginning of May, probably, before I'll know if this round works - it will eventually get here. Time keeps marching on. Not as fast as I want it to, I'm still really wishing for that fast-forward button - but it will eventually get here, and I'll have my answer for better or worse.

If it works, the due date would be early January next year.

I just have to keep my eye on next month's calendar, and keep making it through the days. Someday when I'm old and gray I'll probably look back at this time and wish that I'd spent more time enjoying the days I did have instead of wishing they'd hurry by. Perspective is such a tricky thing.

Killing time

Today feels like the most normal day I've had in a long time. Bleeding's gone. Itching is getting better. Back to only peeing a couple times a day. Work is back into its regular swing of being utterly overwhelming and trying to focus on accomplishing one thing at a time, one meeting at a time, one email at a time. Last night was a typical work night - come home, eat some food, watch some TV, go to bed, feel like I didn't have nearly enough time to unwind.

As if I never was pregnant at all. As if none of this ever happened.

Which, right now, feels better than grief -- even if it's not happiness.

I think one of the things that's so frustrating about TTC is that there's so little I can do on a daily basis to bring myself closer to the goal, other than taking a prenatal vitamin, trying to remain in good health, trying to forgo buying anything I don't absolutely need and... well, that's it. Wait for AF. The bleeding only just stopped, and it will be weeks before it comes again, and even when it comes, it won't mean anything. We won't be doing anything with it, just letting it pass by and waiting for it to come a second time. My hope, though, is that when it comes that second time we can start our meds again, make travel plans, get ultrasounds and gear up for our next try.

So I'm trying to think of things I could or ought to do in the meantime. One of them is physical exercise. I've done pretty much nothing except the occasional week or two of walking on my lunch break. And even that dropped off pretty quickly. I need to make exercise a regular part of my day, I do, and now that I'm not pregnant and have to wait a while before I can try again now would be the time to do it. So I'm going to start today, by going for a walk around the building on lunch. (I can walk indoors at work by making a bunch of rounds through the courthouse; up the stairs, walk to one end, down the stairs, walk to the other end, back up again, etc.) It will feel a little like I'm at least doing *something*. Plus, this last year of TTC has done a number on my body, and I'm so out of shape it makes me cringe.

What I need, though, is to see if I can get the book we're supposed to be reading for my work's leadership book club in audio form. Then I can walk and listen to it at the same time, thereby being efficient. :P

The other things I really need to do include getting my house clean - all our Christmas stuff packed up - and getting our garage cleaned out. My poor little car could also really use a good cleaning. And, I'd like to revisit all the stuff I had planned for my upcoming book release. I really shouldn't let it sit by the wayside, no matter how depressed I am. A book birthday pretty much only comes along once in a book's lifetime and it would be stupid to waste it wallowing in self-pity.

Going to try not to do too much too fast, though. One thing at a time. One day at a time. Have to try and keep the days busy so that they pass faster. So that AF comes sooner. It's my choice, really, whether these days and weeks fly by or whether they drag... and the key is to keep them full of stuff to do. So that's what I'll work on, starting today. At least it will make me feel like I'm doing something to get me closer to the goal, even if it's just waiting it out.

Maybe

My insomnia didn't take very long to come back... I didn't fall asleep at all last night. I am woozy and exhausted today. I finished my page proofs and emailed them in; also verified that my next book's cover and release date were launched on my publisher's website, so I'm finally able to announce them on my FB page. Took care of that this morning.

But I've realized that every book release I've ever had has occurred during a time of chaos in my life, a time when I didn't have the emotional energy to commit to promotion or psyching up my readers or anything else. And it's happening again this time. The book comes out in March... a while back I had made a long checklist of action items I was going to do in order to promote it - website updates, contests, surveys, some promotional giveaway items, a launch party and so on. Now I'm depressed. And I know that sounds stupid, but the joy just isn't there. I want it to be, but it feels hollow. Writing is the one dream that I have actually achieved in my life, the only one that hasn't been taken away from me. Yet I want a baby so much more that the whole book thing doesn't feel exciting, just tiresome. A big responsibility, that I had wanted to tackle with brightness and energy this time around, and instead just feels like a poor substitute for what I really wanted.

I was going to announce my pregnancy right around the book release date. March was going to be one of the most awesome months of my entire life. Now, I'll be lucky if I get to spend some of it in Greece, trying again.

I've been lying in bed for hours now, unable to sleep. Finished my page proofs super early this morning, so next on the list is house cleaning. There's tons to do. Kaitlin asked me to do one thing in particular, while she's out taking her PLACE exams today, and I can't remember what it was. And I don't want to lie in bed anymore, but I also don't feel like cleaning. I know, intrinsically, that if I force myself to do it I might feel a little better. Maybe I would feel like we were moving on. Like I'm hitting the reset button on life, getting to the acceptance phase of this whole grief process, and getting over it. It's not like there's any other choice. And that's what makes me angry, I guess, not having any other choices.

A clean house would be a start. But some part of me resents it, doesn't want to pack away Christmas and straighten the house and try to get back into life again, when it's not the life I wanted. Some part of me wants to sit and be angry. Some part of me is furious that I don't have the option to reject this, to declare it unacceptable, to wave a magic wand and be pregnant through sheer force of will. And that part of me is sitting sullenly in bed. As if, by boycotting life until it gives me what I want, I can somehow make the universe feel sorry for being so mean to me. Like some sort of whiny victim who imagines herself the Gandhi of miscarriage.

It doesn't get much more self-centered than that, does it? And if that's the attitude I'm going to have, my misery is self-inflicted and I don't have the right to complain.

Not sure which stage of grief you'd call this. Pretty sure Anger, mostly because Denial's not an option. Probably going to skip over Bargaining, because... well, I've got nothing to bargain with. And Depression's in there too. May even get worse BECAUSE I have to clean the house, and go back to work, and focus on money and my cycles and all of that again. And I have the uncomfortable feeling I'm not going to be able to achieve Acceptance until we are actually able to launch another round, and that it may be contingent on whether or not a second round is successful.

I am afraid of expecting too much from a second try. Google seems to think that a person is more fertile after miscarriage. That statistically I am unlikely to miscarry twice in a row. I find myself starting to feel pretty damn entitled - OF COURSE I will get pregnant right away on our next try, and OF COURSE I will get to keep it then, because I have most certainly earned it by now, right? I keep having to remind myself there's the chance I'll go back and not get pregnant at all. Or go back, get pregnant, and miscarry again. Not everybody gets a happy ending. And then what? How many times can I do this before the money runs out? Before I'm so deep in debt it will take me the rest of my career to pay it off? And what if I do get pregnant, after saddling us and our future child with so much debt that all the things I dreamed of being able to do with and for our child are now impossible?

I "what if" things to death. Right now March is my beacon of hope. We won't get to try in January. If I'm lucky this bleeding will stop soon and my HcG will zero out on its own. Then we have to skip February while I file my taxes and wait for an AF to come and go. And then, maybe, if those things will happen quickly enough, maybe we can take our next try in March. And maybe, if that goes right this time, I will still have a baby by Christmas. Maybe.

Or maybe I will be deleting this blog and giving up.

Working on gratitude

Made it through another day. No drinking this time. Took some cold medicine and felt guilty for it, even though there's no baby to worry about. Didn't take any meds today and felt guilty for that too.

I hate that there is no option other than to accept this. I hate that I was so happy, for such a short time, because it makes the sadness worse. And I am so angry that there's no one I can be mad at for this. There's nobody I can blame.

I thought I was almost out of the tunnel, and the lights went out again. We're right back in that long stretch of uncertain darkness, hoping to get lucky enough to find our way out again. And the only thing I have, the only thing that I can think about, is trying again. Going through all of it again, and back to the uncertainty of whether we'll get pregnant again, whether we'll end up with twins after all, whether we'll get to keep it this time. It's so depressing, and yet it's all the hope I have.

I feel like I'm living in a nightmare. Like I hadn't really realized just HOW stagnant and meaningless my day to day life was until I finally believed I'd broken through into a new life, with a real purpose...And now that I have to go back to the waiting and the gambling and the lostness of it all, it feels unbearable. Maybe that's really unhealthy, I don't know. Maybe I want this more than I'm supposed to. I have a really bad habit of letting myself be too invested in my dreams.

But I made it through today, and I'll make it through tomorrow, somehow. I have to finish page proofs tomorrow and then try to find it in me to clean... The house is a wreck and I need to put all the Christmas stuff away, but somehow it feels so depressing. Also, I'm bleeding pretty heavily today, and while it's not painful it feels like it ought to be. Like it's not right for this to be happening without physical agony to match the way my heart feels. This feels too quiet, too unremarkable. Too matter of fact.

In reality it's really nothing more than another BFN. The cruelest kind, but a BFN nonetheless. I've survived plenty of them before. I'll survive this one too. At least I don't have to give up yet. At least there's still one more try on the table. Right now that's  everything, it's all I've got, so I'm going to hold on to it and try to be more grateful. Self pity isn't going to make me feel better and will only add misery to my life. So be grateful to have a stable, good-paying job, a huge house that costs as much as my old one-bedroom apartment, a kind and patient fiancée who is willing to listen to all my blubbering and anger and bitterness and loves me anyway, and a sweet and precious tiny dog who is the closest thing to a child that I have right now. Be grateful to have the resources to try again. Be grateful to live in a day and age when donor egg IVF programs are a thing. Be grateful for clean water, and fresh air, and the luxury of living in a first world country. Be grateful, and let this make me more compassionate to others' pain, and find ways to bring joy to the world around me so that if I'm lucky enough to receive some joy myself someday, I will be worthy of it.

Good night, internet.

6WK1D - anybody have a stay-pregnant dance?

I'm back at work today. Maybe I shouldn't be, I don't know, but the nurse at the ER was pretty blunt about saying she didn't think that bed rest would be any more or less effective - pretty much there's not much I or the doctor or anybody else can do to change fate. Except keep taking my meds, and my vitamin, and eating well, and drinking lots of water, and getting sleep. All the basic be-nice-to-yourself stuff that they'd suggest whether I was pregnant, had cancer, a cold or acne. It's the catch-all answer for everything.

And it doesn't feel like enough. There should be some magic ritual, some naked dance around a fire at midnight under a full moon while wearing a banana skin on my head or something, that would improve the odds. I guess I understand why so many cultures come up with chants and prayers and ceremonies and healing stones and talismans and whatever else they can think of to try and feel like they're doing something helpful, instead of sitting around waiting for a fate they have no ability to change.

So today I am still light-bleeding/heavy-spotting. My lower abdomen isn't crampy, but it's achy - like it's bruised. Maybe just overly sensitive? The vaginal ultrasound over the weekend was a lot more uncomfortable than usual, like I was swollen inside, and the ultrasound tech said that's pretty normal in early pregnancy.

I did have a thought over the weekend... even before we left for Greece, I was having to pee like every ten seconds for weeks. I assumed it was because of the Lupron and crazy doses of hormones. Once we got to Greece it continued, waking up in the middle of the night at least twice to pee - even after the transfer and after switching out the Lupron for heparin.

But since the spotting and bleeding started, I haven't had to pee as often. I've been able to sleep all the night through without having to get up. And I am starting to wonder - maybe the meds had my uterus full of extra blood and fluid? Maybe now that there's a baby in there, my body's just getting rid of the stuff it no longer needs in order to make room? Maybe maybe??

Most other pregnancy symptoms are still nonexistent. I am tired, yes, but that could have to do with emotional exhaustion and blood loss as much as anything else. I felt nauseous getting up this morning, but I always do in the mornings, especially in winter. My boobs are sore - a little, anyway. Otherwise not much going on, aside from the bleeding. If I didn't know better I'd say I was just having a regular AF.

We're doing half-doses of heparin every night now, trying to stretch out the injections as long as possible since apparently my meds aren't shipping until today, and then there's a 7-business-day wait for them to arrive.  There's the slight chance they might arrive in 5 business days, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm going to ask my OBGYN on Thursday (assuming that the ultrasound shows that a baby is still in there) if they're willing to at least give me a prescription for progesterone in the meantime, so that I don't run out before the refills get here. That's the one med that I would be really, really worried about running out of, and I don't have much left.

The one good thing about being at work is that there's enough to do that I can stay relatively distracted most of the time. Thankfully I don't have any meetings scheduled for today, so I am just going to sit at my desk and try not to get up unless I absolutely have to...

5WK2D - Wait and see :(

It's the last day of 2014. And I am a little terrified - was doing fine this morning until I went to the bathroom a few minutes ago and found that I'm spotting. Now, it could be completely normal. Might not mean anything at all. It's not a heavy or bright flow, I'm feeling some unusual twinges/tightness/heaviness in my abdomen but not cramping, per se - and this is just a bit of brown spotting. I don't usually spot, I usually full-on BLEED, so it could still be okay.

But I am so worried that it's not. ;.;

I only *just* managed to get this new OB/GYN to agree to see me next week, when they didn't want to do it until the end of January. I can't exactly call them and ask them to see me *omgrightnow* because of spotting. But if I call my RE's office they'll tell me I'm not their patient anymore. And the Greek clinic is too far away to be able to do anything or tell me anything about it. There's nothing to do but wait until tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and pray that it doesn't turn into any sort of full flow.

Last night I went to my general physician, who had me give a urine sample. They couldn't find any indication of a UTI in the basic test they did, but he prescribed me antibiotics anyway to be safe - Keflex, which he says is safe for pregnancy. I went home in the -10 degree weather, ate dinner, then drove to the pharmacy to pick up the meds. They taste TERRIBLE. Like, gag-me terrible. But I managed to get them down, along with my last progesterone pill of the day, and Kaitlin gave me the heparin shot (shudder) and I went to bed early.

Exhausted this morning, even harder time getting the antibiotics down, but already the super-frequent peeing seems to have slowed as has some of the discomfort I was feeling yesterday. Ate some yogurt for probiotics, and will need to make sure to have pretty decent servings every day until I'm off the antibiotics. Was feeling pretty awesome about today, and ending the year pregnant, and all of that - and then this.

And there's nothing to do but wait and see. It's not like there's anything they could do at this point if I WAS miscarrying. It will either happen or it won't. But I am so worried that this cold, and possible UTI, might have done something bad to the pregnancy. And I won't really know if there's still a baby in there until next week. We may or may not get to see a heartbeat - if the baby's in there and doing ok it will have a beating heart by then, but may be too small to see it. Or maybe there were two babies in there, and the spotting has to do with one of them not being strong enough to make it. Or maybe there are two babies in there, and the spotting is related to having twins - apparently that's more common in twin pregnancies. So many unknowns. Oh, oh, OH THE CONTROL FREAK IN ME HATES THE UNKNOWNS OF TTC. Seriously. It is so hard to plan for the future when things are so up in the air.

Will I get pregnant?
When will I get pregnant?
Will the pregnancy stick?
If the pregnancy doesn't stick, how long before miscarriage happens?
How many babies are in there?
If there's more than one, will they all make it?
What sex(es) are the baby(ies)?
Will the baby(ies) develop normally and be healthy?
Will having a cold/UTI/whatever cause interference with the pregnancy in any way?
If the pregnancy doesn't stick, how long before we can try again?

And on, and on, and on. Where is my crystal ball, dammit?? Or my time machine, so I can hop a couple years into the future and get answers to these questions, every one of which will have a relatively significant impact on the way my future progresses. Yet none will have answers AT LEAST until next week at the first u/s, and maybe not for weeks or months after that. Oh, how I hate unknowns. And I realize my little type-A personality needs to Let It Go. I should probably have that song on repeat right now, seriously. This is a skill I am seriously lacking.

So we achieved our OLW for 2014 - CONCEIVE. I was considering what the word for 2015 will be, but I think I'll have to hold off on deciding until we see what happens at the ultrasound next week. Until we see if this holds, I don't know what's coming next. But maybe it should have something to do with learning to let go. If there was one skill in this life that I really, really need, it's that one. I'm awful at it.

I am hoping and wishing that the spotting goes away. Maybe it's just the infection being cleared by the antibiotics? Maybe it's just the baby snuggling in a little deeper, getting a better grip in there?

Please, oh please, universe, don't take this away now. PLEASE.  After everything we've done to get here this year, it will just make me want to curl up into a little ball and implode...

EDIT:  Okay, deep breath. I am reminding myself that the day we got our BFP, I had lots of cramping - bad enough to use a heating pad - and spotting that was much heavier than this. But I'd felt pretty peaceful and confident anyway, because for the very first time I had a second line on a test.

So bottom line is, I need to have a nice, big pregnant-lady lunch, including a plate full of greens, carrots, tomatoes and snow peas, and a lentil and sausage soup. I need to take my meds, take my vitamins, drink water like it's going out of style, and rest assured that no matter what happens, it's not the end. Worst case scenario, we miscarry - and I'll shuck money at our HELOC until I have enough to try again. October - maybe August.

Internet says 50% of women with spotting don't miscarry. Other studies show even better percentages than that. So stressing isn't going to help - but eating and drinking and resting will, and that's just what I'm going to do.

I have tomorrow off, for the New Year's holiday. I am assigning myself to bed rest for the entire day. No chores, no nothing. I will sleep as late as I want, I will take a nap, and I will sit in bed and do page proofs all day long. If Kaitlin is home I will make her bring me food. :P

In the meantime, since I got paid today, I paid my bills. Did a little research on our travel American Express, and due to some promotional benefits and the significant portion of our Greek trip that I was able to use it for, I should end up with enough rewards points to get free airline tickets to Vegas for our elopement later this year.

Or maybe it's just the afternoon meds making me dizzy, which is a feeling slightly like being drunk, in which things feel less serious and less important and I feel oddly more relaxed. Now back to our regularly scheduled workday, and I'm actually going to try and enjoy this (perfectly legal, even at work, haha) buzz. LOL.

IUI#4 CD6 – First Progress Ultrasound

My shipment of Follistim arrived okay yesterday – when I pulled it off my porch that evening the cold packs were still cold, so I popped it in the refrigerator until injection time. After three nights in a row of injections (and last night Kaitlin hit a blood vessel so I ended up with a little more blood than usual) I went in this morning for our first in-progress ultrasound. So far there are 5 follies, with one at 11mm and one at 13mm – it sounds good to me, but I don’t really know if that’s what they’re expecting or not. They also drew blood, so I’m expecting a call this afternoon to let me know if my doses should change. I have another ultrasound appointment on Sunday morning at 8:20 – not super thrilled about getting up that early on a weekend, but it’s still better than having to come into work late.

My boss was on vacation for this past week, which was really great. For some reason, even when she’s being relatively un-scary, I still feel so much more relaxed and de-stressed when she is out. And of course, the day she got back and I started receiving emails from her again my stress level went back up. Also, I should be getting my 6-month performance review any time now, and I fully expect to take a hit because my staff have been requesting more overtime – that’s shown up as a negative on my last several reviews, with the accompanying comment that if I was better at guiding staff to work more efficiently they would not need OT (never mind the fact that their caseloads are twice the size of what can be worked in 40-hour weeks). And, we had a big client complaint earlier this year because one of my staff dropped the ball on a case, and I expect I’ll have to take a hit over that, too. I just keep trying to remind myself that as long as my overall score is above a 3, I’m okay – no matter what things my boss asks me to improve, or even whether or not they’re achievable, as long as the review doesn’t come back that I suck at my job (like that awful, awful one in 2012) then I’m okay.

I just wish that “good” would be satisfactory. And it never will be, because the folks I work for believe in constantly pushing for “better”. It’s exhausting, and while I realize I’m supposed to find it inspirational, challenging and exciting, it really just feels stressful, discouraging and impossible. They’ll never be content or let things lie. The bar is always going to be just out of reach. The older I get, the shittier that feels. I guess the only day I’ll actually feel like I can relax, that I have “arrived”, is the day that I retire. Since that day is thirty years down the road… well, it’s a little depressing.

Okay, done bitching. Back to eating the elephant one bite at a time… someday retirement will find me. Or I’ll get really, really lucky and win the lottery, write a runaway best-seller or Kaitlin will get some ridiculously high-paying job – and I can blow this pop stand and live happily as a stay-at-home mom and work-from-home fiction writer.

A girl can dream, right?

CD24 – Life Isn’t Always Fair

Oh my gosh, the last few days at work have been awful. I’ve had to be 100% on top of my game, and it’s been so much work that I haven’t had much time at all to think about our TTC problems.

Anyway, the doctor’s office tried calling on Thursday, but I couldn’t get to my phone all day. Then they tried again on Friday, but it was another day where I had not a moment to breathe (or even eat) so I missed them again. Saturday I left them a voice mail, but they were closed. So Monday I finally forced a moment into the end of my day so I could touch base with them.  All the while, I kept taking the same birth control.

So they said they wanted me to do another trigger shot, in the hopes that it would clear out the huge follicle-remnant that is preventing us from being able to proceed with TTC. The good news: they found a pharmacy that charged $80 for the shot, as opposed to the $168 I paid  last time. The bad news: It’s an hour and a half drive from my work, and they close at 5:30.

So I came into work yesterday early so I could leave at 4. Drove to the pharmacy (which is downtown, so parking’s a pain) and picked up the shot – the lady there was SO NICE and put it in an ice pack for me – and then drove all the way back across town to Golden to pick Kaitlin up from her car repair place. Was so tired and hungry by then that we stopped at an Indian restaurant for dinner.  Then I went home, Kaitlin gave me the shot, and I pretty much just crashed.

Now I’m to continue to take the birth control for the next two weeks, and have another ultrasound appointment on April 8^th.  Really, really hoping we can move forward with another TTC cycle by then. God, I thought the TWW was hard. This has been a two MONTH wait. So agonizing I’ve actually HAD to stop thinking about it, because it was just becoming intolerable to be so frustrated all the time.

Basically, it has been a really stressful week. Some of that stress, I know I’m creating for myself. We had a whole leadership team meeting at work this morning that talked a lot about stress and dealing with it productively and not making it worse than it is. One of the handouts pointed out that stress comes from a DIRE need for success and/or others’ approval. I started thinking about that and realized: what I have a “dire” need for is a sense of safety. That’s really the most driving force in my life – I feel like I can’t even dare to have dreams if the plans I make to achieve them are constantly pulled out from under me.  But, I strongly connect safety with others thinking well of me. The more influence another person has on a key area of my life (like my job…), the more important it is that they don’t think poorly of me, and the more endangered I feel if it seems like they might. And THAT, in turn, leads me to hate making mistakes so much that I end up responding emotionally and overreacting to correct them – either by withdrawing and trying to pretend the problem doesn’t exist, or coming up with some massive detailed time-sucking project to ensure that mistake never happens again.

I also realize this annoys my boss, a lot. She wants me to let go of mistakes easier (but that doesn’t mean she’s able to not-call-me-out on them when I make them.) And, I think she feels like I need a lot of reassurance all the time. I don’t WANT to be the kind of person who needs a lot of reassurance, but again that’s mostly because I don’t want others to feel burdened by me (and therefore think poorly of me) because that threatens my sense of safety…. See what a conundrum it is?

Also, if I’m being honest– most of this stuff is really only important to me because it’s important to my boss, who is directly in charge of evaluating my performance and providing my ongoing employment. If my boss didn’t care about mistakes I wouldn’t either. If my boss didn’t care whether our clients were happy I wouldn’t either. If my boss didn’t push for improvement and growth and change, I wouldn’t either. Because I am, at heart, a very selfish person. I don’t really care about doing a good job. All I really want is to know that *I’m* safe. If safety is contingent on doing a good job, then I have to care about it and I will. But it really isn’t work quality that motivates me, it’s the risk that poor quality work places to my job security and therefore my financial security. And of course, to complete the paradox, being honest about having these values only serves to make one’s employer more concerned/disapproving, thereby increasing the security risk. And, comfortably accepting this about myself prevents me from demonstrating growth and improvement, which also increases the risk–especially when your employer has the expectation that good will never be satisfactory if better is possible.

I’ll never actually solve this problem. I think my entire life/career will be spent constantly struggling to find a balance between avoiding mistakes and shrugging them off. The primary motivation for finding that balance is, again, a sense of security… because ultimately either extreme puts me at risk. And occasional failure is inevitable, and that’s a really frustrating reality to accept. In life, things will go wrong. Shit will happen no matter how well you prepare or how well you minimize the risks. What all of this amounts to is a complicated complaint that I can’t be both safe and comfortable; or: Life Isn’t Always Fair. It’s sucky, but wallowing in the suckiness only makes it suckier. So put on your Big Girl Panties and deal with it, I guess, yeah?

This is probably way too much thinking for a Wednesday morning. :P  

Going tonight to pick up a birth control refill. In the meantime, going to try and clear some of this work off of my desk… It’s one thing I CAN do to actively start reducing at least a portion of this stress.

Isn’t being a grownup fun?!~