Nothing to Report

Man, this blog is getting repetitive.  TTC, AF, rinse, repeat.  That red-headed slut showed again today, and I'm not surprised.  Between my broken out skin, spotting for three days, my little allergy "incident" and our timing, I didn't think we'd be able to conceive this cycle anyway.  So . . . on to cycle #41.  I'm not disappointed or sad or frustrated or anything like that.  I'm just kinda done in a used to it way.

I attended the funeral of my BFF's brother last week, the sister of a friend was murdered over the weekend, school started with the kids on Monday, and I got in a wreck yesterday.  Needless to say, I am SPENT.  Sleep is a commodity, energy is tapping the reserves, and the wine is running out around here!

Even though it's been tough, I have a surprisingly good attitude.  I know things could be so much worse.  Here's to praying it doesn't get that way!

In Case There was a Chance

If there was a chance of me getting pregnant this cycle, I think that plan was thwarted on Wednesday.  Here's what happened.

Back from San Francisco

. . . and it's hotter than hell here ! I went from sleeping with the windows open and wearing a jacket during the day in California to walking into a wall of fire regardless of the hour here in Dallas. Oh well. Home is home and I'm glad to be back.  We really missed our pets and our own bed.

On the IF front, I feel like I don't know where we are anymore. Cycle 40 is underway, but I'm thinking I'm going to O wwaaayyyy earlier than usual.  We'll give it the "old college try" (how freaking stupid is that statement for an IFer?!) and see what happens.

I've been fighting with bouts of jealousy and despair.  I'm not jealous of women who are pregnant & have children, but I am extremely envious of their situations.  I find myself irritated with strangers and friends alike.  Jealous of anything from a pg belly to someone who already has a child that beats me in a game on FB to someone else complaining about their kids.  But then, I think of when we were in Monterey and I offered to take the photo of a couple who obviously were on their babymoon.  When she said, "Make sure you get the belly!" I didn't even kick her in the head or toss her into the ocean.  Hopefully the birds at least shit on her.  SEE????  It's all really pretty irrational.  I feel like I can't win for losing, so it's just something I need to deal with for now.

I also flounder from "forget this shit" to "I'm going to die if I don't have a baby."  Do I keep going and see if we get a baby, or do I go ahead & give up and take the childless route.  How whack is that?  I truly feel like a nutjob sometimes.  I'm sure I sound like one, too.  :)

I'll be updating our blog later with all sorts of vacation stuff, so feel free to drop over there if you so desire.  Until then, I'll continue being insane.  At least that's one thing on which we can all depend.

Cycle #40

Cycle #40 began today after a few days of some definite phantom symptoms that almost gave me some hope.  While I am disappointed in yet another bfn, I've been able to find the positives.  Right now we are vacationing in gorgeous Northern California, and I'm sitting here getting my drink on before getting in the hot tub tonight.  Couldn't have done that with a bfp, huh?

I will say that if the number of cycles it takes us to get pg exceeds my age, we will have a problem.

Not much to report.

  

DH and I just returned from a trip to Batlanta to take care of some family business and see a plethora of friends.  Of course, during our travels the O fairy arrived with tons of post-op EWCM.  Doubt we'll see any positive results from that experience.  And, ATL friends, if for some random reason you are reading this, don't worry - your home wasn't used for our efforts.  :)  Therefore, our daughters will not be named Georgia, Mary Etta, or anything like that.  Whew!

Racing . . . No . . . *Sprinting* Through My Mind

Ever since my post-op appointment with Dr. Terrific, I've had this gnawing & lingering feeling.  I left his office, waving to my dear friends, Nurse Excellent and Nurse Amazing, with the words, "Go get pregnant!" in my head.  What I thought was a lingering feeling is now the sprinting of those words through my mind on a constant basis.  My anxiety is up, and it's affecting me.

I'm sleeping, but not comfortably.  I'll ask a question, get an answer, and forget the words before I make it into the next room.  I about damn-near lopped off two of the fingers on my left hand while absent-mindedly chopping bell peppers with a butcher knife.  I stutter and stammer when I talk.  I constantly rewind the DVR to repeat what I just saw on TV and didn't process.  I have a difficult time looking people in the eyes.

Granted, I've had these issues before (outside of the dismembering of my phalanges), but this time it's not from work-related stress or home-related stress.  I'm not depressed, though.  It's all inside my mind.

"Go get pregnant!"  Yeah, I've done that before.  Three times in one year, in fact.  That's why I have three dead babies (in one year).  Then, for two years, we struggle to get pregnant.   SURE, we'll just "go get pregnant."

Because getting pregnant is (WAS) so easy, I/we have:

• more surgeries
• four failed IUIs
• TI cycles
• more TI with Femara cycles
• Cancelled cycles due to cysts
• LOTS of hooha parties
• Temping
• Eating a shitton of pineapple core
• Eating the whole damn pineapple in a day
• Peeing on things -- all sorts of things.
• Multiple fancy times with the dildo cam
• Acupuncture
• Chiropractice
• Therapy
• Grief therapy
• Mind over matter
• Music
• Blogging
• Pretending
• Praying
• Petitioning for prayers
• Carrying around and sleeping with random trinkets
• Hiding baby things
• Spending all of my savings and then some
• And more.

"Go get pregnant."  Dammit, we're gonna try.  I just wish it was as easy as that.  What if all of this surgery yields us the results of nothing?  I'm so used to being broken, that maybe it's just difficult to believe I could be "unbroken."  It would be amazingly awesome if we got pg without having to do IVF and CGH and infusions and all of that expensive stuff.  It would truly be an answer to prayer.  I also know there are no guarantees.  Just because we get pg doesn't mean I stay that way.  My records do have the words "habitual arborter" plastered all over it.  And I don't even have a charm or a t-shirt to prove it.  But that's for another day, another rambling.

Truly, I can't really worry about it like I am.  I will NOT let it completely consume me again.  Right now it's a subconscious thing and it needs to stay that way before going away completely.  I can't go back to that "place", and I won't do it to my DH.  Guess I'll just continue to take my  blood pressure meds, PNVs, happy pills, anti-anxiety pills, folic acid, and daily aspirin.  We'll continue to have sex.  And I'll probably continue doing most of the crazy stuff I just shared with you.  (Ya know, just in case!)  Plus, I know that I'm not alone.  I was reading a blog post by my blogfriend, 2WW, and what she says make sense.  That, or we're both just nuts.  Still, nuts ain't so bad as long as you're together!  :)

In all seriousness, this whole thing is scary stuff.  The thought of it not happening . . . it's . . . consuming . . . unnerving.  Even with all of the crazy emotions and fears, I truly still feel that DH and I will be parents.  We will get pregnant and deliver a healthy child.  We will become "Mommy" and "Daddy".  We have to.  We WILL.

Sex in Absentia

I would like to publicly thank some of my friends for having sex to support us.  Luckily for our plan (but sadly for DH) the evil dear eternal AF showed up yesterday morning right before my appt with Dr. T.  She was even 2 days early!  Just to rub it in, I've had hella cramps since this afternoon.  Guess my nice, clean ute is readjusting or something freakish like that.  Ouch.

So, keep at it my friends, and we'll be joining your ranks soon.  :)  I'll just start relaxing right now.

Marching Orders

First of all, THANK YOU for all of your comments on my pathetic ridiculous dramatic last blog post.  You all remind me that although I may often feel alone, I am not.  Much debate went on in my tiny little head about even posting it, yet I decided to go for it just in case there was just ONE other person out there feeling the same way.  Misery loves company, doesn't it?  Either way, I learned that I might be the only one in my skin with such feelings, but there are others in the trenches with me.

I had my post-op appointment with Dr. T exactly two weeks after my surgery.  Apparently, he did visit me in recovery.  I remember hearing his voice.  Dr. T said, "Uh, yeah you were out of it."  Ya think dude?!  Chuckling, he said, "Talking to you did no good, and talking to your husband wasn't much better."  When relayed that to DH, he defensively said, "I did tell you everything he said, didn't I?"  :)  Guess that proves yet again the difference in knowledge base between the IFer and the DH of the IFer!

In my laparoscopy/hysteroscopy, doctors found "feather-like" tissue that was easy to remove.  (words in quotation marks are Dr. T's words)  Past that scar tissue was more of a "fibrous" tissue that wasn't necessarily solid tissue but more similar to cartilage.  The shape was like a "pillar" in the fundus of my uterus.  It did appear as a type of septum, but it was not consistent with a uterine abonormailty but more of additional scar tissue.  That tissue was carefully removed as well.  After that tissue was completely removed, my uterus "sprung back" into shape.  Fibroids were of no consequence, tubes were open & clear, and an endometrial polyp was removed.  There was NO evidence of endo.  Yea!

My stadium is now clear and shiny, but I unfortunately have no proof of a diamond-encrusted roof.  Not even after all of the money I had to pay!  Hopefully embryos implant better in clean uterine tissue than diamonds anyway.

After drawings, reading charts, chatting, and the usual bs, Dr. T provided me with . . . drumroll please . . .

Plan #69583309-05-B-82k298t.9h-XYZ:  "Go home, do it like crazy, and get pregnant."

Easier said than done, but here we go anyway.

Three Years

Three years ago today was my first BFP.  I had been "feeling funny", so I thought I might as well test.  DH was on the phone with his brother dealing with family business, so after a late night at work, I ran to get some HPTs.  I called my sister because I didn't even know what kind to buy.
When I returned home from the store, DH was still on the phone.  I waited for him to hang up, but after an hour, I decided to poas.  Using a CBE digital, I went for it not really knowing what to expect.  Lo and behold, it said pregnant.  I couldn't believe it.  Only ten days after returning from our honeymoon, we were expecting.

I went to tell DH, and he was STILL on the phone.  I sat on our bed in shock just waiting for him.  After what seemed like years, he finally came in to our room and asked, "How was your day?" 

I told him very simply that my day was "pretty good until I got . . . (cue bawling) . . . huh-huh-hhoooommmmmme."  Looking at me in utter confusion, DH just stood there. 

I then blurted out, "I'm pregnant!"  He came and hugged his crying wife and told me it was good.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked.

"Yes," I continued to cry, "but I'm scared!"

Little did I know how scared I really need to be.

Addiction or Insanity?

I decided - for some reason - that it would be a great idea for me to poas this morning.  Why would I not?  We're on a break cycle, so naturally my infertile self would get pregnant, right?
It's getting close to the day that the nice, big men with the pretty, 3-armed, white jacket come to get me.  Wonder if they carry it in red?  It's just a bit bland and strappy-looking for my fat body type.

Dog Parenting

Yesterday, DH and I walked the dogs. We have started walking them all separately because they seem to behave better. DH took Pippin in one direction and planned to walk Mackey afterwards. I took Steve in another direction with the almost always needed bags for poop in hand. As Stevie and I walked, I filled a bag with a bunch of leaves from a neighbor's yard. It's much easier to pick up a big, fresh, warm mound of dog poop when it's covered with leaves.

Surprisingly, Steve didn't give me a need to use the bag, so I saved it for DH's walk with Mack. As DH brought Pippin in and leashed Mackey up, I told him the bag was on the entry table for him to use if he wanted to take it. He asked, "Why a bag of leaves?" I told him the same thing I just told you about picking up fresh poop.

His reply? "You'll be great with kids, Dear." I told him I hope so! :)

I know it sounds silly, but hearing that from the man I love - the father of my future children - really warmed my heart and gave me hope. I think he'll be great with kids, too.

Take Five (or Twenty-Five)

After talking with DH tonight, we are going to take a break from TTC for at least this month. December is always so crazy for us between work, parties, Christmas, guests, and more. DH is starting grad school in January and will be taking the GRE on the day we might need to do an IUI.

When I told him that after looking at our December calendar thus far, it might be best for us to hold off on "official baby-making" for this month. I was honestly a bit surprised that he was a bit hesitant. I feel as if I've been the one pushing this whole TTC process, and it was nice to know that it matters to him as well.

With all that said, we are going to take the next 25 days to enjoy, relax, have sex for fun, hang out, and spend time with family and friends. No meds, no poas, no charting, no temping, no stress. We'll need to get ready for 2010 . . . this will have to be it for us - baby or bust!

So, I'm Still Here

I haven't bled to death yet, so I guess I'll keep blogging. If you don't hear from me, you'll know that AF had her way with me and won. ;)

I went for acupuncture again today. This time it felt more like acuPUNCTURE than before. My puncturer asked if it was okay to be aggressive, so I said yes not knowing what aggressive meant. It meant he put needles in my scalp, on the top of my head, in my wrists and arms, on the sides of my finger, sticking out of my thumb, in my calves, on my back, into my neck, on my stomach, in my ankles, and some other places I lost count of along the way. When he put one of the needles into the side of my hand, it shot up my forearm clear up to my shoulder. I said, "Did you hit one of my nerves?" Puncturer said, "Western medicine call it nerve. We call it channel." Nerve, channel, I don't care. That was crazy. I think a few of those needles must've been way extra long & hit my ovaries. Okay, maybe they didn't really hit my ovaries but dang . . .

And now that I think about it, the only thing he had me take off today was my socks and shoes. Ha!

When I asked what the purpose was for this treatment today (in relation to IF), puncture man said that it was to "stimulate my uterine and ovaries" and "clear my woman channel". He also said to "find out what doctor say about cysts" and he will "make them goway if still there." Whatever. Just make it all work in there!

I go for my baseline u/s tomorrow. The worst part of it (other than AF being here and the dildo cam being involved with that) will be that Dr. T is on call, so I have to go "across the street." I know a few of you who read my blog know what that means since your doc is a part of the same practice as Dr. Terrific. "Across the street" means I'm going to the OB office. I've never made it across the street before. See, that's the good thing about Dr. T's office. The pregnant office and the unpregnant office are separate. So separate that they are across the street from one another.

It'll be okay though. The pg ladies and I will wait together. The lucky with the unlucky. The baby carriers with the baby killer. The fertiles with the infertile. The blessed with the unblessed. As long as nobody asks when I'm due, we'll be jjuuuusstttt fine.

It's Official

I appreciate your friendship, support, and readership these past however many months I've been blogging now. However, my time has come to say goodbye. I won't be able to blog anymore. The end is coming. I am going to kick the bucket. Croak. Head to the big house. I'm going to bleed to death and die.

After 2 weeks of AF last cycle, she's back again. Cycle 30 . . . here we are. The red-headed slut is out to kill this time. The cramps and flow are already killers on CD1. Of course, I've been spotting for 6 days, so I knew she was coming. Plus I hear that you at least have to have sex to get pregnant. Well, if one can even get pg without medical intervention.



Baseline u/s is scheduled for Friday. If the cysts are gone, then we'll be back in the saddle again. I'm not excited because I know this will probably be our last shot at IUI. Being that IVF is way out of our price range, and since I don't know of any docs who offer the "you po teeechers discount", I'm really scared that this will be the end of our road. One way or another, this might be it.

Since I can't worry about that or solving global warming tonight, hellcramps and I are going to bed. And yes, Auntie is coming with us. Bitch. If I don't croak in the night, I will blog again later this week.

Cease & Desist Order

I am placing a Cease & Desist order with AF. Her teasing and torturing began ELEVEN DAYS ago, and she's still taunting me just a bit. My beta came back negative (as expected), so why have I been spotting and bleeding and spotting and bleeding since freaking September 26th?

Go away, AF. And don't even come back again.

Not Even a Little BB?

As I told you, I went in to Dr. T's office ready to ask for the big guns. Well, I get nothing. Not even an itty bitty teensy tiny little BB.

Apparently lefty - my bitchy oh-very ovary - decided to hold on to two cysts after my last cycle. We still have a 19mm and 13mm hanging on for dear life. No Femara this cycle. No IUI this cycle. No nothing.

Dr. T said that I won't get pg this cycle, so go ahead & try to get pg. Isn't that how it works? :) I return to the dildo cam on day 2 or 3 of my next cycle to see if the cysts are still there. They better not be! If everything looks good, we'll do Femara + trigger + IUI + whatever else we can before moving towards not being able to afford IVF.

Until then, we have hair highlighting, sushi, acupuncture, wine, hot dogs, tuna fish, mammogram, caffeine, deli meat, soft cheeses, flu vaccinations, soft serve ice cream, ibuprofen, and running with scissors.

Back to the Drawing Board

Dr. T will be the artist. In fact, he better be the smartest artist because I'm going back to hear more of his craftsmanship tomorrow. Hhhhmmm . . . wonder what we'll do now? I'm thinking we need to bring out the BIG GUNS.

Ya know, them big gunz usually be lotsa monies and all too. Better keep learnin' theees kidz my mad grammar an spellin' skillz. I be tryin' ta make lots moneys to pay fer sum babiez.

Where to go from here?

So now what?

I spent yesterday feeling the worse menstrual cramps I've ever had. They were so bad that they woke me up early yesterday and my pelvis even hurt today. Thankfully, it wasn't like the pain that comes with a natural m/c, but between feeling uncomfortable and upset, I was pretty much a hot mess all day. I took a two hour nap & still went to bed before midnight.

I woke up today and made a decision that I would not be having a pity party. My mom called this afternoon, and we talked for a very long time. Sometimes when I don't feel well, I just need my mom. She offered to come over, but I told her not to worry about it since there's absolutely nothing she can do.

I'm now feeling under the weather and hoping it's not a precursor to the lovely flu that is parading throughout our school. I sprayed the crap out of my classroom on Friday after finding out one of my students has the flu. Hopefully that will help at least a little bit.

I'll call Dr. Terrific, Nurse Excellent, and Nurse Amazing tomorrow and tell them to pull out the next set of big guns. I figure that we'll try the Femara with IUI again, and I am telling them that I want to trigger this time. If that combo doesn't work, I don't know what will happen. Dr. T has already mentioned IVF, but that is not in the budget for our teachers' incomes.

So, after the call to Dr. T tomorrow, I'll set up acupuncture, chiropractic and massage appointments, have some sushi, and try like hell to remain positive. I even doubled the dosage for my happy pills for the next week in hopes that will help a little. I'm so disappointed that my body continues to fail me time & time again. I have done nothing to deserve this heartache. Never have I been perfect, but IF is nothing that I deserve.

I just do NOT feel like I won't ever get pregnant and have a baby. Those thoughts and feelings and dreams really do wane sometimes, but I don't think God wants me to not be a mother. Thinking about DH not being a father kills me just as much. In my entire life, I have never imagined not being a mom or having a home with children. I've always been the babysitter, baby holder, helper, and more. I have witnessed three live births and been in the waiting room for many, many, many others.

Now I want us to be the Mommy and Daddy. I want us to be the ones having the baby while everyone waits in the waiting room for the wonderful news. I want to see the looks on our parents faces when they see their grandchildren for the first time. I want our pets to be the pets that love on, play with, and protect our babies. I want our home to be taken over by baby paraphernalia and toys. I simply CAN NOT give up on that. Probably because I can't imagine the alternative, but I just can't give up. I can't imagine not being pregnant, not having a baby, not being a mommy, not being a family. I just can't.

I really appreciate all the sweet comments, emails, and other contact you've all shared with me. Knowing you all are on our side makes it a little easier to live through the disappointment again & again.

Betrayal

My body betrays me yet again. AF reared her ugly red-headed slut self with a vengeance this morning. She showed up three days early just to rub it in. Fuck my body.

Patience is a Virtue

I do not have. BFN this morning. It's only 9dpiui but it was still as stark white as my ass . . . without the dimples. I'll try again maybe Sunday or Monday.