Let the wandings begin!!

So, my BCP-withdrawal induced period began on Wednesday, miraculously right on time. I'm choosing to take that as a sign of good things ahead for this cycle. Wouldn't it be just fabulous to have a body that reacts predictably to external stimuli? (Read that: drugs, drugs, and more drugs.)

I've been taking the Lupron injections every morning now for over a week. The needles are so tiny, I almost can't even feel them! I've only had one bruise, from yesterday morning - I was half asleep and on auto-pilot, and just kind of jabbed myself willy-nilly. Every other deliberate stick has been painless and bruise-less.

This morning I went in for the Day 3 baseline sonogram and blood draw. All things considered, it was as pleasant an experience as one can have, getting one's arm stuck and one's hoo-ha probed.

Everything looks quiet, except for the usual suspects - the ever-present cysts on my my poly-freakin'-cystic ovaries. But Dr. G said as long as my estrogen comes back low, I'm good to go to start the stims tonight. Woo-hoo! I'll be filling up another few Sharp's containers soon enough!

(Btw, I'm morbidly fascinated by the 4 CHOCK FULL Sharp's containers residing under my bathroom sink which are left over from my last marathon injection cycle. No manner of self-counseling has spurred me to haul them back to the RE's office for disposal. I get some perverse sense of accomplishment from hefting their weight and imagining exactly how many needles and syringes are stuffed into each container. How many needle sticks in the belly does that container represent? How many dollars worth of drugs were injected through those used syringes? I really can't bring myself to get rid if them. I don't know why. I think I might have a problem.)

My protocol for the weekend is as follows (assuming my estrogen comes back low): 112.5 ius of Follistim and 37.5 ius of Menopur each night, 5 units of Lupron every morning, plus my pre-natal vitamin and baby aspirin (which, for anyone who doesn't know, is supposed to help with implantation).

I go back on Monday morning for another wanding session. Meantime, I'll be resuming my nightly pep talks to the ovaries. Get off your duffs in there, girls! Time to make the eggs!!

Guess now I'm in a 'Mock 2WW'. Should I practice going insane?

So, I've been hanging out here in BCP land, with nothing much to report and no deep thoughts to share for a quite a while now. Thought I'd post a quick update on my fledgling (yet still exciting, to me!) IVF cycle.

So, today marks 2 and 1/2 weeks that I've been on the blasted bcp's, which meant it was a good week to get my Mock Embryo Transfer procedure out of the way. One more pre-requisite that I can cross off of my countdown-to-IVF checklist!!

For anyone who is unfamiliar with this procedure, it is basically a dress rehearsal of the transfer procedure that will be performed for the gorgeous embryos that R and I are going to make later this summer. Because a transcervical embryo transfer is essentially a 'blind' procedure, most doctors like to do a test run in advance of egg/embryo development, while there is still plenty of time to react to any unexpected difficulties or complications with catheterization or uterine position.

During the procedure, they thread a special catheter through your cervix into your uterus, and they measure the angle and shape of your cervical canal, as well as the depth of your uterus, to make sure they know what size instruments to use, etc. There was no pain involved - in fact the the only thing I could really feel at all was the speculum going in, and then I could feel when they filled my uterus with saline, in order to observe via ultrasound the shape, depth, etc. It was quite interesting to watch, on the ultrasound screen, actually.

Since this morning, I've had some bleeding and cramping on and off, but nothing worth complaining about, really.


I start the daily Lupron injections this Friday! Never having taken this particular drug, I'm not sure what to expect? I've never really had any side effects from anything I've taken so far, not even Clomid, so I'm not really worried. I remember reading on someone's blog that she thought the Lupron shots stung worse than the stimulating drugs. That would be a bummer.


I also found out today what my starting drug protocol will be for stims. I was a little dissapointed at the low dosage he wants to start me on, but I'm trying to just relax and trust him.


Last time, Dr. D started me at 75ius of Follistim. Then I went up from there over the course of 2 months to 200 ius of Follistim - my highest dose, and the dose at which I finally began responding (and over-responding.) Dr. D didn't add in any Menopur until I was already at 150ius of Follistim. My dose of Menopur remained constant for the 2 weeks that I took it - 75ius.


So, Dr. G is recommending that I start out at 100 ius of Follistim, and 50 ius of Menopur. I think he believes that my response at the end of the last cycle may have had more to do with the addition of the Menopur than with the higer dose of Follistim. Let's hope he is right!


At any rate, I do feel good about the fact that Dr. G reiterated to me today that he will not let me go on and on with the stims for weeks and weeks....he said that the longest he would consider going would be about 16 or 18 days. If nothing is happening, we'll stop, and regroup - possibly try another drug protocol.


So, that's my story for now, y'all! I'm trying to allow a healthy amount of hope to start to develop, without letting myself get too carried away....isn't that always the trick?

Day One!

Well, Miss Priss arrived over the weekend, on Saturday. Hallelujah! Talked to my nurse at the clinic today, and she said to start the BCPs tonight!! Woop-woop!! And we're off to the races my friends!

I know I'm a broken record, but I s-t-i-l-l can't really believe we're doing IVF. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every time the clinic calls, I expect them to say, "Yes, K, well there was this mix-up, see? And you can't really do IVF. NO, no, heavens no - what were you thinking? Certainly not..."

So, I'm to stay on the BCPs for 3 weeks, and on 6/19 I go for the Mock Embryo Transfer. I know that's like, a really necessary thing, and all? But, I swear - something about the name of that procedure just totally cracks me up every time. I imagine all these high school kids dressed up like doctors with fake mustaches and glasses that are too big for them standing in their drama club room reading from scripts with fake grown up accents or something. "Ahem, ahem....yes Nurse, um Jones? Could you hand me the um, speculatum? Ahem, ahem, I mean the uh, um speck-you-lum?..." Sheeew - see, I've gone and cracked myself up again!!

The nurse said she had to check with Dr. G as to what doses of all the various drugs I'll be on for this cycle. That's one of the (many) things that I'm worried about actually. When I had my consult, I asked him how high a dose of Follistim/Menopur he would be willing to start me on? After 60 endless days of shots last time around, I only began to respond when I had reached about 200ius of Follistim and 75ius of Menopur. He responded that he wouldn't make me start out anywhere near as low as I did previously, but neither would he recommend starting me right off the bat at those highest doses. He said that he wanted to confer with the other doctors in the practice and get their opinions on it, before stating the actual doses he recommends. So, I'm worried they'll all convince him to be as conservative as Dr. D, and I'll be right back to the drip-drip-drip torture I had before.

It's really not so much that I mind taking subQ shots for a long period of time - I'm not even really bothered by that. As I've said before, there's something comforting, in a deeply twisted way, about the habit-forming nature of those solitary shoot-up sessions in the bathroom every night. And frankly, at this point, I wouldn't bat an eyelash if they told me I'd have to take a thousand shots in this cycle. Whatever it takes, however many shots, however many days - bring it on.

What makes me more anxious than the thought of shooting the drugs....is the thought of having to pay for all the drugs. Especially if this drags out again. I think in my last IUI cycle, I had to reorder boxes of medication about 7 times. The thought of forking over all that money chills my heart.

And speaking of ordering drugs, my clinic steers patients with no drug coverage to order from Schraft's Pharmacy, citing that they are easiest to deal with, have free FedEx shipping, and have the most reasonable prices. I've ordered from them in the past, back when I still had drug coverage, and was always very pleased with them. But - you used to be able to go to their website and see all of their prices listed - this was extremely helpful if you wanted to shop around and make SURE that they had the best price for a certain drug. I went to their site yesterday, and discovered that they've apparently been swallowed whole by the mega-pharmacy Walgreen's. I hate to be cynical, but I'd be willing to bet any amount of money (the cost of this cycle, heh heh) that all the things I loved about little Schraft's, your friendly neighborhood infertility drug source, are about to get sucked down the tubes. Goodbye excellent customer service, goodbye reasonable and competitive prices, goodbye focusing on the actual person using the drugs, goodbye free shipping, goodbye convenience of having all the info you really need at your fingertips on their website....

I sincerely hope that I'm pleasantly surprised in this regard. However, what I experienced when I tried to go to their website is a very bad sign. The old Schraft's website has disappeared. The only info you can glean from the site now is several vague pages about Walgreen's and how they really care about their customers and that's why they have this specialty pharmacy for infertility drugs. No pricing, no logistics about shipping, no names of any of the doctors or pharmacists on staff there, no detailed information on the drugs themselves - just an endless loop of pages that all lead back to one nameless, faceless, generic Walgreens 1-800 number. Ugh.

Yes, I do realize it's ridiculous to get worked up over such a seemingly small detail in the grand scheme of all things infertility. But, you know, I already feel like I'm constantly frittering away hour after hour on the phone every day with nurses, administrators, insurance reps, drug coverage insurance reps, labs, former doctors, blah, blah, BLAH trying to cut through endless swaths of red tape. This is just one more thing to have to DEAL with, if you know what I mean. Oh, the bureaucracy! It makes me feel defeated, just thinking about it.

Sigh. I've really GOT to learn how to handle stress more efficiently. Watson graciously recommended anjionline.com for fertility-oriented meditation techniques. I took her advice to heart, and signed up for some sample fertility meditation downloads. And, I TRIED, people. Honest to GOD, I really, really tried to pay attention, and focus, and quiet my thoughts and feel calm and collected and send healing energy towards my girly bits......But, I felt like an idiot! I had fifty FRILLION thoughts buzzing through my head the whole time: about work that day, about whether the sound I just heard was the dog licking his paw again, which I've TOLD him not to do anymore, about what I was going to wear for my meeting with Ms. Senior VP at work the next day, about how many minutes earlier I was going to have to get up the next day in order to make it to the gas station because I forgot to do so on the way home........I just simply could NOT make them stop. For every healing thought I had, 25 more came whizz-banging through my head at the speed of light. I just don't think I'm cut out for meditation?? Maybe if I took a valium first? But, then I wouldn't need to meditate to relax...

Waiting on Miss Priss

So, while I'm here in limbo-land, waiting on my prissy period to deign to grace me with her presence, I thought I'd post about something inspiring I heard today.

I attended a funeral today, for my best friend's father-in-law. He was interred with military honors at Quantico Cemetery at the Marine Corps base in Quantico, VA. It was a beautiful service, and the presiding chaplain delivered rather unique remarks, in my opinion. They were the most upbeat and joyful remarks I've ever heard at a funeral or interment service, and I've been to far too many.

In addition to the typical, "he was 81 years old, he lived a long, full life" type of stuff, the chaplain also admonished the rest of us to take joy in our own lives and loved ones - to wring the most out of every life experience we have, each and every day. While smiling a big infectious smile, he said (and I'm paraphrasing here), "We don't have much time here, any of us - so love your family and friends with your whole heart. Forgive everyone! For everything! Life is too short to harbor resentment. Let the love pour out of your heart at every opportunity! If you love someone, tell them! Try to be conscious of the joy in every life experience!"

I was particularly uplifted by this, and have been thinking about it all day. It helped to reset my perspective a little, which is always a good thing. His sentiments remind me of a passage that is very dear to my Mom. She has it framed by her bedside. (I believe we first heard this in a benediction delivered by our most beloved Dr. P, the former minister of our church, and the man who married R and me two and a half years ago):

Life is short.
We do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel with us.
So be swift to love,
and make haste to be kind.

I think that says it all, folks.

8 random things about me...

I apologize for yet another post that falls under the category of ME, ME, ME! Tagged again by Jen at The Mama Wannabe to come up with eight random things about myself:

• I have an ear for foreign languages. I whizzed through French in high school with straight A's, and always received compliments on my accent. The summer between my junior and senior years of high school, I spent a month in Germany, and learned a shitload of German. My senior year, I enrolled in First Year German (which was directly across the hall from my Fourth Year French class). During the second month of school, my German teacher came down with laryngitis. I ended up teaching the next month's worth of classes for her, in German. For several years after that, I thought I wanted to be a foreign language teacher when I grew up. I majored in German in college because all my German classes were easy and required the least amount of effort on my part. If I had it to do all over again, I would have gotten a business degree. I've never once spoken anything other than English in any job I've ever held.

• I made a lot of extra money in college by translating German "business writing samples" for a guy who worked for a major stockbroker in downtown Richmond, VA. I now suspect the "writing samples" I translated were the work product of either colleagues or competitors that he somehow stole. He always paid me in cash.

• I'm the girliest girly-girl you'll ever want to meet - I won't go to the mailbox without makeup on. I wash/blowdry/curl my hair every morning. I feel absolutely naked and uncomfortable and anxious if I leave the house and forget to put on perfume, jewelry, or lipstick. It takes me a minimum of 1 hour to get ready to leave the house in the morning. (much to R's dismay, since we usually carpool most of the way into work together.)

• *I grew up in a family of hunting men. I am the only daughter and only female grandchild on my Dad's side of the family, which is a farm-living, horse-raising, salt-of-the-earth, southern Virginia hospitality-having, God-fearing family. The men of this family, including my Dad, his uncles, his brother, his many male cousins, etc. grew up hunting quail and dove in the marshy ever-encroached upon fields and farmland of southeastern VA. When I was born, my father took one look at me and told my mother to prepare herself, for her daughter was going to take to the woods with her Daddy, if he had anything to say about it. On the much heralded occasion of my 12th birthday, my paternal grandfather presented me with a 12-gauge shotgun. I've never been more honored by any birthday gift, before or since. The times I recall out walking in the woods with my father, my grandfather and our bird dogs (you haven't seen anything until you've seen an English Springer Spaniel or a Brittany Spaniel standing stock still, tail rigid as a board, pointing a covey of quail - it gives me goosebumps thinking about it) are some of my most precious and treasured memories of my father, who passed away when I was only 17 years old. I wouldn't trade those times for anything in this world.

• My maternal grandfather was an identical twin. When I was younger (and oooooh so naive) I always fantasized that this would ensure side by side bassinets, dual strollers, and double trouble for me when it came time to have children. Now I worry that my chances of doing double midnight feedings are great, but for entirely different reasons.

• I have an incredible ear for recognizing famous voices. I'm constantly harrassing R with this question, every time we happen to see a TV commercial (which is not that often, since we have DVR now, which - hearken, friends and neighbors - Changes.Your.Life!): "Who's voice is that, honey? Huh, huh? Do you know? Do you want me to tell you??" My favorite are those cartoon movies with laundry lists of famous people for me to discern - like, Over the Hedge, or Happy Feet, or Monsters, Inc. (that's my favorite!!) I try not to listen to any of the previews so that I won't have any unfair information before the movie comes on. If I hear a voice that I recognize, but can't place, it feels like a puzzle I'm solving. If I can't get it at first, usually I'll think of the voice in my head, and I'll "hear" another phrase that has been spoken by that voice which has somehow stuck in my brain. From the context of that recalled phrase, I can almost always figure out who belongs to the voice. If I could somehow make a living using this skill, I would quit my project management job in a heartbeat.

• Ever since I was little, I've always been able to remember lots of song lyrics, and I can remember them for a loooong time. I got satellite radio in my car (my Christmas gift from R, two years ago) and sometimes I'll catch a song from the 80's that I haven't heard in 10 years, and I can still sing every word. My best friend Monica still makes fun of me because of this dorky ability.

• If I could come back in another life as someone else, I'd want to be a female vocalist. And I don't mean a pop star. I mean like a traffic-stopping, a capella-capable, Barbra Streisand kind of vocalist who can hold a high C for 5 minutes and bring tears to your eyes. I LOVE, love, love to sing, and can't think of anything better than doing it for a living. (On alternate days I think I'd like to come back as the female lead singer of a rock band who can actually sing. I'd have to come back in a previous decade though, a la Heart, or even Pat Benatar. That would be a lot of fun too. But in a different way.)

Similar to my invitation at the end of the "I Am" post - this has been all around the world and back again, so rather than naming anyone in particular, I will just say, if you haven't been tagged yet - consider this your formal invitation to participate!

*I realize I will alienate some readers with this tidbit about hunting. All I can tell you is that my Dad's family has never hunted for pure sport; I grew up eating Sunday "bird dinners" prepared by my grandmother, which were great feasts of dove and quail, breaded and fried and delectable, served with collard greens, butter beans, and fried cornbread. I believe God made those birds delicious for a reason. But, I'm conflicted, because I'm also a huge animal lover, and could NEVER, EVER kill anything that I thought was cute - not deer, not rabbits, not even squirrels. Birds and fish I have no problems with, probably because I don't have even the slightest desire to cuddle them. And, bc they taste so good.

IVF. Huh, I guess we're really doing this?

So, I got this big package of information in the mail over the weekend from the new clinic: A Guide to IVF. A booklet to track the timing and details of your treatment. A giant checklist of all the things we have to accomplish BEFORE we can start the cycle: Blood work for me, blood work for R. Genetic screening bloodwork for me. Fax results of annual gyn exam and pap smear. Fax results of R's semen analysis from previous clinic. Fill prescription for Provera, BCPs, and prescription pre-natals. Schedule mock embryo transfer, schedule injection class (injection class? puulease, I feel like I could TEACH the damn class.) Etc., etc., etc.

As I'm going through all this rigamarole, every now and then I catch myself thinking: Holy shit. We're doing IVF?

For some reason it still hasn't really sunk in yet! Everytime I think of it, I think - My God, this could actually work. The first IVF cycle actually DOES work for some people. It really, really does. I could actually be pregnant by the end of the summer. (Shout outs to Faith and Watson!)

This is very quickly followed by harrowing thoughts of how devastating it will be if it doesn't work. There's so much pressure riding on this, because we're paying fee-for-service for this cycle. At the end of it, we'll have used up all of our remaining insurance benefits, and burned through all of our "extra" money for all the drugs. If it doesn't work, we'll be faced with some big financial decisions - how to come up with $20K for the shared risk fee, plus drug money for each and every cycle. Take out a loan? Borrow against the house? Stage a bank heist? Ugh.

I've never been much of a new age-y sort of gal, but I'm thinking I'll need to take up some sort of relaxation activity to ease this stress. I can practically hyperventilate right now if I let myself think about how important it is for this cycle to work. And I haven't even started blasting hormones into my system yet! Can you imagine what a wreck I'll be in a month or so???

If I had the money, I'd definitely do acupuncture. If I were more flexible, I'd take up yoga. If I were Watson's mother, I'd inhabit a pod...ahem, excuse me, Life Vessel. If I had more control over my brain, it would be enough just to get on the treadmill. (Unlike most people who zone out while exercising, I tend to sharpen my focus on all the things about my body that I hate, including my reproductive inadequacies.)

Too bad I can't just resolve to drink more alcohol. That would be a lot more fun than acupuncture needles.

I am...

OK, Samantha and Jen both tagged me for this, so here goes:




I Am


I am happy, kind, empathetic, and generous to a fault.


I am the kind of person who cries and laughs easily and often.


I am a child of God, and a big believer in His mercy.


I am the wife of a man with whom I wanted to be my whole life, even before I had ever met him.


I am acutely aware of how lucky I am to have such limitless and complete love for my husband, and to have a husband who loves me as deeply and unconditionally as he does.


I am the only-child daughter of a widowed only-child mother who has been my closest friend and confidante since I was teenager.


I am a senior project manager for a financial services company....and I dream of being 'independently wealthy.'


I am blessed with several especially close friends who are my family in every respect except blood lines.


I am a lifelong dog lover, and the daily recipient of doggy kisses that make my heart swell from our Westie, Murphy. I am certain I would not be able to get out of bed for a month if something bad happened to him.


I am a worry-wart, and have a constant movie scene of worst-case scenarios playing unrelentingly in my mind.


I am a 'soon'-to-be Mother, even though I have no idea if or when our next fertility treatment will work.


I am delighted when cooking and entertaining and surrounded by family and friends in my home.


I am striving to be more grateful for all of the joy and wonder in my life.



Now, this seems to have run around the blogosphere several times over. So, if you haven't yet been singled out to perform this little exercise - consider yourself tagged!!