Tomorrow, cycle day 57, at 1:00 p.m., Mr. Jaguar and I have an appointment with the RE to move on to the next step. Injectables are on the horizon. I will take my last dose of progesterone tonight and hopefully will soon be out of this godforsaken cycle.
I'm nervous about the injectables. I'm nervous about my husband coming within 30 feet of me with a syringe. I'm nervous about my husband's enthusiasm for that task. I'm nervous about ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. I'm really nervous about multiples. Scared is more the word actually. In making the switch from Clomid to injectables, the risk of multiples goes from 5% to 20%. Yeah, you read that right. 20%. Wow. Twins? Okay, I could roll with that and pray that we would all be healthy. More than that? It's frightening to me. Way more than that? I'm scared about the possibility of having to make heartbreaking decisions. The idea of having to take life to give life is one of the saddest things I can imagine. When I read about the details of reducing a pregnancy, it makes my chest ache. I want to hug anyone who has had to make that painful decision.
I'm way ahead of my self seeing as I'm not pregnant with a singleton or multiples and haven't even started the shots. So I'm trying to think about what questions I have for Dr. PacMan.
1. Would metformin help me?
2. Why do you feel it's time to move on from the Clomid?
3. What are your thoughts on the persistent corpus luteum cyst? Is it likely to happen again?
4. Is there a way to confirm a persistent corpus luteum, like does it show up on an ultrasound or can we only rely on bloodwork?
5. What's the schedule and monitoring for injectables?
6. What are the risks and benefits of injectables?
7. What are the success rates of injectables for women with PCOS?
8. Can we start this cycle or do we need more time to get my meds and learn how to give the shots? (I'm hoping I don't have to wait another cycle.)
Am I missing anything? Please let me know if you think of anything else. Thanks.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
We continue to live
per·sist·ent [per-sis-tuhnt] –adjective
1. lasting or enduring tenaciously, esp. in spite of opposition, obstacles, discouragement, etc.; persevering
2. constantly repeated; continuing or permanent
Today is cycle day 52. I'll attempt to recap this entire cycle with clarity but this last month and a half has been anything but clear so bear with me.
5/16 Cycle day 1
5/18-5/22 Cycle days 3-7, dutifully take my 100 mg of Clomid.
5/27 Cycle day 12, ultrasound reveals over 20 miniscule follicles in each ovary. Come back in a week. Hopefully something will grow, but we're not banking on it.
6/4 Cycle day 20, ultrasound reveals well over 30 still miniscule follicles in both ovaries. Let's consider this cycle a failure. Thanks for playing, come again on cycle day 30 when we'll rule out pregnancy and give you progesterone to get to cycle 7.
6/16 Cycle day 32, sorry, it's negative, you're not pregnant. However, we have a consolation prize! You ovulated. We don't know when because we had given up on you and your sh!t ovaries, but now you get to wait another week, come back again to rule out pregnancy and then we'll give you progesterone.
6/24 Cycle day 40, sorry, it's negative, you're not pregnant again. But your progesterone dropped which means your period is imminent, that's right, imminent. You don't need progesterone. Save $20 and move ahead 3 spaces.
7/1 Cycle day 47 where the hell is my period??!! Another phone call to the RE's office and I zip in on my way to work for yet another pregnancy test.
Are you ready for this?? Sit down because I am about to defy science with my super ovarian powers.
"Hi, Jacki. It's Lisa from Dr. PacMan's office. Your pregnancy test unfortunately was negative, but you just ovulated. So you're going to have to wait 2 weeks and then come in for a pregnancy test. If it's negative we'll give you progesterone to bring on your period."
What? JackiJaguar needs to change her name to JackiMedicalExtraordinaire because she has managed to ovulate twice in one cycle (yet still not get pregnant). This Clomid works really well!
The nurse and I proceed to stumble through a horrible conversation of me sputtering and confused explaining that I already ovulated some time before day 32 and it's now day 47 while she flips through my chart, completely thrown off her game. She, afterall, only called to give a standard, rehearsed message that she's given a million times before. She had no idea about the previous 46 days. I get off the phone upset and confused.
About 10 minutes later, after trying to create a logical statement about what just happened and failing, I call the office back. The receptionist tracks down the nurse (of course, I can't remember her name) who gets on the phone, immediately apologizes and tells me that she's been reviewing my chart with the nurse practitioner trying to make sense of all my labs.
She explains that back on day 32, my bloodwork showed that I ovulated but also indicated a possible pregnancy (which they didn't tell me back then and frankly, I'm glad because that's just messing with an infertile lady's head), so the standard protocol is that I come back a week later for another pregnancy test. Then my day 40 bloodwork showed that my numbers were back to normal non-possibly-pregnant numbers and so we were just waiting for my period. Now, today, my bloodwork shows that I ovulated again.
She questions me, asking me if I got any type of period in the last couple weeks. Nothing. I got nothing. The poor nurse, so nice, so sympathetic and so utterly confused at this point, doesn't really know what to tell me. Her only answer is that I could have had a chemical pregnancy shortly after day 32 and that I now ovulated again in a new cycle.
Chemical pregnancy. Those two words punch me in the stomach, taking all the air out of my lungs. The breezy, summer air in the room stops moving. My ears fill with the whooshing sound of blood rushing through my head.
The nurse goes on to explain that even the answer of a chemical pregnancy is still confusing because I should have had a period after it. She promises to talk to the doctor as soon as he comes in the office and that she or he will call me back to figure this out. I say thank you through my tears with each word catching in my throat.
Hanging up, I'm unsure of what to do now. How long do I have to wait for the doctor to call back? What do I do in the meantime? Could it be? Could it really be? Could I have been pregnant and now lost the one thing I want so badly when I didn't even know I had it? I let the dogs out and sit on the back step, the phone still in my hand, my heart heavy.
Since I can't really figure out what to do with myself, I opt to cry. I cry for the maybe chemical pregnancy. I cry for this stupid, frustrating cycle that seems to have no end in sight. I cry for my infertility in general. I cry for my approaching one year anniversary. I cry for each time I've heard the news that a friend is pregnant while I, still, am not. I cry. I cry. I cry.
Eventually, I head in the house. I attempt to study, but mostly stare at my tapping highlighter. I can't process anything I read with the words chemical pregnancy bellowing in my head. It's impossible to concentrate. I'd love to tell you what else I did while I waited for that phone to ring, but I don't even know. I think I mostly just sat, then wandered aimlessly around my house and then sat again all while crying off and on.
1. lasting or enduring tenaciously, esp. in spite of opposition, obstacles, discouragement, etc.; persevering
2. constantly repeated; continuing or permanent
Today is cycle day 52. I'll attempt to recap this entire cycle with clarity but this last month and a half has been anything but clear so bear with me.
5/16 Cycle day 1
5/18-5/22 Cycle days 3-7, dutifully take my 100 mg of Clomid.
5/27 Cycle day 12, ultrasound reveals over 20 miniscule follicles in each ovary. Come back in a week. Hopefully something will grow, but we're not banking on it.
6/4 Cycle day 20, ultrasound reveals well over 30 still miniscule follicles in both ovaries. Let's consider this cycle a failure. Thanks for playing, come again on cycle day 30 when we'll rule out pregnancy and give you progesterone to get to cycle 7.
6/16 Cycle day 32, sorry, it's negative, you're not pregnant. However, we have a consolation prize! You ovulated. We don't know when because we had given up on you and your sh!t ovaries, but now you get to wait another week, come back again to rule out pregnancy and then we'll give you progesterone.
6/24 Cycle day 40, sorry, it's negative, you're not pregnant again. But your progesterone dropped which means your period is imminent, that's right, imminent. You don't need progesterone. Save $20 and move ahead 3 spaces.
7/1 Cycle day 47 where the hell is my period??!! Another phone call to the RE's office and I zip in on my way to work for yet another pregnancy test.
Are you ready for this?? Sit down because I am about to defy science with my super ovarian powers.
"Hi, Jacki. It's Lisa from Dr. PacMan's office. Your pregnancy test unfortunately was negative, but you just ovulated. So you're going to have to wait 2 weeks and then come in for a pregnancy test. If it's negative we'll give you progesterone to bring on your period."
What? JackiJaguar needs to change her name to JackiMedicalExtraordinaire because she has managed to ovulate twice in one cycle (yet still not get pregnant). This Clomid works really well!
The nurse and I proceed to stumble through a horrible conversation of me sputtering and confused explaining that I already ovulated some time before day 32 and it's now day 47 while she flips through my chart, completely thrown off her game. She, afterall, only called to give a standard, rehearsed message that she's given a million times before. She had no idea about the previous 46 days. I get off the phone upset and confused.
About 10 minutes later, after trying to create a logical statement about what just happened and failing, I call the office back. The receptionist tracks down the nurse (of course, I can't remember her name) who gets on the phone, immediately apologizes and tells me that she's been reviewing my chart with the nurse practitioner trying to make sense of all my labs.
She explains that back on day 32, my bloodwork showed that I ovulated but also indicated a possible pregnancy (which they didn't tell me back then and frankly, I'm glad because that's just messing with an infertile lady's head), so the standard protocol is that I come back a week later for another pregnancy test. Then my day 40 bloodwork showed that my numbers were back to normal non-possibly-pregnant numbers and so we were just waiting for my period. Now, today, my bloodwork shows that I ovulated again.
She questions me, asking me if I got any type of period in the last couple weeks. Nothing. I got nothing. The poor nurse, so nice, so sympathetic and so utterly confused at this point, doesn't really know what to tell me. Her only answer is that I could have had a chemical pregnancy shortly after day 32 and that I now ovulated again in a new cycle.
Chemical pregnancy. Those two words punch me in the stomach, taking all the air out of my lungs. The breezy, summer air in the room stops moving. My ears fill with the whooshing sound of blood rushing through my head.
The nurse goes on to explain that even the answer of a chemical pregnancy is still confusing because I should have had a period after it. She promises to talk to the doctor as soon as he comes in the office and that she or he will call me back to figure this out. I say thank you through my tears with each word catching in my throat.
Hanging up, I'm unsure of what to do now. How long do I have to wait for the doctor to call back? What do I do in the meantime? Could it be? Could it really be? Could I have been pregnant and now lost the one thing I want so badly when I didn't even know I had it? I let the dogs out and sit on the back step, the phone still in my hand, my heart heavy.
Since I can't really figure out what to do with myself, I opt to cry. I cry for the maybe chemical pregnancy. I cry for this stupid, frustrating cycle that seems to have no end in sight. I cry for my infertility in general. I cry for my approaching one year anniversary. I cry for each time I've heard the news that a friend is pregnant while I, still, am not. I cry. I cry. I cry.
Eventually, I head in the house. I attempt to study, but mostly stare at my tapping highlighter. I can't process anything I read with the words chemical pregnancy bellowing in my head. It's impossible to concentrate. I'd love to tell you what else I did while I waited for that phone to ring, but I don't even know. I think I mostly just sat, then wandered aimlessly around my house and then sat again all while crying off and on.
Finally, the phone rings. Dr. PacMan's voice immediately makes the tears come on full. He explains that he looked over my chart and starts recapping my cycle. I do my best at practicing patience and refrain from interrupting by screaming, "What is going on? Is it a chemical pregnancy?" which is the only thing I want to know right then.
He doesn't think it was a chemical pregnancy. He can't be 100% sure but he doesn't think so. He believes it is a persistent corpus luteum cyst. Here's what that means, according to Taking Charge of Your Infertility: "In this rare situation, the egg pops out during ovulation, and a corpus luteum develops, but instead of degenerating after 16 days, it continues to live."
So I'm rare. And so is my cyst. And since my cyst is persistent, it is sticking around, emitting progesterone, and messing up my bloodwork, making it appear that I either was pregnant or ovulated twice in one cycle. And it's also delaying my period which has to be fixed with my brass ring of this cycle, progesterone. And had I been charting, which thankfully I wasn't at the time, I would have had high temps that wouldn't have dropped and I would have thought I was pregnant. Thank you for small favors. At least I didn't have a beautiful, pregnant chart because that would have been devastating.
My infertility persists. But so do I.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
WTF??!!
RE's office just called and I have to wait 2 more weeks!! I'm so confused and frustrated that I'm not even going to post about this now. I'll explain later.
I have problems
So it's now cycle day 47.
I got my big fat negative on cycle day 32...no surprise because I had been told I hadn't ovulated. I was just there to confirm the negative and get my provera so I could move on to my next cycle. But then, surprise! I had ovulated, so I had to wait another week, take another pregnancy test, get another negative and then I would receive my provera.
Cycle day 40 rolls around, I go in and take my pregnancy test, get my big fat negative and then am told that my period is imminent so I don't need the provera to bring on a period. I can just wait and save myself the copay for the prescription.
But now it's cycle day 47 and I've been googling and now I'm alarmed (the dangers of google and webmd). Where is the period? How long can a luteal phase be? Do I have a luteal cyst which I now know is common with women taking Clomid (damn you, google!)? I call the RE's office this morning, explain that I ovulated sometime before day 32 and it's now day 47. They tell me to come right in, we'll do...you guessed it! another pregnancy test and then they'll give me provera to bring on a period. I'll believe they'll give me provera when I'm actually holding it in my hand. I just want to get this next cycle started already.
But what if....
I know, why am I doing this to myself? You're not pregnant! You know for a fact that your progesterone level already dropped. But I can't help it, I start daydreaming. What if I get to tell my husband tomorrow, on his 30th birthday, that he's going to be a dad? What if he opens his present and it's the special gift that reveals that I'm pregnant? What if, on the day of our 4th of July barbeque, I have horrible morning sickness? I imagine being in the midst of a conversation with my sister and suddenly it hits me. I rush to the bathroom with her following and while I'm puking, she realizes. "Oh my God, are you......" and I peek my head out of the toilet, smiling sheepishly and respond, "We weren't going to tell anybody yet."
What if, what if, what if.......I've had enough of the what ifs.
I got my big fat negative on cycle day 32...no surprise because I had been told I hadn't ovulated. I was just there to confirm the negative and get my provera so I could move on to my next cycle. But then, surprise! I had ovulated, so I had to wait another week, take another pregnancy test, get another negative and then I would receive my provera.
Cycle day 40 rolls around, I go in and take my pregnancy test, get my big fat negative and then am told that my period is imminent so I don't need the provera to bring on a period. I can just wait and save myself the copay for the prescription.
But now it's cycle day 47 and I've been googling and now I'm alarmed (the dangers of google and webmd). Where is the period? How long can a luteal phase be? Do I have a luteal cyst which I now know is common with women taking Clomid (damn you, google!)? I call the RE's office this morning, explain that I ovulated sometime before day 32 and it's now day 47. They tell me to come right in, we'll do...you guessed it! another pregnancy test and then they'll give me provera to bring on a period. I'll believe they'll give me provera when I'm actually holding it in my hand. I just want to get this next cycle started already.
But what if....
I know, why am I doing this to myself? You're not pregnant! You know for a fact that your progesterone level already dropped. But I can't help it, I start daydreaming. What if I get to tell my husband tomorrow, on his 30th birthday, that he's going to be a dad? What if he opens his present and it's the special gift that reveals that I'm pregnant? What if, on the day of our 4th of July barbeque, I have horrible morning sickness? I imagine being in the midst of a conversation with my sister and suddenly it hits me. I rush to the bathroom with her following and while I'm puking, she realizes. "Oh my God, are you......" and I peek my head out of the toilet, smiling sheepishly and respond, "We weren't going to tell anybody yet."
What if, what if, what if.......I've had enough of the what ifs.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
BYOK (bring your own kid)
A couple weeks ago, Joe and I went to a birthday party thrown by our friends, Adam and Nancy, for their one year old daughter. This was right after we found out that Tom and Kathy were pregnant. I had some anxiety about attending as I often do now when I go to any function where I'm supposed to make small talk with people who don't know about our infertility. I'm just not into it. It so often leads to questions about do we have kids or when will we have kids or do we want kids.
In preparation for the party, I nested that morning and we came up with socially inappropriate responses to random people's questions about when my husband and I plan to have children. Some of the highlights were:
1. I'm not sure, I think something might be wrong....see it started with all this vaginal itching and then this weird discharge. What do you think?
2. Oh gosh, me no, it would just be too confusing, trying to sort out all of the 'Baby Daddy' stuff.
Wow. I was stunned. That really stung. I hadn't even made it through the doorway and the first comment I get right out of the gate is congratulations on my phantom baby. This was going to be one hell of a party. I asked myself if I was going to cry, but determined that, surprisingly, I wasn't. The comment made me sad, don't get me wrong. It's just that it was also so insanely ridiculous that it somehow, in a bittersweet way, crossed over to funny.
My next thought was, "The nesties are not even going to believe this!"
The party continued...there was cake and a pinata and what seemed like six thousand children running around. The four of us were the only ones there (not exaggerating) who did not bring a kid or were not grandparent to a kid in attendance. There was no alcohol which personally really would have helped the situation. We left early, thank goodness.
Upon arriving home, I immediately got on the nest to post the latest. The response: " Crap, we totally didn't prepare you for that one! We only prepped for 'when are you going to have them'!"
Next time, I'm going to have to study harder. Maybe there's some kind of prep book you can buy, like when you have to take the SAT.
In preparation for the party, I nested that morning and we came up with socially inappropriate responses to random people's questions about when my husband and I plan to have children. Some of the highlights were:
1. I'm not sure, I think something might be wrong....see it started with all this vaginal itching and then this weird discharge. What do you think?
2. Oh gosh, me no, it would just be too confusing, trying to sort out all of the 'Baby Daddy' stuff.
3. I've been trying but it's not working. What positions did you use to have your kids?
4. I don't know...I'm really still sowing my wild oats. Y'know, sleeping around, doing drugs.
5. No, we're not ready, so we just have anal sex.
Later that day, Tom, Kathy, Joe and I all arrived to this party at the same time and were kind of just lingering in the doorway. The place was a mob scene. It looked like Elmo threw up everywhere. There were stranger children running amuck. Who the hell even knows this many kids? I'm a teacher and I know less. There were strollers, diaper bags and sippy cups everywhere I turned. It did not look like a promising place for an infertile to relax.
Adam saw us from across the room and came over to greet us. As he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, he said, "Congratulations on the baby!" Huh??? "Oh, not you. Kathy. I'm sorry, I mixed you two up." Adam then proceeded to go over and hug Kathy and congratulate her on her pregnancy.Wow. I was stunned. That really stung. I hadn't even made it through the doorway and the first comment I get right out of the gate is congratulations on my phantom baby. This was going to be one hell of a party. I asked myself if I was going to cry, but determined that, surprisingly, I wasn't. The comment made me sad, don't get me wrong. It's just that it was also so insanely ridiculous that it somehow, in a bittersweet way, crossed over to funny.
My next thought was, "The nesties are not even going to believe this!"
The party continued...there was cake and a pinata and what seemed like six thousand children running around. The four of us were the only ones there (not exaggerating) who did not bring a kid or were not grandparent to a kid in attendance. There was no alcohol which personally really would have helped the situation. We left early, thank goodness.
Upon arriving home, I immediately got on the nest to post the latest. The response: " Crap, we totally didn't prepare you for that one! We only prepped for 'when are you going to have them'!"
Next time, I'm going to have to study harder. Maybe there's some kind of prep book you can buy, like when you have to take the SAT.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tit for tat...but with more tats
Lucky
Georgia (standing) and Katie
NeeNee (or Nia)What I'm Currently Mourning:
1. That I won't conceive a child in the traditional sense of my husband and I having sex alone without help from strangers.
2. That I can't participate in the pregnancy and parenting conversations that all of my friends seem to be having. I'm simply a benchwarmer.
3. That I'm so often in it, in my head, thinking about my infertility.
4. That, although I'm open about my infertility and proud in the sense that I put a face on something that many people don't understand a lot about, sometimes I feel like it makes me that girl, the one that people whisper about how it's such a shame and how long have they been trying for now?
What I'm Currently Celebrating:
3. That I'm so often in it, in my head, thinking about my infertility.
4. That, although I'm open about my infertility and proud in the sense that I put a face on something that many people don't understand a lot about, sometimes I feel like it makes me that girl, the one that people whisper about how it's such a shame and how long have they been trying for now?
What I'm Currently Celebrating:
1. That I have my husband who makes me laugh every day and who I love more than I can put into words.
2. That, as much as it sometimes hurts me, most of my friends are currently pregnant or have little ones and all of them are healthy and doing well.
3. That I have my two cats and my two dogs (see above).
3. That I have my two cats and my two dogs (see above).
4. That I have good infertility coverage. Right now, this is a huge blessing for us.
5. That I have a wonderful family.
6. That we have our home. Granted, it's a huge fixer upper and it makes me feel really poor, but it's ours.
7. That I'm in a position to be able to pursue my Masters' degree.
8. That I have the TTC 6+ girls on the Nest. They validate, support, make me laugh and all around rock.
9. That my list of what I'm celebrating is longer than my list of what I'm mourning.
7. That I'm in a position to be able to pursue my Masters' degree.
8. That I have the TTC 6+ girls on the Nest. They validate, support, make me laugh and all around rock.
9. That my list of what I'm celebrating is longer than my list of what I'm mourning.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
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