Paperwork

My medical records arrived last night from my old RE, Dr. M., so I copied them this morning, and wrote out a nice summary for the new RE, Dr. S. (oooh, see, how brave of me, I'm "outing" them with initials! But it was going to be too hard to keep track of if I just kept saying "the RE"). Then I went straight to the Post Office the minute that lunch time rolled around, and Priority Mailed it off. It should get there by Friday, I'm thinking, giving him plenty of time to review the records before we speak on Tuesday.

The records were very dull and boring. All very professional stuff. No snide comments about patient's fat thighs or farting under anasthetic or anything. Though I did see a comment about them recommending patient see a dermatologist about nevi on legs. OK, so I have freckly skin! Sheesh. And actually I did go to a dermatologist on their recommendation, who said I don't have skin cancer...yet. Anyway, I digress. The only thing I saw in all the blood tests that was a little off was that my TSH (thyroid hormone) was 2.2 whateverunits. It listed "normal" as being 0.5 to 5.5, but it seems that more recent research implies that normal really should be 0.5 to 2.0. So I'd be a teeny bit higher than that. I'd never been told the numbers of lots of the tests before, just that they were normal, so it was interesting to see the actual values. I shall ask Dr. S. if it is worth retaking that test. I mean, if they're going to send me for a bunch of blood tests anyway to prove that I don't have HIV and all that jazz, why not add on an extra TSH? I also couldn't see a test for the MTHFR gene mutation, which all my other IVF buddies seem to know about, so I'll ask him about that too.

In other news, I bought some ovulation predictor tests yesterday. Man, it took me back to when this was all new and exciting and when I actually used things like that. But Dr. S. is big into co.culture so if he recommends that for me (which I'm sure he will) at some point I will have to go to Big New Clinic on a day trip to have an endometrial biopsy done. Which has to be done on a natural cycle, and at a certain point past the LH surge. So, in the possibility that I could get that done this cycle (yikes!) I decided I may as well try to use the old pee sticks. In the hope that I'm not as crap as before at actually detecting the LH surge with the darn things. The good news is that I can hopefully tie it up retrospectively with a temperature rise, so I don't need to be hanging on the result quite so much as if I were timing an IUI from it.

Choo-choo!

Ooh, I'm getting positively giddy now. I was reading a post on a message board about someone worrying about flying after IVF transfer. Pshawww, I thought, who needs to worry about that?

And then I did worry.

Not in any grand sense, but flying is tedious at the best of times, and I don't think it'll be exactly fun to fly back after my out-of-state cycle, worrying about embryos. And stressing about getting back to work. So I was mulling, and suddenly the idea of taking the train back came to me. And I thought, bah, I bet with the crappy public transport in this country it will be impossible to take the train.

So I checked.

And there's a train! In fact, there are two a day. Direct from Big City in which Big New Clinic is located, all the way to little old My Home City, wot is where I live and all. One of the trains takes 25.5 hours, and the other takes 29 hours. But they have cute little sleeper compartments, with their own toilets and sinks. And beds! And dining service and all meals included. And all of a sudden I could see myself with a mess of books and magazines lolling in my seat while the countryside rolls by. Relaxing on the train.

Now, we're not talking cheap, exactly, although it's less money for a private sleeper compartment than I thought - about $450 in total for the one-way trip. But, you know, once you consider blowing $20k on one cycle, little trifles like the cost of the train which would normally give me apoplexy suddenly seem so minor. And we're not talking speedy here. But I like trains. I have done several of the world's classic long train journeys. Ahh, the Nullabor. Ahhh, Siberia. Ahh, Rocky Mountain high. Like, several days worth of train travel in one go type journeys. And I'm a nerd, OK, but I like trains.

So, if I can swing it, I might just take the train home from my next IVF cycle, and then, all of a sudden, just like that, it'll be a little adventure for me. Giddy, here I come.

Choo-choo!

It's a protein thing

Last Sunday and Monday, cycle days 1 and 2, I noticed that I had quite blurred vision. I may or may not have had blurred vision on previous cycles, and put it down to needing new glasses, but this seemed different. A weird blurred. Not everything was blurred, but only when I tried to concentrate on it. And then it stopped. And I thought: "huh, I wonder if that was connected to the start of my period and not to needing new glasses?"

And then I remembered from reading in The Infertility Cure that one of the case studies talked about a woman whose vision dimmed and had floaters around the time of her period. Yes, I have read or browsed The Infertility Cure so many times that I remember shit like that. So I dug the book out, and started thumbing through all the case studies. I couldn't find it at first, but I kept looking. And there it was. And it meant Liver Blood deficiency. Because the Liver directs blood to both the eyes and the uterus, according to Chinese medicine, and if there isn't enough Liver blood at the start of the period, because all the blood has gone to the uterus, the eyesight can be affected.

So I started googling Liver Blood deficiency, and it seemed to fit with some of my other symptoms, and was related to just plain old general Blood deficiency, which has always been one of my Chinese medicine diagnoses. I figured I may as well google Blood deficiency too, while I was at it. I started trawling through websites. And then I found it. An article that talked about how many vegetarians have Blood deficiency because they don't eat enough protein. It was like a light went on in my head. I mean, it's one thing to read about these Chinese diagnoses, but then you think, well, how did I end up with that? Why did that happen? I don't eat a bad diet, I've always been fairly healthy, why am I such a mess? Because you see, I have had so many diagnoses that it just didn't seem fair - Kidney yang deficiency, Spleen qi deficiency, Blood deficiency, Blood stasis, Liver qi stagnation and possibly Heart deficiency. But then it clicked. Decades of inadequate protein intake could easily cause problems. And the first time I went to a naturopath, she told me that I wasn't metabolizing protein properly, so what little I was eating wasn't even all getting absorbed.

And so, because I need a "thing" for every cycle, this time I resolve to try to eat 60g of protein a day. And if I have to live on Quorn cutlets and whey protein shakes, so be it. I had a feeling that the whey protein I took last time was doing some good, but I think it was too little too late. This time I'm going to give the protein intake a real college try.

I told the acu about my blurred vision, and she immediately said, in a somewhat excited voice "that's Liver Blood deficiency!" and then asked if I was ready to go back on herbs. I said I was, so she made me up a tea formula. I hope there's lots of blood tonifying herbs in there that'll help, along with the protein. I hope this'll perhaps finally be the piece of the puzzle that will enable things to work properly.

I feel a bit of optimism creeping back in. I hope it hangs around.

Showers of babies

God, life is really funny sometimes. It fucking cracks me up.

We had a baby shower in our office yesterday. Whoopee-doo. Unfortunately, because I'm a complete and utter idiot, a couple of months ago I'd made a vague offer to help out in some way. You know, I figured I'd help put up a streamer or two and that would be it. I've helped out on most of these things in the past, so thought it would be a bit odd if I didn't step up to the plate. Not that other people's baby showers are my favorite things, but they don't drive me nuts. Anyway, so about a month ago, I got an email from the lady who was organizing the shower, along with another Sarah in the office saying that as we'd both volunteered to help, the two Sarahs could help with the decorations. Ha ha. Very witty. After a while, it became apparent that we were expected to do ALL of the decorations, not just put up a couple of streamers. OK, fine. Me and the other Sarah got together, we checked out the registry, found out the nursery theme, all of that. We decided to make the decorations green, with jungle animals. Just like the nursery. All very cool. Just before we were going to head out on the shopping trip, the organizer lady said that a friend of hers had a bunch of decorations that were "gently used" and that we could use, which would save buying any. I explained the whole theme thing and that I wasn't sure that it was a good idea, but the organizer lady said this stuff would fit in perfectly. She insisted that we use the recycled stuff. So the other Sarah decided to plan party favors, and I basically did nothing, expecting that all I'd have to do was put up a few streamers and that would be it. It was all going according to plan, finally.

On Wednesday I got handed the bag of decorations. It was full of a very small amount of tatty crap, much of which was falling apart, and which was blue with duckies. Fucking eh. Hardly what I'd call green with jungle animals, and I'm not quite sure how this stuff would be perfect with our theme. There weren't enough plates or napkins, no table coverings, and there was one banner. It's a big room. It needs more than one fucking banner. So I spent much of Wednesday racing around to different stores buying shit. I must have spent $40 on decorations. On my own. Because it was all last minute and there was no-one else around to help. Managed to get a green/blue Noah's Ark theme going. Got some animal shaped cookies. Cut some wrapping paper up to cover various surfaces. It was all coming together. I was a veritable Martha Stewart.

So, yesterday. I headed up to the conference room first. This is a large conference room in our building that any tenant can use for a few hours for big meetings, parties, etc. There was a maintenance guy there, messing around with a ladder.

"Oh, you had party?" he said.
"Well, we're about to have a party, I'm just starting the decorating. Other people will be helping in a minute."
"Party for you?"
"Uh, no, I'm decorating, it's not a party for me."
He looks in the bag of decorations. "Baby shower?"
"Yup."
"For you?"
"No, not for me, I'm just putting the decorations out."
"But you pregnant, yes?"
"No." Sigh. "Just fat."
"Oh, who it for?"
"Susan. Well, wait, there are four Susans in the office, but, you know, the one that's 8 months pregnant." The one that's hugely fucking pregnant, I'm thinking, unlike me. The one that is obviously due for a fucking baby shower. Unlike me.

The other Sarah was nowhere to be seen. The organizer lady was arsing around with chicken wings, and making some weird punch concoction, so I basically did the decorating on my own. I was helped after a while by the husband of the very pregnant Susan, who'd shown up to help drive the haul of gifts home. But we got it done. It looked fine, if a bit understated because of the lack of tat, as I'd already chucked some of the more garish items on the grounds of bad taste.

The shower was fine. Except I ate far too much chocolate and cake because I was depressed about being called pregnant. And then I ended up staying late to clean up, even though I just wanted to run away from everyone and all the cutesy baby stuff. I am a schmuck. A fat schmuck. A fat schmuck who apparently looks pregnant enough to have a baby shower thrown in her honor.

I got home, and called the family to see how their various health complaints are coming along. I try to be a good relative, see, even if I'm not exactly chirpy at the moment. My aunt asked me if I was still depressed, as I'd been a bit down at the weekend after the acupuncture bawling-my-eyes-out fiasco. Well, um, let me see, I've failed three IVFs (four if we're counting that cancelled one) and my RE has just basically fired me so now I have to travel out-of-state in a last ditch attempt at conceiving. So, I'm sorry if I'm not bouncing back instantly. And now some arsehole just asked if I was pregnant.

I ate more chocolate. I felt sick. And then I got annoyed with myself that I blew my diet. And felt sick some more.

This morning, as I arrived, I found a big bag of decorations sitting in my office. I suppose I am now the official keeper of the baby-themed tat? Like I want a bag full of cutesy baby decorations lingering around my desk? I foresee that it may end up being accidentally misplaced prior to the next office baby shower. In the shredder.

The infertility special ed. bus

I am in a strangely optimistic mood today. I suspect that it is because of the passing of whatever premenstrual and menstrual hormones have held sway for the last few days, and the introduction of new hormones. Estrogen! FSH! Welcome back, my lovelies! In fact, I am going to blame Saturday's crying fest on PMS, and not on me being a sad loser of a repeat IVF failure. Nuh uh. Not me.

Anyway, it has got me thinking about other people's sadness and depression in this crappy infertility nightmare. The very wonderful Calliope is posting more again, which perks me up no end. Of course, it may all be due to the little pink pills and bravado, but I hope that she is coming back to us for good. I feel so bad for her that she's been going through some much huge shit, with GM's illness on top of infertility. That is a rough road, my friend. Then I have two other internet buddies who are feeling very sad at the moment, one facing IVF #2 and one facing IVF #3.

I wish I could do more to cheer my friends up, although I know that no cheering is possible. Because when we get down, we have to travel through the abyss on our own, and somehow emerge at the other side. We may not be as hale and hearty as when we started our journeys, but I hope that eventually all of us will be well. We may not be aiming for a destination that we ever considered when we first set out, all happy and excited, but I hope that we can all find peace with our new paths. And dare I hope for happy? Happy would be wonderful, but seems so out of reach for so many of us at the moment. I wish I could wave a magic wand and have this infertility nightmare over for all of us. Why were we the ones that were chosen to be "special", to have to go through this heartache? Why weren't we the ones that got pregnant easily, and got to be smug fertiles? I just don't understand it all, I really don't. I don't understand why we get the tears, and they get to be short tempered with their children. I know I'll be a better mommy and a better person because of this journey, but can I stop the bus now, please? Can I get off and start getting on with my life again? Can we just pretend that I have learned whatever lesson it is that I needed to learn, and allow me to graduate? Can we all get off the bus, and be happy together with our babies? Pretty please?

Anyway, as I know that no cheering is possible, I want to give a shout out to anyone out there that is feeling down or depressed or hopeless or otherwise sad. You are not alone.

Back to what I said in the beginning. As usual.

I think I'm finally getting somewhere with my thinking. It's been a messy, disordered process, but I think things are becoming clear to me.

I have decided that I don't want to do a consult at Fancy-Schmancy Clinic. The cherry picking, the insistence on certain tests that I don't think are necessary (like a clomid challenge test after I've done 4 stimulated cycles - I mean, what's the use?), the brash commercialism, all of that, isn't sitting well with me. Sure, if I could get in, it looks like I'd have a good chance. But I don't want to be constantly worried about cancellation or getting dropped. And then there is the logistics of getting there and doing the cycle. So that one is out. For good. I understand that if you fail at Big New Clinic, Fancy-Schmancy Clinic won't take you as you're too difficult of a case. Oh well, so be it.

Then there is Immune-Specializing Clinic #1 and Clinic #2. While they are all very nice and lovely, I don't want to be stuck in this decision making vacuum for too long. I just know if I do phone consultations I will be exactly where I am today - stuck at making a decision between two (or three) competing protocols. I won't know which one is better for me any more than I do today. And I do believe that my problem is egg quality, not immune factors, so that is a big part of everything. So I have decided to put my faith in Big New Clinic and just go for it. If it fails, then Immune-Specializing Clinic will still be there. But I'll copy all my medical records just in case I have to send them off quickly for a last-minute consult, as a girl reserves the right to change her mind.

So there it is. I am all about Big New Clinic. I will see what they have to say without the thought of a third opinion. If I absolutely hate them, I will think about an opinion at Immune-Specializing Clinic. If I don't absolutely hate them, if they think they can help me, if they are offering anything different from the local clinic, then I will do the cycle at Big New Clinic.

And just so you know, I do this every freakin' time. With everything. I'm really quite bored of myself, but can't seem to change my behavior. I make a decision fairly quickly, often based on my gut instinct. And then I question it for a while, swinging backwards and forwards and generally acting like a decapitated chicken wondering if it is the right decision, and finally plump for whatever it was I decided in the first place. It could be which pair of shoes to buy, what item to pick from the menu at dinner, or it could be which place to do IVF#5, go to college, which job to take, etc, etc. Doesn't matter what the scale of the decision it is, I seem to do the same thing. I wish I could just cut out all the useless second-guessing and go for it with my first thought.

In semi-related vagina news, my period arrived totally unexpectedly on Sunday. Either I had a 10-day luteal phase (not good), or I ovulated earlier than picked up by the software at that site but it was such a pathetically weak ovulation that my temperature didn't rise appropriately (not good but not entirely unexpected after a failed IVF), or a combination of a shortish-LP and a weakish ovulation. And I didn't get my usual premenstrual pain, which may be down to the Chinese herbs that I am self dosing with, or may just be coincidence. So, I was rather surprised when it put in an appearance shortly after breakfast, and I had to run to the store while the rest of the family were in church (yes, you may call me a heathen) in order to buy some sanitary protection. No, I didn't miss church just to buy sanitary items, I was already missing church to start with, in order to spend some quality time with the crossword. But sadly, I am being a good girl and following the acu's requirement to use pads rather than those allegedly bad for you but oh-so-much-pleasanter-to-use and easier-to-carry-around-for-emergencies tampons, and therefore only had a liner in my handbag. Unfortunately, as I don't know the neighborhood all that well I ended up at a 7-11 and they only had these giant monster pads, or mattresses as I like to call them. And they weren't even overnight pads, these were marked as "regular" size so I shudder to think what the "maxi" size are like. It's like being 13 again.

Anyhoo, the reason that news was semi-related to IVF is that Big New Clinic closes its lab down periodically, so in order to get into a particular series of cycles, your periods have to put in an appearance before or after certain dates. As this last cycle was shorter than I'd have liked, this of course puts me squarely into a "closed" time period for when I expect dear Aunt Flo, and may mean that I have to have an extra month's break in order to be able to cycle in the following series. Not so bad for the weight loss attempts, but bad for the sanity saving attempts. Meh.

Out of sorts

I went back to acu this morning - I hadn't been in a month. It was very emotional for me explaining to the acu that my local RE doesn't want to treat me any more and that I'll be going out of state now. I don't really know why it was so hard. It's all bound up in my sorrow at not being able to continue to try naturally inbetween IVF cycles, because I don't have a husband, and that I feel they don't really approve of IVF, and because I feel I'm letting them down. And because she didn't have any new ideas, and even said my body responds really well to acupuncture. Well, clearly something isn't responding! So I spent most of my time bawling my eyes out and not being really able to answer questions properly. Especially after she asked "so what about after Big New Clinic? Have you considered adoption?" Well, duh, nobody does IVF without considering adoption. But I'd like a bit more support while I'm still trying with my own eggs, thanks very much, and I don't want to be asked questions in a manner that presumes it's going to fail.

Sigh.

We're going to have a review meeting after my telephone consultation with Big New Clinic, when presumably we'll know the plan for moving forward. But if they don't have any new ideas, I don't know what to do. There aren't any more acupuncturists locally who specialize in infertility. They are already my third acupuncture clinic. I don't feel I can go somewhere else. I keep trying to think of acu as just for relaxation purposes, because after all, it does relax me. But after reading The Infertility Cure so many times, I suppose I'm still looking for that magical moment when everything comes into balance and I can get pregnant. I guess I'll set up a couple of appointments with an acu in the Big City, for when I go to visit Big New Clinic, but that won't exactly have long to have an effect.

Just why is this so fucking hard all the time?

Dither, dither, dither

I am still struggling mightily with the decision of which clinic to go to. Do I just trust that Big New Clinic is the one? Or do I do as has been suggested, and set up consultations with others too? But then how to I make the decision at the end of the day? I'm not going to be basing it on who cracked the best jokes, and how do I really know if one clinic's EPP is going to be better for me than another's coculture or another's Lovenox. Or whatever. It's all just guesswork. My horoscope for the day says:

A difficult decision isn't going to get easier, no matter how long you wait.
Find a quiet spot and search your heart and mind for clues as to how to proceed.
Looking for a definite lead will provide you with direction.

Pretty apt, huh? But where, pray, does one find this definite lead that will provide me with direction? If I had a definite lead, I wouldn't be still struggling on this, now would I?

I can drive!! And other ramblings

My appointment at the DMV went well today, and I am cleared to drive. Woo-hoo! I know it's only been 11 days, but man, the bus/cycle deal was starting to drag. Especially this morning when two people (including me) wanted to get off at the stop nearest my work, and I of course was at the back bus door which the driver for some reason didn't open as she didn't see me. Presumably she thought the lady getting off at the front door was the only one who wanted out. Various patrons shouted "back door!" to alert her, so I guess it happens every now and then, but that didn't stop her from just driving on to the next freakin' stop. So I had to walk back. Cursing all the way.

And of course, I don't have an actual license yet, but just a temporary permit. Which is a regular piece of paper that they print some crap out on, and then sign. In black pen. I wondered about the black pen thing last time too, because it'd be so easy to photocopy the thing and alter it if you wanted to. And it says right on there that photocopies aren't allowed, you must carry the original document, but who the eff would know? They are mailing the new license to me. Oh please let it have an expiry date that is more than 6 months from now. Oh please, oh please. I don't want to have to go back to the DMV for a looong time.

In other IVF ramblings, I started the paperchasing to set up the next round of fun. Got my new patient form sent off to Big New Clinic, and got the records release form sent off to the current RE to have my medical records sent to me. I'll be interested in what's in my file when it comes. There are so many tests that I've done which I've just been told are normal, but hey, I think it'd be nice to see exactly what my TSH level is, or my prolactin level, or whatever else they tested for. I also can't even remember half the tests I've done, so can't even answer anyone if they ask if I'd had X test. Uh, maybe?

I am also trying to decide if I should set up other phone consultations or not. I mean, perhaps it would be sensible to see what three of these top clinics say I should do next, and maybe even get some testing done, before I cycle again. It'd probably mean delaying the cycle a bit, but what if one of the clinics found something that is fixable? Isn't it worth a few hundred extra dollars to speak to some of these gurus? But then again, it's a whole heap of stress to have to run around and set all that up. So, as usual, I am stuck.

I also realized that, as my employer has an office in the city in which Big New Clinic is located (and at least one other top place), I might be able to work part-time while I am cycling there. Which would mean less time off, which would mean potentially being able to do this twice this year if I have to. I don't think it'd be too stressful to take a couple of long projects with me, and sit in another office for 4 hours a day. It wouldn't be as bad as having people bug me all day, and having all the small day-to-day deadlines to meet.

The post I didn't write yesterday

I had my IVF follow up meeting with my RE yesterday. I should have updated here, but I didn't have the energy.

It did not go entirely according to plan. At least not to my plan. It seems that my doctor is basically giving up on me. He has recommended that if I want to cycle again with my own eggs, I should go to another clinic. He recommended both Cornell in NY and CCRM in Denver, but ultimately, he said if he was telling his sister where to go, it would be to Cornell.

I asked if I did cycle again where I am, if he'd have any thoughts on changes to the protocol. He had none. So, it's totally out for cycling again where I am, as I'd only want to do it if there was something different going on.

I asked what I should do about my one lonely frozen embryo. We have held off trying an FET because of there being only one embryo, as ideally we'd like to start with two or three. But I haven't managed to produce any extras. My gut feeling is that I should leave it where it is, and do another fresh cycle. If my problem really is egg quality, it's not going to improve with age, and maybe a few extra months really will make a difference. Also, the frozen embryo is my last chance for a sibling, probably. If the IVF works, I can come back in 2 years and try the FET, and at least I'll have tried. If the FET works, there's no way a fresh IVF will work in 2 years. And to be honest, I don't know if I have the strength to do more fresh cycles. The RE agreed that trying another fresh cycle now and saving the frozen embryo might be a good option.

So, anyway, I feel kind of set adrift. I mean, I know I planned to go to another clinic at some point. I'd just talked myself into doing one last cycle here first. Partly because of the expense and logistical difficulties of doing a cycle out-of-state, and partly because of the time off requirement. I don't think I can take two 10-day vacations in a year, and by next year, my eggs may have shrivelled up and died. So if I do an out-of-state cycle now, it may truly be my last one.

The good thing about the RE booting me out rather than me choosing to go elsewhere is that he offered to do all the necessary tests and monitoring that will be required here before I go. He even offered to call the head guy at whichever clinic I choose (because he knows them both), and talk to them if I feel I'm not getting good enough service. It does seem like he genuinely wants this to work for me, and isn't just trying to think of his own bottom line. Well, he's probably also thinking of his statistics, which, let's face it, I've been crapping all over.

And clearly, the universe is also giving me a nudge to get moving on things, and not just wallow around doing cycle after cycle where it is not working for me. I don't know yet if it is pushing me to somewhere that will get me pregnant, or pushing me towards adoption or giving up, but it is certainly pushing me along some path or other.

I have given the matter some thought, and have made an appointment for a telephone consultation at one of the clinics. You know me, always in to striking while the iron is hot. It is set for January 30th. It's costing $550, which almost caused me to drop the phone with the scheduling lady. Holy effing crap! This is going to be an expensive undertaking. I may or may not try a telephone consultation somewhere else as well. I'm not going to mention the name of the clinic that I have chosen, because I want to be able to rant about frustrations, etc, and I don't think it's fair to publicize which place it is that I'm ranting about. I'm sure you'll figure it out. I'm sure I'll be talking about booking flights to ... and trying to find a hotel in... and it'll be blindingly obvious. Let's just say I'll be flying on Jet Blue rather than America West. But down the line, I don't want to be easily google-able. Just like I haven't mentioned the name of the current RE. Might have to come up with some nicknames though, otherwise it'll be tough to figure out who or what I'm talking about.

A comedy of errors

I set off for home on my bicycle last night at about 5.50pm. I'm bowling along nicely, not very far from work when I hear "POP! slap, slap, slap, slap." Groaning, I stopped the bike, checked both wheels, and nothing. I couldn't find anything on the tires, and they didn't seem to be deflated. I continued on, slowly. I could still hear "slap, slap, slap" and I could feel that something was stuck in one of the tires. I stopped again. That time I found a screw sticking in the back tire. But the tire still didn't seem to be deflated. I went to pull it out, and then thought better of it, as I thought that maybe the screw was stopping up the hole that it had made. I set off again, somewhat gingerly, hoping that maybe I could get most of the way home before having to walk. This time I can hear "slap, slop, kthock, kthock, kthuuungk." I get off the bike again. The tire was completely flat. I guess I had managed to dislodge the screw enough to let the air escape. Great.

So, did I turn around and go back to work? Well, I thought about it, but then I'd have to find a way to get the bike back home at some point and that seemed to be a lot of effort. Did I call someone to come and pick me up? Um, no, because the batteries on my cell phone had died because I usually use the car charger to keep it running. Bad me hadn't bothered to hunt for the regular charger when I knew I should have. So I decided to walk home. After a very short distance, I thought about how pointless it was to walk home, when there was a perfectly good bus route not very far away, and off I went.

I got to the nearest bus stop at 6.12pm. I looked down the street. Nothing. I'd looked up the bus timetable last week, just in case, and I remembered that the buses were about every 15 minutes or so. So I thought, well, instead of wasting time just sitting here, I'll just walk to the next bus stop, and check down the street every time. Because of course I couldn't possibly just sit there in case a whole ten minutes went by! And what do you know, as I was just about precisely mid-way between that stop and the next one, a bus went past. Cursing my brilliant decision making skills, and obviously excellent timing, I figured that seeing as the next one would be probably another 10-15 minutes, I may as well keep walking. By the third bus stop there was actually a timetable posted. The buses were scheduled to arrive at 6.05, 6.10, 6.15, 6.35 and 6.55. Great, I thought, that must have been the 6.15 and now I have twenty minutes to wait! So I continued on. And lo and behold, again as I was midway between stops, another bus went past. It was 6.25pm.

Dagnammit.

OK, I thought, that must have been the 6.15 that was running late. So I have at least 10 minutes to the next bus, and I'll keep walking a little bit further, thinking that at the rate I was going, I may as well end up walking all the way home after all. I walked to one more bus stop, and the road was starting to turn a little seedier. I was just thinking that this was getting ridiculous, and that my feet were starting to hurt when a black guy went past me on his bike, and shouted out "I'll trade ya!". Harrumph. Kick a girl when she's down, why don't you? I said, "yeah I've got a flat", probably more pathetically than I'd intended. He circled around in a parking lot, and said "are you going to get the bus?". I'd reached the bus stop by this point, so I said, "yup". "Oh," he said, "do you want a bus pass?" "What?" says I, "do you have one that isn't completely used up?". It turned out that he did, an all day pass that hadn't even been started yet, that he gave me. I asked if he wanted anything for it, and he said he'd take a dollar, so he could get a nice beer later. I happily parted with a dollar, as I knew that the fare was $1.25.

Then I said "well, I would have traded you the bike, but mine's probably a bit too girly for you!". It has pretty cherries painted on it, and a basket in the front. "Nah," he says, "that's a CADILLAC of a bike, that is, I'd fix it right up". Um, I wasn't aware that it was that obvious! So I said I'd fix it up myself when I got home. He said he'd better be off, and I sat waiting for the bus. I was not going to make the mistake of walking off again.

The bus came at 6.41pm. I had to get the bus driver to show me how to work the bike rack at the front, and how to swipe the buss pass. I felt pretty pathetic and obvious to everyone as a bus novice! My stop arrived, I got off, manhandled the bike off the bike rack, and who should come to a screeching halt as he pedalled down the sidewalk but the same guy that had given me the bus pass! "Man, that's amazing" he said. I was like "wow, we got here at the same time!" We kind of looked at each other, both amazed at the bizarre timing, with goofy grins on our faces. But I was then secretly thinking, damn, now he knows where my stop is, is this a bad thing?, until he said goodbye and pedalled off. And I felt like a heel that just because he was a black man on a bike, I'd deemed him as potentially dangerous. When he was actually just a nice guy.

I got home at 7.04pm. 1 hour and 15 minutes. When if I'd walked all the way without detouring and stopping at bus stops, it'd probably have taken me an hour and a half. Maybe a tad longer. But at least I didn't have blisters. This morning, I learned my lesson, and sat and waited at the first bus stop. It took me 35 minutes, door to door, 10 minutes of which was sitting at the bus stop, waiting. I could probably time it better next time.

I have an appointment to try to get my driver's license back on Thursday, so we'll see how that goes. But, given that riding the bus really wasn't bad, I may end up taking it occasionally, just because I can.

The IVF book

I have this IVF book, where I have been writing down questions about my cycles. I take it to my follow up and planning meetings, so I don't forget to ask something important. It used to be full of long, wordy questions. I have pages of them for every cycle (it's a small notebook, so it doesn't take much to cover a page). This time, the entry for cycle #5 is:

Dexamethasone
Estrogen priming protocol
Metformin
2nd opinion - where?

There, that's it. That's everything I've come up with to ask the RE at my appointment on Tuesday.

It's all a bit pathetic, really. Hey, maybe I should use the IVF book to figure out when I'm ready to stop? When I can't think of anything at all to ask about, maybe that should be the hint that it's time to just give up. But, if anyone out there does have any good suggestions of things to ask, feel free to chime in (bearing in mind that I've probably asked most things already!).

In WW news, I lost 3 pounds! Staying away from sodium yesterday really helped after all.

The bureaucracy grinds on

Hey, my visa has been approved! Whoop! But still no driving license. You see, it was processed at the California Service Center (for some reason - hey, let's send this stuff to the other side of the country, even though there are service centers all over the place), and it is winging its way to my attorney by snail mail. Who reckons it'll be another 7-10 days before it gets here. Yup, we paid the additional $1000 fee for premium processing, and it gets sent in the regular mail. No express mail. No priority mail. I'm not even sure why my attorney didn't put a freakin' prepaid FedEx envelope in with the form. I mean, wouldn't you? If you knew that someone was relying on this document for something as basic as their driving license in the good ole U.S. of A. where public transport is pretty much nonexistant outside of New York and maybe San Francisco? If you just coughed up a ton of extra cash for faster processing? Sometimes the sheer idiocy of this whole procedure is just mind-boggling.

Still, my friend A. was so stricken with horror at the thought that I may have to rely on the local Winn Dixie that she has concocted a lunchtime trip to Publix for me. So that's what I'll be spending my lunch doing - grocery shopping! Then we're going to drive to my house, put the groceries away, eat the subs we pick up at the supermarket, and drive back to work. Awww, ain't friends grand?

In diet news, I managed to gain back the 1.5lbs that I lost earlier in the week. How, I don't know. I did use some pretty salty stock cubes, so I hope it is just water retention. Today I will be avoiding salt in the hope that I don't post a weight gain in my first week at WW, when everyone else presumably loses about 5lbs!

C'est la vie.

Behold!!

Le chat!



It's all still very point- and click-y with the new camera, but here is my first effort. By the way, clearly dial-up internet access, even with the handy dandy surfing accelerator, is clearly not a good fit with photo uploading. I've been meaning to go to DSL, so maybe this'll encourage me to get off my arse and do it.

Oh, and in respect of the name change, no I haven't been outed. As far as I know. But once I started mentioning things beyond infertility (IS there anything beyond infertility??), I just thought it might be a bit easy to discover me. I guess I live in fear of big brother, er, Google, revealing everything about me to someone from my real life.

Move along, nothing to see here

I changed my name for signing my posts. You can still see my name in the blog title, but ya know, anonymity is good, and all that. Maybe I'll be a tad less discoverable this way.

There's not much going on chez moi. Day 3 with no driving, and I'm already going crazy as I'm totally bored with all the food choices I have at home, but alas only have a Winn Dixie in walking or biking distance. Well, and a pizza place which I'd really quite like to go to, but I must resist, and an Ihop and a nasty chicken and seafood joint, both of which are quite easy to resist. Yesterday I cycled to work but today got a ride from a friend as it was raining. And unfortunately said friend had to leave work early so I have to rely on a not-so-reliable other friend for the ride home. Hmmm, we'll see how that goes. Day 4 on the diet, and as of this morning I'm down 1.5lbs, which is great. I may be able to bid farewell to the "enormously fat pants" pretty soon. Well, I know, not that enormous, but I had my "fat pants" size, then had to go up to the "super fat pants", and when I had to go up yet another size I had to come up with some sort of name! This of course is in addition to the "average" size, the "where I'm happy" size, and the "where I really want to be" size, all of which I also have in my closet. Surely I can't be the only person with 6 different clothing sizes?

The big exciting news of the day though is that my new camera arrived! The batteries are charging as I type, and I expect the cat will be chased around the house tonight for practice shots. Prepare for an upgraded, now-including-pics type of blog really soon!

A merry New Year, one and all

I have calmed down about the DMV. It took a long time, and a very miserable sleepless night, punctuated with thoughts of murder, wishes that I had been better about making them see how unjust they were being, and wishes that they had just been a little bit more human.

But I figured that this whole immigration thing is just another endurance test. Like infertility. Somehow, I am "blessed" with two endurance tests at once. Either I give up and go back to England childless and jobless, and live the rest of my life feeling like I am a failure and a quitter, or I keep moving forward somehow. When it all boils down to it, it is a simple choice. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, or retreat and lick your wounds.

Hopefully I will be without a license for less than 2 weeks, so hopefully it will be bearable. I guess I will be doing a lot of cycling, so maybe it'll help kick start my diet. I have finally joined Weight Watchers, so hopefully this will enable me to lose some of the weight I have piled on during TTC. I figure if I can't be pregnant, at least I can be skinny. And if I am delayed in doing IVF again, at least I can go into it at a healthier weight.

I keep trying to look forward into 2007, but it is difficult so I am trying not to do it too often. When I do, it seems that 2007 could well be the last year for trying to get pregnant with my own eggs, and that is a scary thought.

Grounded

This was supposed to be the "immigration sucks ass" post, but I don't have the energy to tell you ALL my immigration woes. Instead, I'll just tell you about one. I am grounded. The DMV refused to renew my driver's license.

You see, they set the driver's license to expire about two weeks before my visa expired. Now, normally I would have had the visa renewal documents by now, but USCIS decided to approve my immigration petition just around the time we were going to petition to renew my visa for 1 year. Woo-hoo, you would think, I'm legal! But no, because of a cock up at my employer, they filed under the wrong fucking employment category, and even though I'm approved as an immigrant, I now have to wait about 3 years for the quota to open up in the crappy category that they put the application under. So, no green card yet. Even though I'm approved for it. Well, while we were sorting out all that approval stuff, we couldn't apply for a 1-year visa renewal, and had to wait until it was all finally finally approved before we could then apply for a 3-year renewal. All fine and dandy, except the visa renewal documents haven't arrived yet. The holidays haven't helped.

The DMV first tried to make me feel like an idiot for turning up without the right documents, but I asked them what else I could have done - I got the last possible appointment before my license expired, in the hope that the documents would be here, and I hoped they would at least give me a 30-day temporary permit. No such luck. No temporary permit because my visa expires in less than 30 days. How about a 15-day permit then? Nope, no such thing. So I was rudely turned away, and told that I cannot drive from January 1st. They give even drunk drivers the ability to drive to work, but not me. I have to wait until my visa approval document arrives (the ORIGINAL document, mind you, none of your photocopies or scans). I can't drive to work. I can't drive to the supermarket. I can't drive to my appointment with my RE. I can't drive to see my 90-year old grandpa who is over visiting from England. I can't drive fucking anywhere.

Well, let me rephrase that, I asked if I was legally allowed to drive. They said no, but I was a big girl and could make my own decisions and live with the consequences. I said "are you telling me to break the law?" They said "no ma'am, but you're a big girl and you can make your own decisions". Like fuck am I going to break the law, because I just know if I get caught it'll mean deportation or some other ridiculously out of order punishment, just because I'm not a US citizen.

Bastards.

Fucking bastards.

It was the rudeness that really got me. Like it was my fault that all this was happening. I tried to explain that their OWN website says that the driver's license should expire with the visa, but they just blew me off and said that they no longer go by the visa expiry date. Oh yeah, well why refuse me a temporary permit because my visa expiry date is less than 30 days away? They just told me to stop wasting their time and come back when I'd received the relevant documents.

Bastards.

I had to pull the car over on the way home because I thought I was going to faint as I was hyperventilating so much. My hands were shaking so much I could barely hold the steering wheel. I bawled and sobbed and sobbed some more in this parking lot on the edge of a busy road. I tried to do some deep breathing, and eventually calmed enough to continue driving home. But then tried to call a buddy and ended up sobbing more while explaining the situation to him. And then sobbed some more when I called the family to explain why I wouldn't be going to visit for New Year.

Fucking bastards.

Immigration has been nothing but stress, hassle and bureaucratic nightmares. And the US wonders why it has such a problem with illegal immigrants - maybe it should stop fucking making life a misery for the ones who are trying to do it legally.

Insurance sucks ass

I hate insurance companies. Have I mentioned that before? I'm sure I have, but just so everyone is clear on this point, I HATE insurance companies!

They pay nothing for my fertility treatments.
They pay nothing for any of the expensive drugs whose only use is in fertility treatments. But I can have other drugs, like Viagra, purely for enjoyment if I want them. And I can have therapy after the fertility treatments have failed.
Although my insurance policy covers some acupuncture, it is only to be used for pain relief, so although I could lie and ask my acupuncturist to lie, silly old honest me pays full price for it.

I could go on, but as everyone has their own woes with insurance companies (or the NHS), we'll leave it there.

But I got a letter yesterday. From a subrogation company that has been contacted by my insurance company, demanding that I tell them if my physical therapy in September (at Clear Passage) was due to an accident. Because they want to sue the other party involved in the accident so they can reclaim some of the money. Now, they only reimbursed me $1200 out of the bill of $5200 in the first place, because of all their insurance company tricks of only paying 60% of what they think the service should be in the first place. But now I have to tell them if it was an accident or not? Just to treat some pain? Which is supposed to be covered by my effing policy. So, I duly put down my horseriding accident from 1982, and I'd like to see them come after me for the name of the riding instructor or stable. Given that I remember neither of these, that any statute of limitations will already have passed, and that said riding stable was in England, I doubt whether they'll be suing anyone. Except maybe me, for daring to try to claim for treatment for pain/pelvic adhesions. Presumably I was supposed to have been on prescription pain pills all this time to prove that it was real pain.

In other words, Insurance sucks ass.

Tomorrow, or maybe Saturday, we'll have the "Immigration sucks ass" post. I'm sure you're looking forward to it. I have an appointment tomorrow with the DMV to renew my driver's license. Which I last renewed in July, but they only gave me until January 1st. My visa runs out in the middle of January, but they keep renewing my license to periods somewhat before the visa expiry period. Which they are NOT supposed to do, as they are supposed to expire at the same time. So, I have to go down to the DMV, which we all know is a boatload of fun, without all the necessary documents in hand, because although the visa renewal documents are expected shortly, they haven't arrived yet. Because my visa hasn't expired, so why would USCIS act any quicker than they need to, as there should be no reason for me to have to prove that my visa has been renewed yet. Duh. And of course, there are other ramifications too, but I won't go into them here. But, immigration woes have been sucking up a lot of my time and energy lately. If it all goes horribly wrong, I may be making an emergency trip to England in the next few weeks, just to be able to drive. Tossers. Immigration sucks ass.

Girding my loins

I just don't seem to be bouncing back from this IVF as quickly as I did previously. I think it's because I'm finally facing reality that I might never have a child that is biologically related to me. And because I'd got my hopes up with my good quality embryo and then the faint lines on Accuclear.

The tears continue to leak out at odd moments. I continue to catch my breath at a possible child-less future. I allow myself to stare into that loneliness and try it on for size.

But, slowly, slowly I can feel hope start to creep back in. I am trying to do lots of positive thinking and visualizations, and I don't feel despair any more when I tell myself that there's no reason to believe that I can't produce a good quality egg. I know that there is still a chance. So that is what I am hanging on to now. It may not be as good as visualizing that all my eggs are great quality and that I'll get 12 perfect embryos next time, but it's as good as I can get right now. The thought that I can produce a good quality egg if conditions are right.

I am trying to control my food intake though. I have noticed that, although I thought I bounced back emotionally from the previous IVF failures, I definitely sought refuge in comfort food for a lot longer amount of time. So clearly there was some unprocessed emotion going on. This time, I want to try to control my blood sugar and my alcohol intake. I am wondering if blood sugar can affect egg quality - if I am ingesting a lot of ice cream, cookies, cake and chocolate, perhaps that is not helping. I found one study about blood sugar levels in non-PCOS women being a predictor of IVF success. So that's my plan for this time - get on Weight Watchers to monitor portion sizes, be stricter about only eating healthy food, and don't get smashed at all before the next cycle. I'm allowing myself a glass or two of wine on any day that I feel the need, but definitely want to keep it to two glasses maximum on any one day. I forced myself onto the scale today, and it was not good. I now need to lose 28 lbs to get back to being a normal weight for my height. Or 48 lbs to get to my ideal weight. Sigh. But, hopefully I will be able to force myself to go to the WW meeting on Saturday so I can start getting serious about not cheating.

I'm actually looking forward to my IVF consultation, which is a nice change, as up to now I was dreading it, so that's good. I still haven't called about a second opinion, as I still can't decide on which clinic to go with, so I think I'll wait until after I've discussed the whole thing with my RE.

P.S. (edited to add) I bought the camera! Having discussed it with my buddies at work, I decided that I didn't want to spend the extra cash on a printer right now, especially as I should be saving for the next IVF but I could use the gift cards to pay for camera accessories that I will need, like a 1GB memory card, more batteries, and a travel case. And buy the camera from the cheap internet place. Yay! So, coming soon to this blog - pictures! We're moving up in the world.

Dull dull dull

Well, that was dull. There was much waiting around for my aunt to shuttle between families. The big "family" meal where we were all finally together was on two tables, and her husband's family all squabbled over being on the "cool" table (theirs, naturally), leaving us with the maiden aunt and octogenarian family friend. Husband's 21-month old grandchild was cooed over ad infinitum and ad nauseum. My aunt suggested that she and I disappear for a while to go visit her best friend, as best friend's 10-month old grandchild was visiting. I declined and tried to explain that although I want a baby, I do not want the company of too many other people's babies, as it just reminds me of that which I may never have. I may have got the message through that babies = pain, but maybe not. I started to weep when "Eleanor Rigby" came through the CD system. All the lonely people, indeed.

In happier news, it was nice to see my grandpa, though he has aged a lot in the last year, and requires a cane now. It's always nice to see my aunt. Um, I got some cool earrings, and a salt crystal lamp which is supposed to send out healing energy. Whatever helps, right?

I also got a $50 gift card to a certain big box electronics retailer. I still haven't spent the $40 gift card to the same electronics retailer I got last year, so I decided that I'd add the two together, and finally get me a digital camera. I perused my aunt's collection of Consumer Reports (she must have got a free subscription, because it isn't the usual magazine she'd get, but hey, it was handy). I decided on the right model for me. The list price is $350, so I figured $90 in savings would make it more reasonable. But of course, I had to go and check the old internet first, didn't I? Not only does big box retailer not have a discount on this particular model, they will charge me tax on the item as they have stores in Florida and so are supposed to do that sort of thing, bringing my total to $372. But I can get it from the normal places I buy electronics from for $264. With free shipping. And no tax. So even with the $90 off using the gift cards, it's still no different to buy from some dodgy mail order place in New York or wherever it is. And it would just freakin' annoy me to waste $90 just so I can get this particular camera from the big box place, when for $2 more I can just get it somewhere else. Which leaves me, yet again, with gift cards which I may not spend. Unless I manage to find a good camera which said big box retailer does have a discount on, but then it won't be a Consumer Reports best buy. Grrr. I suppose I could get some CDs, or maybe a printer, but I just know I'll go through the same deal with the printer, and find it cheaper from some internet retailer. Although the printer I want to get is $150 or so, so I doubt I can find the same thing with $90 off somewhere else. Why is shopping so complicated these days? For that matter, when did life get so complicated?

Merry (?) Christmas

Well, here we are, another Christmas without a child. Another "adult" Christmas where we can sit around and exchange presents in a sensible, quiet manner, without any kids waking us up at 5am to see if Santa has been. It's all so wrong. Christmas morning should involve ripping wrapping paper at some ungodly hour, followed by shrieking children running around the house trying out their new toys. There's no joy in being polite and adult. There's no joy in having breakfast first and doing the crossword while waiting for everyone to appear. And then of course there are no fun presents either. It's all very nice, and all, don't get me wrong, but I don't want nice. I want shrieking excitement.

And then of course I have to do the obligatory phone calls to the family in England. And to all of them I'll be saying that I'm fine, but I won't have any tales of interesting things that I've done lately. Because all I've done this year is IVF after IVF after IVF. And I'm really not fine. But of course I will be lying through my teeth, because they really don't want to hear that I'm not fine and that I've failed so many IVFs when they've just watched the Queen's speech on TV and are settling down to another glass of sherry.

Bah humbug. I guess all I can do is hope that next Christmas I will have a little one, or at least I will be pregnant and happy. And until then, I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other so I can somehow endure.

But anyway, merry merry to you and yours. If you celebrate. And if you don't, I hope you get to have a lovely day off work.

I have finished the Domar book, by the way, and it was great. I highly recommend it if you're dealing with this shit too. She even had a chapter on how infertility affects singles and lesbians. Woo-hoo! It was so nice to be included and validated. And Belleruth is still making me cry with the meditations, but it's more of a leaking of tears than sobbing and wailing. But damn it, she says all the right things.

Amazon delivers

My new book and CD arrived last night, and I have to say that so far they are both pretty promising.

The book, Conquering Infertility by Alice Domar, seems to be a very well rounded look at the emotional aspects of infertility, and includes various coping strategies. I'm only up to chapter 5, but so far so good. I have definitely resonated with a lot of what she says in there about depression, frustration and stress. The CD, Guided Meditations Help for Infertility by Belleruth Naparstek, also seems very good. I've only played one meditation so far, but it left me with tears streaming down my face, sobbing and crying out "yes....(gasp, sob)......yes....(gasp, sob).......yes" in agreement with everything she was saying. I have tried the Anji meditations, but unfortunately often fall asleep before they even get to the guided imagery part (far too much general relaxation stuff ahead of the good stuff if you ask me), and I've borrowed and played Julia Indichova's CD which was better but still not really my style. So I hope that I'll be able to get a lot of use out of this CD. I played it again this morning, and managed not to sob, so we'll see how I do.

I definitely needed to work on the mind-body stuff, as I need to get my hope back before the next cycle. It's currently taken a little holiday, and while it might occasionally send me a postcard or two, saying "hey, why not us?", so far it is staying away. I'd like to think that I can still do this, and still make it work. I try to think about the people I have heard of who did multiple multiple IVFs and succeeded eventually. The trouble is, I know of painfully few people who did multiple multiple IVFs and then managed to have a successful pregnancy. I wish I knew of more so that I could think about them and hold them out as an example to myself. While doing one or two IVFs is very very scary indeed, continuing on past 4 cycles is so unbearably scary that it really does require a level of bravery that I haven't had to call on before. Except maybe that time in Vladivostock where I hid in the toilets for a few hours shaking before boarding the trans-Siberian express a day early with no food or roubles, because the Russian travel agent messed up and put me on the wrong damn train. And thought I must be a man as I was traveling alone, so had booked me to share a compartment with "other" men. And warned me that I'd probably be raped or killed, and I must be completely crazy to be a woman traveling alone. Yes, that type of bravery. Or is it bravado? That's the level we're talking about now. The type of courage that you have to pull from the deepest recesses of your soul, so that you can square your shoulders and walk into battle knowing full well that you may never come out of it again.

And yes, I had a lovely time on the train, thankyouverymuch. One of my compartment mates was a small time gangster who changed my dollars into roubles, and the other was a general in the army who spoke English. By the time I got off in Moscow a week later, I had a military escort to my hotel, had had ice cream on the platform in such icy Siberian weather that it hurts your lungs to breathe, had had wonderful food that the other passengers shared with me, watched a Belgian porn movie in first class with my buddies, had learned a few words and phrases of Russian, learned a new card game and had generally been taken care of.

If only I knew that this would turn out positively as well, squaring my shoulders and walking into battle would be a lot easier. But that's the problem isn't it? You just don't know in advance, and while it's OK to breathe a sigh of relief after it's all worked out OK and tell yourself that you knew it was all going to be fine, you're really kidding yourself. Nobody knows in advance whether they are going to come out OK or not OK. And that's why it's hard to put one foot in front of the other.

In clinic news, I've emailed my RE asking him for his recommendation of where to go for a second opinion. Hey, why not? I think he'll be honest. No response yet, but then again, I don't think he's really up on the whole email thing. I called Cornell, and found out that only 3 of the doctors do telephone consultations, and I couldn't get myself excited over any of them really. I know it is the protocol, and the embryology lab, that will make the difference, not the actual doctor, but it's so hard to think of someone else, when I happen to think my RE is pretty darn great. Oh well, there's plenty of time to figure this out.

Back on the treadmill

Well, I'm pretty much decided. I'm going to do another IVF cycle. I was going over my bank accounts yesterday, and figured out if I take X amount from here, Y amount from there, cash in Z mutual fund, and file my tax return electronically really effing early so I get the rebate quickly, I can make the financing work.

The remaining thing left to decide is where to do it. Do I do it with my current RE, who I know and love, and who has been working with me over the whole stims protocol thing, or do I go to a fancy place like CCRM or Cornell? I'm wary of SIRM because they are so in your face about how much better they are than everyone else, and yet won't release their stats in the same form as everyone else, because the stats are misleading. Riiight. Cornell's stats for 2004 for my age group were a full 10% lower than my clinic's. 10% is huge in this business. H U G E. Now of course, Cornell's patients may be 90% difficult cases that come to them from failures at other clinics, and that could account for the difference. But still, 10% is a lot to think about. CCRM has better stats, of course, but I hear that they turn people away if their cases are too difficult. And let's face it, if anyone is at high risk for being turned away, it's me.

So I don't know what to do. I guess I'll try for a consult, maybe at Cornell, as a second opinion, and see what they say. I'm worried that all these other clinics will look at my age, history and results and say that I should be on the ganirelix/cetrotide protocol (sorry, I have a mental block over whether that's the agonist protocol or the antagonist protocol - I think antagonist, but I'm not sure). I'm very concerned about trying that protocol, because all my poor results have been because of a dominant follicle situation and I don't think ganirelix can fix that. So I think I'd have another poor result if I tried it. I don't know, but I want an RE to tell me positively that I wouldn't before trying it out, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't ever give me a 100% certainty on anything. I really think I want to try another long lupron protocol.

Oh well, much to think about. I've ordered a "coping with infertility" book, and a mind-body CD thing from Amazon to give me some light reading over the holidays. Hopefully they won't be a crock of shit as half the other things I've bought over the years have turned out to be.

And in other news, I received a catalog in the mail yesterday from the sperm bank, and the donor I have been using for the IVF cycles is back in the program. He'd previously sold out. It would be so tempting to buy more vials, as I really like this donor, but I promised myself that if I did more cycles after this (yes, there's a chance that I'll be even more of a weirdo and go on to IVF #6), I'd change donor. But Ididn't see any others in the catalog that caught my eye. Sniff. Maybe I should look on it as a sign that I will finally get pregnant and then be able to try for a sibling in a couple of years. Yeah right, like getting a sibling will be easy! Like I'll be able to walk past the vial and get knocked up because I'm so fertile. That's me, all over, that is, fertile myrtle.

At the crossroads of indecision

Thank you for the hugs and comments. It means a lot.

I'm still here. Don't know what to say, really. I'm very very sad. Well, let's face it, I'm crushed. I really, truly don't know if it's ever going to work for me. If I'm ever going to have that child. And I don't know if that's a truth that I can face. I'm still not ready to move on to adoption or DE, and frankly, don't know if I ever will be. There's a third choice that we don't talk about enough in the IF world, and that's living child-free. It's all very well to say "you WILL be a mom, one way or another", but that's only if we choose to continue. If we choose to get off the rollercoaster and go in another direction entirely, that's another perfectly valid choice.

But how on earth do you do that? How do you make the decision to let go of the dream entirely? I just don't know at this point. I feel like a part of me is dying inside. I just feel so heartbroken to take that path, but right now it is calling to me more than adoption or DE is. Well, partly it's the ease factor that is calling me. Stopping is just that. Stopping. Sure, I might have to do some therapy, but therapy may be in my future anyway, and at least insurance will pay for that. Adoption is so so difficult to contemplate, particularly as I can only do domestic adoption and the thought of a birthmother changing her mind after going through everything to get to that point is way too scary. And DE isn't a guarantee. Many women fail a DE cycle, and that must be so crushing, I can't even imagine it. Both adoption and DE seem to be very difficult and expensive paths to take, and I don't know if I have the energy for those journeys.

My current thinking is that I may do one last IVF cycle. And then if that doesn't work, try the FET with the one frozen embryo that I have, and then call it quits. For good.

I know that thinking may change, but that's where my head is at. I honestly don't know at this point in time whether I have the strength to go through another IVF cycle, and I feel a bit like a freak for even considering another one. I mean, who does 5 IVF's? I haven't come across that many people, and most of them are Australian where the government will pay for the IVF's. Who, apart from rich celebrities, pays for this many cycles out of pocket? It just seems like the utmost foolishness - throwing good money after bad, doing the same thing again in the hopes of a different outcome.

And how do you keep the hope alive? How do you pick yourself up and do it again? I know it's too early for me to be trying to conjure up hope, and I know that in a couple of months things will be different. But, god, it's so fucking hard.

So fucking hard.

But, I have made an appointment for a post-IVF consultation with my RE. I want his honest opinion of whether there's any chance with my own eggs. I know he'll tell me I have a better chance with DE, but I also know he'll cycle again with my own eggs if that's what I want. The appointment isn't until January 9th, so it'll give me some time to get my head together a bit.

We'll see.

Beta was negative

So much for Accuclear.

Sigh

I really wanted to stop doing the whiny "is it positive?" type posts. I really wanted to. I went plum crazy at the store today, and bought four different types of pregnancy tests. Yes, four. I really figured I'd get a positive on a couple of them (maybe all of them!) and I could post triumphantly that I believed.

Clear Blue Easy Digital says: Not Pregnant
Equate says: Not Pregnant
First Response says: Not Pregnant

Accuclear has another faint pink line. Which may be a tad darker than yesterday's faint pink line.

Is Accuclear really that much more sensitive? Am I just getting errors? The test I just tried was from a different lot than the tests I did before. Surely they wouldn't all be crap?

Sigh. Roll on beta results.

Wringing hands and wondering

This morning's pee fest didn't really turn up anything different from yesterday.

The ept is perhaps a smidge darker than yesterday morning's. Definitely darker than yesterday afternoon's, but that's not hard seeing as that one is pretty near impossible to see. Maybe a disinterested person would say "wait, there might be a shadow on here" today. Maybe the scanner would pick it up if the lighting were right. The Accuclear has another faint line, much like yesterday's. Maybe a teeny smidge lighter than yesterday's.

So, I'm still too afraid to say that this is a real positive. Shouldn't they be darker this morning? I mean, it's 14DPO after all! I'd have expected nice dark(ish) lines by 14DPO. Anyway, they are lines and that's what matters, so I'm just going to say I'm cautiously optimistic, but I'm going to wait until good beta results before I actually say the "p" word. The beta is tomorrow, so at least I'll know fairly quickly.

And yes, I'll probably buy more tests tonight and do some more testing later. You know, just in case I'm one of those afternoon people who gets better pee stickage in the afternoon.

P.M. peeing

More tests!

After holding pee for 3 hours and 40 minutes, I tested again. The top one is an ept, the same test as this morning. Looks negative to me. The bottom one is an Accuclear. I think I may like Accuclear!

No! Wait again!!

I scanned the test. It looks negative to me on screen. Bah humbug.



But with the aid of digital trickery, here it is made darker, which shows that there may be a hint of something:



And just for the obsessives, here is the original inverted:

No, wait!

The test dried a bit darker. I'm upgrading it to inconclusive.

You still need POAS squinto-vision, but if you do squint really hard, click your heels three times and hope for the best, there's the merest hint of a faint darkening where a line might be imagined to be.

So, therefore the upgrade: inconclusive.

It would still be negative to a normal person, so don't go getting all excited on me.

And the test says...

Well, I suppose there was no surprise really. Resigned despondency more like.

It was negative.

Well, I should rephrase that. It was negative to any normal person, but to an experienced POAS-er who is prepared to take the case apart, there was the faintest of evaporation lines. Like super faint. Like you'd have to have taken many pee tests to see it. But I've had plenty of evaporation lines in the past and none of them have turned into a real line the next day, so I'm not going to get excited.

Don't know what to feel, really. I think I'm kind of numb at the moment. It looks like my future involves dieting and counting points, and not morning sickness and babies.

Fuck.

Miserable Monday

I've moved on from yo-yo head to just plain inconsolable. I am so miserable. Of course I am in a buddy group on "that" charting site and everyone is getting positives. Everyone. And it was supposed to be safe because it is an IVF veterans group. I just get that sinking feeling that I'm going to be the one left behind again, and I don't want to be there again. I don't want to be the one that gets the "I'm sorry" responses and not the "congratulations" responses. I'm so tired of being that person. I'm just so so scared that this didn't work. It seems so much more damning this time because if it didn't work with my only "perfect" embryo, I don't know what will help it next time. If there is a next time. And it seems so much harder to make the decision to do another cycle. I seem so stuck in my decision making.

Anyway, I have decided I just have to know. One way or another. So I think I'll test tomorrow. It'll be 13DPO, and while there is a chance that it may be too early, I just have to know. I was trying to hold out for longer, but I don't think I can any more. I can't stand living my life just wondering if it failed or not. I need to be able to think positively (and I do try - I can still get myself into a semi-meditative state and be all positive for a short while). But it's just so hard.

So, there you are. Tomorrow I will have an inkling of what the next few months hold.

Yo-yo head

Hi! Welcome to the crazy yo-yo world of Sarah's head! Yes, I have been up and down, up and down, up and down. Culminating this morning in a complete inability to get out of bed, and lying there staring at the ceiling doing nothing. Except thinking about IVF #5. And whether it was even worth flogging my ovaries one more time. I do have one more vial of sperm left, so I'm kind of coming down to doing one last cycle to use it up, then an FET even if my solitary embryo has little chance of making it through the thaw. And then calling it quits. Or maybe doing a DE cycle. Or maybe adoption. Ha, so I really haven't got very much further with my thinking. I do have these imaginings of a child-free life involving going back to school and doing something completely different, but due to my immigration woes I have to stay at my job for another 3 years or so (boo!) so even if I pick that course I have time to figure out what my second career will be.

The only thing I am certain of is that I won't arrange the post-IVF consult until well into the New Year, and I will be doing Weight Watchers if I'm not pregnant. Although I've lost the 3lbs stims bloat weight, there's still the little matter of the other 30 that need to go as well. And yes, I am way up from the last weight I posted on this blog, but let's not go there just yet.

Well, here's the good and bad news so far this weekend:

Good
The acu says I have a deep, slippery pulse. Which Randine Lewis says in The Infertility Cure is a clear sign of pregnancy. Except my body seems to like deep, slippery pulses and I've had them on other cycles. The acu told me it was "good, but could go either way".
I am kind of off my food. Nothing is really appealing, except bland soft cheeses like cottage cheese or mozarrella, or custard. Or cookies. Last nights dinner was rice pudding. Yup, still on the rice pudding kick.
I may be imagining it, but I may have the beginning of a metallic taste in my mouth. Or that could be the aftertaste of Friday night's Indian food still.
I have been cramping. Yesterday I think it was worse than in previous cycles. Today it is milder. It seems more constant than in other cycles, though.
My pee smells sharp. It always does after the trigger, but then fades. Doesn't seem to have faded yet.
I have become obssessed with cleaning my teeth and spraying myself with perfume. It's not that I am smelling bad things really keenly, like pregnant women are supposed to do, but more that I'd rather be smelling nice things. And without all the cleaning and spraying I don't think I do smell nice. Again, could still be just lefover Indian food aftertaste working its way through my pores and mouth. Maybe Indian food is a bad idea late in the 2WW!

Bad
My boobs have deflated and aren't sore any more, even when I poke them. No pert progesterone-filled lovelies any more for me!
In similar boob-related news, I don't have veiny boobs or sticky-out nipples, which would be good signs in my book.
I haven't exactly got a good track record.
I expect it to fail.
I'm a pessimist.

OK, so basically I seem to be pretty positive apart from the boob issue. Except I'm not. I've had so many potential "signs" in past cycles that I tend to discount them all as either figments of my imagination or progesterone side effects.

Poof! It's magic!!

Just like that, ladies and gentlemen, I can magically make all hope disappear at 9DPO. Every cycle. Like clockwork. Hit 9DPO and poof! Despair.

What on earth am I going to do if this cycle didn't work? I just don't know if I can do another IVF cycle. I don't know if I can do donor eggs. I don't know if I can do adoption. I don't know if I can live child-free. I am stuck.

My aunt handily pointed out that I am still ovulating and I'm not yet 40. Which would be fine if I had a husband and hence a ready supply of sperm (assuming it was good sperm of course). Sure, then I could just continue with the acupuncture, call it quits on the ART stuff and try naturally knowing that a miracle could happen in the next few years. But I don't. And I'm not likely to find anyone in the next few weeks. And I'm not ready to just leave everything up to fate, because I have a sneaking suspicion that fate is eyeing me as the crazy cat lady.

So, if I want to keep TTC'ing with my own eggs, either I find a known donor, or I continue with IVF's or I go back to pointless and expensive IUI's with frozen sperm. I suppose I'm stubborn enough to do another IVF, but it's getting kind of embarrassing at this point. 5th IVF? Yup, sounds great! Sign me up! Why not try the same thing again and see if the result will be different (wait, isn't that a definition of madness?). Will my RE even continue treating me at this point? Would it be better to go to an out-of-state place, as had been my original plan if this cycle failed (but I heart my RE and he knows me now, and I keep thinking he has the best chance of putting together the protocol which will finally work).

Then there's donor eggs. I'm conflicted on so many levels about donor eggs. I've been toying again with the idea of using my bro' as a sperm donor, so at least my dad would have one genetically related grandchild. But that could just be so weird. In so so many ways. My aunt, who really doesn't see the point of donor eggs as a single woman because it's not like I have a husband whose baby I want to have asks why I would want to put myself through pregnancy under those circumstances. Uh, because to those of us that haven't experienced pregnancy, it might be kinda cool? And we'd know about the nutrition status of the pregnancy, and that we're not smoking and drinking. And we could breastfeed. She says "why not just adopt?" Well of course, there's always the fact that there's no "just" about it. And I'm limited to domestic adoption, so not only will I be worried that the birth mother was smoking and drinking during pregnancy, she could also change her mind, leaving me devastated. Not to mention that I'd be freakin' broke and emotionally very fragile by the time I got to that point, so I just don't know if I'm strong enough for that whole process.

So you see, stuck.

Doom.

Gloom.

9DPO Despair.

What if, internet? What if it didn't work?

The progesterone saga

Well today was the progesterone blood draw. And the result was an underwhelming 23. Last cycle it was 30. The cycle before it was 17.9. The cycle before that it was 12.7. Blah blah blah. I could go on, with all my lousy results down to 3 the first cycle we tested. I shouldn't complain too much, as it has sloooowly been getting better from an average down around 7 up to now having 3 cycles over the magical 15.

23 is fine. It's within normal range. It's not bad. I tell people all the time that the progesterone result is meaningless. And yet.

And yet, here's the rub. Last cycle and this cycle I have been doing my PIO shots in the morning, about 1.5 hours before the blood draw, because I am also doing progesterone suppositories which the RE told me to do overnight. So you would think that any high result would be because I only just shot up with the stuff, and that it's fairly meaningless. If it was like 70 or something I could say, oh, well, it's higher because it's fresh in my bloodstream. If it's 23 and I only just shot up, surely that means that prior to me shooting up it was lower. Like crappily low?

And how on earth can I be shooting up with 1cc of PIO, putting nasty nasty specially compounded 400mg suppositories up my hoo-ha, and STILL only have a level which some women get on a natural, unmedicated cycle? It's all a bunch of crap if you ask me. Or a bunch of gunk, if we're talking progesterone suppositories, as that's what I've got floating around my nether regions.

Progesterone results are meaningless.

But a nice high number would still have made me very happy today.

I got the Ambrosia rice pudding yesterday, by the way, and it didn't hit the spot either. The custard was yummy goodness, but the rice pudding, not so much. So now I'm on a mission for Kozy Shack, and will probably make my own at the weekend if that isn't good either. But now I feel like it's less like a sign and more like just a greedy phase.

Grumble, grumble.

Food, glorious food

I'm all about food today.

Well, when am I not about food? But what I mean is that today's post is all about food.

I decided to stop at Winn Dixie on the way home last night to pick up a few things. I don't like to, but there's one close to the house and I was feeling lazy. Awful place. [It's a crappy US supermarket for the non-US readers, which I think is basically Katty]. Anyway, I was tootling around and I suddenly decided that I really needed to get some cottage cheese, because a spoonful of cottage cheese might make a yummy snack now and again. Now, my normal average rate of consumption of cottage cheese is approximately 0.0000000000000001 ounces per month. I'm throwing in that "1" in there because maybe once every year or two I am forced to eat something with cottage cheese in it as the only vegetarian option somewhere. I am not a fan. It's all icky and diety and not pleasant. And there was me yesterday, merrily adding a tub to my basket. And I didn't get the yogurt sized pots either, I got me a tub.

Strange, I thought, that I should suddenly want cottage cheese, maybe it's a sign. Because of course in the 2WW everything is a sign, and not just me being greedy.

And then I found myself seized with a desire for rice pudding. Again, I am not a rice pudding eater. I mean, it's OK, but it's not something that I long for. I have maybe one serving of rice pudding a year. Now, I know Publix has rice pudding (Publix being the nicer supermarket that I go to), because my local Publix has a British food section. I kid you not. They have chocolate hobnobs, Branston pickle, curry sauce, PG Tips, several Cadbury's choccie bars, and Ambrosia custard and rice pudding. All in a neat little shelving system with a union jack over the top of it. I don't know who else shops in the British food section, and friends of mine have even called me from Publix in disbelief at some of the food items there ("salad cream? What's salad cream? You people eat this shit?") but I guess there must be enough ex-pats around to keep it going. I started salivating for the Ambrosia creaminess.

I decided the need for rice pudding must be another sign, so I started wandering the aisles of Winn Dixie in the hopes that they may have some. I felt too embarrassed to ask a staff member if they had rice pudding, because I wasn't even sure if Americans ate rice pudding, or if they did, if they called it rice pudding. Maybe it had a more exotic name, and presumbably wouldn't have the word "pudding" in the title as most Americans don't seem to conversant with that one. You'd think I'd know every single language quirk there was by now, but sadly no.

And then I found an aisle which had some pudding snacks. Lo! Americans do use the word "pudding"! There was a vast array of Kraft "handi-snacks" of all types of puddingy varieties. And there, on the shelf, were the rice puddings. I snatched them up. I paid, I zoomed out of there dreaming of my first tast of the rice pudding when I got home. I just about resisted opening the pot right there in the car.

Oh my god, internet, it was foul. It was nasty and synthetic and had a very low rice to pudding ratio and just was not pleasant. I just kept thinking that it's no wonder that so many kids these days are picky eaters if their parents feed them on that type of garbage. Yick. What are we doing, America, that Kraft and other manufacturers put out gross snacks and we feed them to our kids willingly?

So, today, I feel that I may have to stop at Publix on the way home, and buy every last can of rice pudding and Devon custard that they have. Just to take the taste out of my mouth. I didn't dare try the cottage cheese after all that. Maybe another day...

OK, back to ovary gazing

So, I was thinking about the "it only takes one" thing earlier. And don't worry, all threats of violence have long gone and I'm actually thinking happily to myself that it only takes one. But here's the thing, to get one good 3-day embryo over three IVF retrievals/transfers, I went through 28 eggs. And I got one nice 3-day embryo. Which may or may not make it. And I got one not-so nice 3-day embryo that did manage to make to to blast to be frozen. Which may not be all that great anyway.

One potential good one out of 28 eggs. 3 IVF cycles. 14 embryos. One. Good. One. And at this stage it's only a potential good one, because of course I have no idea if it's actually going to implant and stick around to become a real live breathing baby. Which is after all, the point of all this.

Plus, if I add up the mature follicles (and presumably therefore eggs) on the nicely-timed IUI cycles which also had a chance of working, to the eggs retrieved in the IVF cycles, that's 40 eggs which have been instructed to party with some sperm.

So one out of 40 looked good as a 3-day embryo.

That's kind of a sobering statistic.

I mean, now I'm at the happy place of telling myself that it only takes one, because I now have one good one. I have a decent chance, finally, of this working. But that's why it hurts when you get told it only takes one if you end up having a crappy response to the meds. Because by the time you get to IVF, you already know that you've blown through way more than one egg which didn't end up as a baby, so what are the chances that one of your current crop is the golden one. And let's face it, I've been trying for much less time than some other people. Maybe I'm being a tad over sensitive, but that's where my head's at. That's why I bristle at being told it only takes one, especially from fertile people like most of my family and IRL friends who seem to constantly sing out the refrains of "it only takes one", "maybe you need to relax more" and "just think positively". Maybe I'm just not a positive enough person that when I have one mature follicle I can think "oh THIS could be the one!", but instead peevishly demand some sort of extra proof that this could be the one, like some sign from on high, or a nice embryo grade.

And clearly, my RE was right when he told me early on that egg quality was my issue. He's a smart cookie, that one.

Anyway, now, now, now, I am telling myself it only takes one. And it really does. That lucky egg. I hope I found it, because if I didn't, I just don't know if I can keep going at this. I don't know if I have another cycle in me or not.

Roof ripping

Well, I spent the weekend mostly horizontal, though I admit by Sunday it was starting to get difficult, so I ended up cooking up some pasta sauce to freeze. I did take some lying down breaks in between chopping vegetables, so I was mostly good. But then when my friend P. called to ask me out to dinner on Sunday evening, I jumped at the chance. He drove, so I was able to stay fairly slouched in the car. Hey, at least it was more rest than I've got after previous transfers. Not bad really.

And I was having a nice mellow time of it this morning as well, munching on my leftover pizza for breakfast, catching up on some blogs. And then a big old dump truck pulled up in front of the house. Odd, I thought, what are they doing? I was just peering out of the window of the office when a guy knocked on the front door. There was I, total bedhead hair which was even worse than usual from not having bothered to shower on Sunday, in a crumpled t-shirt and knickers, opening the door and feeling like an idiot that I hadn't even run for a robe or something to cover the cellulite. But it had taken a while to secrete the embarrassing cold pizza breakfast back in the fridge so I'd run out of arse covering time. It was the roofing company, there to start ripping up my roof, and they wanted me to move my car out of the way.

Now, I found this somewhat surprising for several reasons. The first being that they hadn't told me that they were coming. The second being that I only signed the contract 8-10 days ago. And the third, and perhaps most important, being that I BOUNCED THE FREAKIN' CHECK that I gave them for the deposit. I didn't post about it because, well, you know there were ovaries to discuss. But yes, I bounced my first check, internet, and of course it was a big one. It wasn't actually my fault. Well, not entirely my fault. I traced it to a software glitch at the mutual fund company that I was transferring some of my rapidly dwindling life savings from. You see, I used to have my checking account at Bank A, and now it is at Bank B. And I changed over all my records. And when I look online at mutual fund company's website, it says "Your Bank: Bank B" so when I arrange a transfer of cash, you would think it would go to the appropriate place. Apparently not, because apparently the software didn't delete the record of Bank A on the "other" side of the screen, so the mutual fund company's employees see that there is a choice between two banks. Of course, OF COURSE, they sent the money to Bank A, where I no longer have an account. So it bounced back to them. And the check I wrote, safe in the knowledge that the money would turn up the next day, also bounced. Yes, I have transferred money repeatedly over the last few months as I've been paying for IVF cycles, and it's always worked in the past. So, why they should decide now to send the money to a defunct account is beyond me. Anyway, I had a frantic time on the phone first trying to figure out what went wrong, get some sort of apology and at least a waiver of fees from mutual fund company, get an overdraft on my checking account (answer = hahahaha are you kidding us?) before I was aware that the check had already bounced, then apologizing to the roofing company.

So you would think, wouldn't you, that the roofing company wouldn't turn up early on a Monday morning, seeing as I've proven myself to be an unreliable customer already. Nope. By the time I got in the shower it sounded like there were two elephants on the roof, skipping. By the time I got out of the shower, it sounded like the original two elephants had been joined by several of their friends and were now having a double-dutch contest right above my head. The cat, at this juncture, decided that the best place to be was under my bed, and I have to say, if I could have fit under there easily, I would have joined her. I don't think I've managed to get dressed and out of the house as quickly in quite some time. I feel a bit bad that I've left the cat to the bad noises, but hopefully it'll only last for a couple of hours. Besides, she's got the primo spot in the house, under the bed, so she's golden.

Single embryo transfer, sort of

The transfer went well. It was very smooth, I got the water drinking correct so my bladder was full but not bursting, and the acu came to the clinic to do a session pre- and post-transfer. In fact, I kind of fell asleep when I was lying on the table after the transfer with the needles in me. Of course, that probably had something to do with the valium I took as well, but hey. Snoozing is good.

But the real news is that I got one good one! I'm pretty happy about it - I got an 8-celled grade 1 embryo. Grade 1 is the best at my clinic, and that's the best embryo I've managed to produce so far. My previous best were an 8-celled grade 2 and a 7-celled grade 2, both on the first ER/ET. Last time the best I got was a 5-celled grade 1. The other two embryos did make it to transfer but they were both 4-celled grade 5's. Which are just about as sucky as they can get and still be transferred, I would guess. In fact, they probably would have been discarded had I had any other embryos.

So, I'm going to look on it as a single embryo transfer, with the best embryo I've ever had. That's not bad, really, and at least gives me one little guy to be positive over.

I know, I'm whiny

I've been trying to think of something to post all day. Mostly I want to thank you guys for commenting and for being positive on my behalf. I just can't do it for myself at the moment, especially when someone tells me to be positive, as most of my family and friends IRL are doing. And telling me it only takes one. So I really appreciate you all. I really do. I promise the threat of knifing has now past, so if you want to post that it only takes one, you may do so freely and I will not inflict any bodily harm.

I'll find out how my three embryos are doing tomorrow. If I'm super duper lucky they'll all be 8-celled grade 1's, and I can quit complaining about sucky egg quality for a while. Let's hope, eh, because I'm sure you don't want to read more whining. Unfortunately last time they were mostly 4-celled which is bad bad bad at day 3. I'm hoping not to have a repeat of that. I think that's why they let me transfer 4 embryos last time, because they were obviously bad quality. So these, assuming none have arrested prior to transfer, will be #'s 8, 9 and 10.

Anyway, I posted a photo of me in my profile, finally. I think there are definitely too many uneven teeth going on - I was obviously doing an especially wide grin for the camera. It's all a bit jaws-like, really. Da-dum. Da-dum da-dum da-dum. Da-DUM! OK, pathetic attempt at the jaws theme there. But there ya go, that's me in all my toothy glory. And for the record, I am not normally that toothy. I'm normally scowling, but I don't exactly have too many photos of me so you'll have to put up with toothy.

Oh, and I did do ICSI if you were wondering. That's why I was so shocked at the low fertilization rate. I've done ICSI on all my cycles, and have now had 70%, 100% and 43% fertilization based on the number of mature eggs retrieved. So it's a bit of a drop this time. Based on total number of eggs, the fertilization rate is 50%, 80% and 33%. Why oh why are all my numbers all over the place? From numbers of eggs retrieved to fertilization rate? Why so temperamental, ovaries?