Freaky deaky

So, has Go***ogle Street View come to your area yet? I mean, I remember the big hullaballoo when it was first introduced and it only had the big cities. I checked out NYC for a couple of minutes, and thought it was mildly interesting. But I was tooling around this morning on the map site, trying to map out a good cycling route to the local community college, and there was the option for street view! They've been out and done my city some time in the past year, and I didn't notice. So up on screen pops my house, in all its glory. With my car sitting in the driveway. And I can go up and down all the local streets. So then of course I have been off exploring, looking at the local park (seriously? Who drives down the road in the park apart from the park maintenance people?), my office building, the supermarket, the fancy shopping street, the elementary school. I don't know why it is so freaky, but it really is. You can rotate the view, look up and down, go down streets, look left and right. Freeeaaaky.

It kind of makes me long to live in a gated community because it doesn't show them as I guess they couldn't drive past the gates. But I don't suppose it'll be long before big brother is in the gated communities too.

I think I might...

try to do a detox over the weekend. I've been eating like a crazy woman with the relatives here, and they are going home on Thursday night. My fingers are feeling arthritic, which they tend to do if I have had too much diet Coke recently (no, really! It's a very noticeable effect with me). I also feel like I have several years of infertility toxins built up, and am feeling the need to clean myself out before I start on the next phase of my life. Not that I expect any actual "cleaning out" but I feel like it might be good to have something to mark the end of that life and the beginning of the new one. It's more of an emotional thing than a physical thing, but I feel the need to have a physical component otherwise it is just more of the same old stuff that I've been doing anyway.

So, Friday is the day. I think I will try for a four-day liquid-only detox, with fresh juices and soups. And lots of water and herbal teas. And if I can continue it beyond four days, then that will be a freakin' miracle but hey, maybe it'll help me jump start myself back onto my diet.

While studying math. Ruh-roh.

Classy action

Oh, I'm so bad. I did hardly any work yesterday. Registration has opened for the fall semester for the local community college. But not for me. No siree. Just for current degree-seeking students. Registration for credit-seeking but non degree-seeking folks like me opens next Thursday. But, you can now see the class schedule, and you can see how many spots are left on each class.

So of course I spent a few hours figuring out the perfect timetable for me, if I can get into the classes I want. And then I figured out an alternate timetable or two, in case some of the classes fill up. And then I spent a while obsessively logging in again to see the "number of spaces left" number going down. I can tell it's going to be a long week. Because of course even though there are a ton of classes, I've now sorta kinda got my heart set on that perfect timetable so it bugs me every time a place gets taken.

I still haven't even taken my placement exams. Even though I promised faithfully that I would study lots of math while I was in Vegas, I didn't do anything. So now this weekend is designated as studying weekend, after the visiting relatives go home. And I'll take the test on Monday morning, hopefully pass, and be able to register for what I want on Thursday. I hope. Provided there are places left. In fact, you'll have to excuse me a moment while I go and check how it's all going...

Cut adrift

I feel so out of it. I'm sure a lot of this is to do with mostly cutting myself off from the internet for 3 days. My out-of-town relatives have been using my laptop, and I have been paranoid that I might leave it logged in to my email account, or to an IVF site, or to an IF blog. I was even so paranoid as to clear a bunch of things out of my favorites so that the relatives couldn't easily see them. They probably know everything anyway through the family grapevine, but I haven't told them about my IVF exploits, and I see no need to now that I have given up. So I quickly snuck on and did a few things, but kept my surfing very minimal.

But it's of course also to do with actually being out of it. In the sense of out of cycling, out of trying. Done. Finito. I have EWCM going on, and I know it's going to be going nowhere. I know that my cycle will eventually settle into whatever it's new normal is going to be, without the constant interruptions of one drug or another. But I can't help but thinking how fertility can be increased in the cycle following an IVF and wondering if I had a partner if it might make me feel any better, in the sense of having a hope of a miracle. Then again, that might make things worse.

So, a long weekend goes by, and other women get further along in their cycles, or in planning for their next cycle and I am sidelined. And the more I think about things, the more I think that adopting while at school would be just craziness, and then worry about whether I'll be able to do it in 3 years' time or if I could stand 3 years of not doing anything about becoming a mother. Maybe I'll decide that I will be child-free after all, not due to any great wish but due to inaction and delay mounting up on me.

I have also been composing a post in my head about the fear of violence. I do believe that we are only perpetuating the violence, and inflicting more of it on ourselves, if we are constantly scared and constantly listening to that voice of doom inside our heads. But I can't do the subject justice yet. Perhaps it's partly a different cultural mindset. But having grown up with IRA terrorism, and yes, with street crime going on, I have always known that violent crime could, and probably would, happen to me. So because I have always expected it, I have always taken what I consider to be sensible precautions and moved on. I have not been blindsided by surprise when things happen. I have also not been paralyzed by fear. Then again, while I have been mugged on my own doorstep, I have never had my personal space invaded so perhaps my thoughts are different from some of yours. I want to acknowledge Bleu's comment from the other day, and say that I am very very sorry that what happened to you happened. But I am not sure that we are helping each other by scaring each other.

The River of Grass

Behold the Everglades.  Or at least, the bit of them that I saw today.

Nervous nellies

That's you lot. You're all nervous nellies. I am fine. I am a sensible girl. I always look through the window before opening the door. I have a panic button right there that feeds into my alarm company, that feeds into the police station. I don't invite people in. I live in a nice neighborhood, but I take sensible precautions. Yet, I would rather live my life slightly at risk of a home invasion by opening the door to someone who may need help, than worrying about it constantly and giving myself an ulcer. And if I do die in a home invasion, you can all tell me that you told me so, but also know that I prefer life this way. I am a believer that when it's your time to go, it's your time, and there's not much that can change that.

In 2005, the death statistics were -

Number of deaths for leading causes of death
Heart disease: 652,091
Cancer: 559,312
Stroke (cerebrovascular diseases): 143,579
Chronic lower respiratory diseases: 130,933
Accidents (unintentional injuries): 117,809
Diabetes: 75,119
Alzheimer's disease: 71,599
Influenza/Pneumonia: 63,001
Nephritis, nephrotic syndrome, and nephrosis: 43,901
Septicemia: 34,136

Homicide is at #15, with 18,124. Which is below drug and alcohol-induced mortality. Now, I'm not saying that #15 is anything to be sniffed at, or that I shouldn't be worried about it. But I am 36 times more likely to die of heart disease than of homicide. Or, given my family history, I'm actually more likely to shuffle off this mortal coil due to stroke or cancer. Or, given the bad drivers around here, due to a traffic accident. And let's face it, the homicide statistics are quite skewed by young men who kill each other in gang incidents.

But, thank you for your concern. It is duly noted. If Dave ever comes back with the money (and yes, I did check yesterday that his car was at the house where he said he was working) I shall tell him that he's not to go knocking on doors late at night as it worries people.

The knock on the door

Not 5 minutes after all the relatives went to bed last night (and no, there was no teeth cleaning or peeing - again), there was a knock on the door. I'm a tad wary of people knocking on the door after dark, and especially after 10pm, but heh, as I'm never one to pass up a good opportunity to find out what's going on in the world, I answered. At least I was still up and dressed, unlike last time there was a night time visitor.

So this guy is standing there, telling me how he's staying at and fixing up the house two doors up, he's a carpenter, and he left his wallet on another job site which is all locked up and he really needs to borrow $10. I mean, the guy launched into this freaky long-ass story about how the wallet is in his toolbox which is locked in the other site, and Alan, who is two streets away isn't in. [Like I was supposed to know who the fuck Alan is.] And I must recognize his car, and he's friends with the gay guys that live in the house, and they asked him to get the house ready to sell. You know, the big one with the bamboo in the front yard. And then how he'd been to two other neighbors to ask to borrow money and they'd turned him down, and one guy came to the door with a gun behind his back. [Hmm, thinks Sarah, why didn't I think of getting a gun, although I have a panic button right next to the front door so I always figure I'll hit that if anything goes awry.] And he can go to Winn Dixie and get some milk, bread and eggs, and he only needs $10 and I can keep his watch as collateral, or his drivers license, and he's a good, honest guy, and blahblahblah. Honestly, I think he was slightly drunk. Or else completely insane. Or just panicked and hungry and not knowing where to turn.

Well, after that song and dance, what could I do? I figured if the guy had the need or just plain chutzpah to knock on a strangers door after 10pm at night, he clearly needed $10 more than me. So I gave it to him. He thanked me effusively, blessed me several times and promised faithfully to pay me back. Yes, you may call me a sucker. But I have no expectations of getting the money back at all, and am perfectly prepared for him to spend it all on booze or drugs, so if I have no expectations of it really being a loan, am I truly being suckered in? Maybe it was just the payment for the entertainment of his story. Haha. Well, we'll see if it comes back again or not.

Observing other people

So, my cousin will say that he is going to bed. And then appears to just...go to bed. No peeing, no teeth cleaning, no face washing. Nothing. Says nighty-night and then off he goes. I mean, OK, so he's a guy, and he's recently separated from his wife, and he's on vacation, so maybe the no teeth cleaning/washing thing is just a rebellion against social hygiene norms. Maybe he is just taking advantage of the opportunity to be a slob. Or maybe he is actually doing it, but I am not noticing (kind of hard in my house, as it's very small, but hey, I guess it's not beyond the bounds of possibilities).

But how on earth can you go to bed without peeing?

It's just not possible! I have to pee right before I go to bed. And even if I do my pre-bed pee, and then get distracted into doing something else, like scooping kitty poop or turning the dishwasher on, most of the time, I have to go and pee again, even if it's going to be just a few drops. It's I suppose mostly in my mind, but I cannot get to sleep if I haven't emptied my bladder recently.

Is my cousin an aberration or am I? Was I just mercilessly trained by my mother to avoid peeing accidents and now it's so ingrained my brain just won't let me turn off without going through the rituals? Am I weird? I like to think that he's the weird one. He must have a bladder of steel, or something.

Disoriented

I have family from merrie olde Englande staying with me. I had to rush down to Miami to pick them up on Friday night, and then the entire weekend was a whirlwind of chauffeuring them around that fair city to show them the sights. Freakin' exhausting, I tell you. And what's exhausting on top of taking them around to places is trying to think up things that they might like to do, as they don't have a clue, apart from that they don't want to go to Orlando to go to any theme parks. But they do want to go to Walmart, Old Navy and White Castle. One of which I don't think we have around here. It's funny how all my English relatives want to visit Walmart - it's pretty much the one thing I can guarantee that they will want to do. Oh, and they want to go to the Keys and the Everglades. Both of which I think they'll have to do on their own, as they are a bit time consuming for me to fit around work, unless we take a weekend trip to the Keys. Which reminds me, I should look into hotels on Key West for Saturday night just in case.

Anyway, we finally got home on Sunday night, and I was able to check blogs and email after they went to bed. And was so surprised to see that life had only moved on 2 days since I last logged on. Time had stretched so long because we jammed so much in, that it felt like I had been away for a week.

Well, crap.

Thank you Alex for pointing out that I might not be able to get individual insurance at all, due to my infertility treatment. I was naively assuming that because it was over and done with, and I am not trying to conceive any more that it wouldn't be a preexisting condition. Just goes to show that you should never underestimate the evilness of insurance companies.

The good news is that going part-time at work such that you no longer qualify for health insurance is an event that can trigger COBRA continuance of coverage. Of course, that is crazy expensive, and only lasts for 18 months. But it is there if I need it. And a fellow Sunshine-stater (not naming names to protect the innocent, but you know who you are) managed to find a health plan that covered her after a 12 month exclusion period. So if I get the same plan, at least I know I can switch from COBRA after 12 months.

I will keep digging, of course. But thanks for letting me know! What would I do without my bloggers?

Oh, and for Kymberli, I am going to study acupuncture! So I'll be involved in infertility in one way or another for the rest of my life. It's the gift that never ends...

Dreading

As I've posted about before, I am going to be transitioning to part-time work in August so that I can go back to school. Hopefully it will be with my current employer, but they are lazy asses about telling anyone anything so I still don't have official confirmation that they will let me do this. I've had several vague assurances of "it should be OK" but no real proof. Anyway, I'm going to school come what may, so it's either going to be part-time here or at Starbucks or somewhere.

Which brings me to the subject of health insurance. I won't be working enough hours to qualify for health insurance any more, so I am going to have to get individual coverage. I think I have found a plan that I like, although of course need to do a bit more shopping around to see if it really is the best fit out there. But, being as it's individual coverage and I'm cheap so don't want to pay a fortune for all the bells and whistles, it's not going to give me as much as I get now from my work plan. So, from now until the middle of August is officially designated as health-care frenzy time. I will be trying to get in as many routine visits and well person checks as I possibly can before the current insurance runs out. Just to make sure that I'm in the clear on everything, you know. And then if I decide that I'm going to alternate years with some of these things, it won't be such a big deal.

I've already had my eyes checked. My yearly dermatologist check for skin cancer is tomorrow. At some point I'll do a home cholesterol check to make sure the number is not sky high and then make an appointment for a regular physical (if the cholesterol is sky high, I will be living on oatmeal and almonds for a month to try to get it down before getting it officially checked - I definitely don't want any pre-existing conditions going on!). I've got a dental appointment booked for some time in early July.

And then I need to book a pap smear. It's been about a year since my last one so I really should get it done. But I'm dreading it. Even though I'm all "evolved" and "at peace" now, the thought of sitting in that waiting room with a bunch of pregnant women is seriously scaring me. I've been having them done over the last few years at the RE's, which has been lovely. No interminable delays waiting for the doc because he/she is off delivering babies. No watching pregnant women come and go from the waiting room in a constant stream while I sit there feeling folorn. No cheery questions about what I'm doing for birth control. So going back to the regular OB/Gyn is not something I'm looking forward to. What if I can't handle it? What if it just turns me right back into that bitter place, and I get stuck and can't get out? I guess I could keep getting it done at the local RE's (he did offer, as he said he does that for some of his infertility patients who don't want to go back to the OB/Gyn), but then I'd have to pay out of pocket as my insurance won't touch anything that comes from anywhere with a name beginning with the initials IVF. And paying out of pocket kind of defeats the object, doesn't it?

Regrets, I've had a few

[No, this isn't a post about my new haircut. It's perfectly cute, but I just can't get an "after" photo that I am happy with yet, mostly due to my fat neck and chubby cheeks and bad skin. But I will get one at some point.]

One one of my recent posts, a person left a comment that included the following:

Sarah, your posts were quite an inspiration to me for such a long time - thank you for sharing, truly. ... I saw what you and other ladies were going through - IVF after IVF after IVF after IVF after IVF - seemingly until infinity, with what was clearly an egg problem. ...[has a child through donor embryo]... Thanks to the experiences I saw of couples losing their homes and life savings to do endless IVF's all for the chance at genetic offspring that they'd never have and were left with nothing - thanks to all of that, I avoided the same mistakes.What a blessing. I wish the same for you.

Now, I have removed a lot of the information from the comment, so perhaps you could say that I am taking the sentences I have left in out of context. But I don't think so. And I know that the comment was posted with the best intentions, and perhaps to give me hope, but it really made so many assumptions about my life and my experiences that I wanted to comment on it.

First, lets talk mistakes and regrets. Sure, I've made plenty of mistakes in my life. I've had a few regrets. I think particularly of that time about 10 years ago when I got incredibly drunk after inviting a few friends back to my place, and decided that it was high time I was loud and proud about my new-found (and thankfully short-lived) love for Celine Dion and to tell them that I wasn't ashamed that I had a CD of hers. I don't think I'll ever forget the look of horror and disgust on one of my friend's faces as Celine warbled out of the CD player. That is something I'll regret for a long time. But I will never regret doing any of the IVF's that I have done. Never. They were not a mistake.

The IVFs and IUIs that I have done were a precious chance at following a dream that I have held all of my life. Sure, they were expensive. Of course I wish that insurance had covered them. But each and every one was thought through carefully, down to the choice of doctor, the medication protocol, whether we'd covered all of our bases, whether I should really do it or stop there. Each and every one of them gave me hope, and an opportunity to have the child I so desperately wanted. Each of them taught me something about myself, about my strength and resilience, about how far I was willing to go to chase a dream, about love, about compassion for myself and others. Each of them was a valuable, valuable experience. I do not regret them at all.

And "clearly an egg problem?" It's OK to say that in hindsight. And sure, we suspected an egg problem right from the get-go. But there was no "clearly" about it until I did that CGH testing. I have still not hit 40. It is still not beyond the realm of possibilities for me to produce a normal egg, even with a clear egg problem. It is not, even with an egg problem, a ridiculous notion to shoot for the moon. Even if you know the chance is slim, if it is a chance that you are willing to take, why not? Why shouldn't a person who has the emotional, physical and financial resources do IVF repeatedly? Even to infinity? Although of course nobody would do them to infinity, because everyone has a point at which they will stop. But there's not an RE in the land that would say to someone in my situation that I'd NEVER have my own genetic child. They'd rightly say it was a very low chance, but nothing in this business is an absolute.

Let's also talk about couples losing their homes and life savings. Losing their homes? I haven't come across that, personally. Maybe someone out there has lost their home due to infertility treatment. If so, it's news to me. Would anyone really go that far? Maybe. I know people who have taken out second mortgages to pay for IVFs, and that's certainly a valid financing option. I would definitely have considered it if that was the only way to pay for IVF. Maybe such a move tipped the balance for someone into a precarious financial situation. But presumably only after another situation, like losing a job, intruded into their plans for paying the money back. But it ain't me, babe. The only debt I have is my mortgage. There's just the one, no second mortgage. And even today after the housing slump, I have more than 50% equity in my house. Life savings? Well, let's be real here. What are we saving for? The vast majority of people doing fertility treatment have a good 20 years, usually more, to make up for any shortfall in retirement savings. So let's take retirement off the table. I don't know about you guys out there, but I was saving so I could have a good and enjoyable life. So I could provide for my kids, so I could pay for their college education. But if there aren't going to be any kids, then we're talking a whole different ballgame. There isn't so much of a need to have a savings cushion in the first place. Besides, going back to me, not only have I not taken on any debt, I have not spent my life savings. I still have some left. Plenty, really. Enough to pay for tuition for 3 years of a master's degree program and still have some left. And this doesn't include my retirement accounts, which I have not touched. I have not been left with nothing. I don't usually talk too much here about my financial situation, because I know that I am very fortunate in that regard, and I don't feel that it would be appropriate to rub that in other people's faces who are struggling much harder than I am with money. But just because I don't say it doesn't mean that you should assume that I don't have it.

So, please, don't make assumptions about me or how I might have ruined my life doing IVF after IVF after IVF until infinity. I have not. I have been through highs, and I have been through lows that I didn't think were possible to get through. It is causing me to completely change my life. It has opened my heart. It has given me gifts that I am grateful for. My financial situation is my own, it is not yours. My tolerance level is my own too.

I think it's perfectly valid to say "I knew I didn't want to do too many cycles" or "I knew I wanted to save my resources for an egg donor cycle or adoption in case IVF didn't work, so I stopped there" or "I didn't want to go into debt so I knew I could only afford one cycle" or many more other reasons for stopping IVF with ones own eggs. There are plenty, and we each have our own break point. But I don't think it's fair to effectively say "I stopped because I didn't want to make the mistakes YOU made." Because you know what? I didn't. I didn't make ANY mistakes. I took chances, with my eyes wide open. And they may not have given me a baby, but they gave me plenty of other things. I am at peace with that.

After, number 1

Here's the "after" shot from the patio cleaning this weekend.  That's a cat tail at bottom left, by the way - she wouldn't pose nicely for you.  Of course, now the camera is put away she is sitting nicely in the middle of the patio, looking around regally.  Note also the lovely plastic flamingoes.  They were a joke present from my cousin for my Florida yard, but I actually like them.  Not enough to put them in the front of the house, you understand.  But they are fun.  And OK, so the patio isn't pristine white, but it's as good as I can get. And seeing as it was literally mostly black before, it's a huge improvement.  And the eagle eyed among you may spot the leaves at the bottom of the pool, which will be rectified sometime this week.  Maybe.

Stay tuned for another "after" as I'm getting my hair chopped today.  That one may even come with a "before" photo if you're really lucky though I'm not taking one right now as I just got out of bed.

Mulling

At times this weekend, it has felt like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. No more cycling! No more shots, no more hormone crazies, no more RE appointments (unless I do a donor embryo cycle, caveat, caveat, blah blah blah). No more spending crazy sums of money every single fucking month on something or other. No more prenatals. No more herbs. No more caring. It at times has made me positively giddy and made me want to laugh out loud. I mailed off some of the contents of my IVF meds box on Saturday, and although it's still a giant box of stuff, the act of giving away some of my leftovers felt very freeing.

And then of course the inevitable flip would happen, and I'd go back to feeling sad that my ovaries are so fucking broken that I couldn't produce a normal egg out of the 70+ that I tried with. I tried to call my dad to tell him about the lack of genetic grandchildren coming from me, but I never managed to connect with him. It's a call that's been weighing on my mind, as I know he would dearly love to have grandchildren and my brother is a lost cause. However, hopefully I can keep hope alive for him by telling him about maybe adopting, or maybe meeting a hot guy at acu school and miraculously getting knocked up the old fashioned way (*snort!* *guffaw*). Or prepare him for the possibility of nothing at all.

It's a strange state to be in. I trolled around an adoption board this weekend, and became all choked and teary when I watched a photo montage one of the moms put together about picking her daughter up from Guatemala. It seems like such a great way forward for me. And yet. And yet. Here I am going back to school, and the sensible people in my life tell me that there's no way I can care for a baby while at school and working, because my schedule will be so crazy. Of course, they were the same people telling me not to sign up for school until after I knew the outcome of this cycle because if it had succeeded there was no way I could care for a baby while at school. I figure if it is meant to be, I will find a way somehow. They are right, though, it would be much more difficult than if I was just working full time. And then the cost scares me rigid. Do I try to go with the state, knowing that healthy infants are few and far between? [But then again, maybe waiting a year or two for an infant would be a good thing, as it would get me closer to the end of school.] Or do I try to save up to pay for an agency? And how on earth do you save while working part time? Although there is still the option of renting out a room in my house to bring in extra cash so I guess that could go into the adoption fund. Do I go with donor embryo on the basis that it is cheaper than adoption, but then I am probably not going to opt for maternity coverage on my health insurance, so I'd have to look into whether that's something I can add in prior to a cycle just in case. And then what if I got knocked up with twins which I guess is more likely with young, healthy embryos? How would I handle a complicated pregnancy while going to school 40 miles away and knowing that I would no longer be paid for sick leave once I'm a part timer?

Anyway, there's plenty of time to mull over these options. I'm not going to take any action until the new year, I have decided. I am going to force myself to NOT sign up for anything for six months, so that I can let the dust settle. And there's all that working on the house to do. I spent the weekend pressure washing the patio/pool deck in my back yard (I would have done before and after photos but the "before" was so embarrassing that I decided not to). It was quite satisfying, actually, to blast away the black slimy grime that has collected over the years and to reveal pristine whiteness underneath. It felt somehow symbolic for blasting away the black slimy IF grime that has collected on my soul.

Not doing too bad, considering

Thank you all SO much for your comments and kind words.  This really is an amazing community, full of support and concern.

I am doing OK.  No, really, I am.  Fine, well if you want the truth, I have had a couple of days of feeling really sorry for myself.  I have drunk enough wine to be thoroughly ashamed of myself, taken some leftover valium that I found after rummaging in the medicine box (thank you, local clinic, for deliberately over prescribing valium!), eaten far too much bad food and had some really good sobbing sessions.  But this morning I am calm again.

It really helps that I reached a place of acceptance before this cycle.  Yes, it still hurts deeply that I will never "overcome" being barren.  I will always be infertile.  I will never have my own genetic offspring.  It's something I need to grieve.  But, if that's how it has to be, then so be it.  My life will go on, and I will find joy, much joy, somewhere, somehow.

This failure, even though it has the aspect of finality about it, hurts a lot less than some of my prior failures.  So I'm very grateful that I can see a way forward to having a wonderful life without all my plans having worked out.  I'm grateful that I know that there will be love in my life and that it's all going to work out OK in the end.  That has helped me immensely in the last few days.

In the immediate future, I have school plans to make so that's what I am going to concentrate on, including figuring out health insurance, working out my budget, going part time at work or finding a new job if they don't approve the hours I want.  All that.  There are a few jobs around the house that I want to get done before I have any homestudy or anything like that.  I want a few months of normality before I plunge back into the next step.  And what will the next step be?  I'm not sure.  I'm leaning towards adoption.  Childfree is still an option, as is donor embryo.  I think donor eggs are out for now, because it's too much money and effort.  Even the thought of an FET for a donor embryo gives me the heebie-jeebies because I'm so damn sick and tired of cycling, but there's a part of me that thinks I could stick my name on a donor embryo waiting list and by the time it comes up I will probably be OK about doing a cycle.  But adoption seems to be calling my name more and more, so I guess I will start doing some research about that.  At some point.

So thank you again, wonderful internets, for your support.  I'm hanging in there.

All the Embryos Stopped Growing

The end of the end.

The Fear

Right on cue, the fear is setting in. The fear that I will have no normal embryos and that will be that. I mean, I don't even know why I am stressing so much. I even had a nice dream last night about adopting, and being handed my child, and I woke up feeling like it was a lovely and perfect thing to do. And then my brain started churning, and by the time I was in the shower I was worked up that I'd let myself get optimistic over these embryos and that I'll probably have the rug pulled from under me.

I really am at peace with what happens. I am. I guess I am just invested in these embryos. I suppose that what I am at peace with is that, in 5 years time, I know I will have a good life. I will either be a mother somehow, or I won't, but whatever happens, life will turn out OK. It doesn't stop me hoping that this particular cycle works out. I'm sure it also won't stop me hoping that a particular adoption situation works out if I go down that route. You see the joy coming your way, and you want to grab onto it and get it here as quickly as possible.

So, there's a part of me that wishes I had just done a straight IVF this time, and had transferred my three good embyros. There's a part of me that got so excited about hearing the day 3 news that I started imagining at least one normal embryo, and a successful transfer, and pregnancy and....even having a real, live, healthy baby. And yet there's a big part of me that thinks that 70+ previous eggs (counting my IUI's) all being bad does not bode well for these ones. Especially as I did all those caffeine- and alcohol- related no-nos. I mean, sure, I was zen about them at the time, but now the fear is whispering in my ear that due to a cup of coffee I can't possibly have a decent egg this time. Which is crazy talk, I know. But since when has IVF not made anyone crazy?

Pleasantly Surprised by People

No IVF news today. Just hoping for good embryo growth. I should get a call tomorrow, though, so keep your fingers crossed. And thanks for all the woo-hoo's! :)

But, I wanted to post about how some people at work have pleasantly surprised me in the last few days. Specifically over the issue of gay marriage in California. I was in the lunchroom yesterday, and one woman picked the newspaper up and Tsk'ed loudly and said "ugh, look at all this on gay marriages". I was over at a different table (being antisocial, as I usually am) and my bigotry radar immediately started up. I tuned in, preparing to leap to the defense of anyone who just wants to marry the love of their life, and how it just does NOT destroy the sanctity of anyone else's marriage. Well, the other women at the table changed the subject. So the first woman tried again, with another loud Tsk, and again was ignored. Not bad, I thought, not bad, that nobody else allowed themselves to get sucked in. Not great that nobody said anything positive, but whatever. At least nobody said anything bad.

Today I went to the lunchroom a bit earlier than usual because I was starving. I try not to go early because the "noon crew" are usually loud and obnoxious. In fact, there are two women in particular who rub me the wrong way every time I am in there. They are particularly opinionated, and usually objectionable. So another woman on their table pipes up about gay marriage, again in reference to the newspaper. I braced myself, ready to butt in and give them my opinion. And both of the women that I particularly dislike loudly defended anyone being able to marry anyone they choose, and how the rest of us should just leave them to it and stop making such a big deal out of it. And then went on to say how appalling it is that our state refuses to let gay couples adopt, leaving children in foster care when there are loving families that want them.

I was floored. And VERY pleasantly surprised. It was the last thing I expected out of the mouths of these two women. Just goes to show that you can't judge people or pigeonhole them easily.

Good news!!!!

Oh yay!!!! Happy talk, keep talking, happy talk...

The RE just called. They are biopsying all 7 embryos, as all of them are over 5 cells today.

Of the 7, 3 of them "score" well. LV Clinic scores by assigning numerical values at each stage of the process (details here) - basically anything above 70 is good. An embryo that scores a 100 is an 8-cell grade 1 according to the lingo that other clinics use. My top 3 have scores of 100, 95 and 75. AND, and, and, they did the embryo marker expression test, and the 100 and 95 embryos are marker POSITIVE. Basically, with a positive result then that embryo has twice the chance of producing a positive pregnancy test (for a given age) and there is half the likelihood of miscarriage.

The RE said he was VERY hopeful that this time we will have 1 or 2 normal ones. I never found out my scores or marker results last time as we only swapped voicemails on day 3 and he didn't volunteer any information (although I think he would have volunteered if the results had been good). Now, of course, you can have abnormal embryos that go on to produce pregnancies but end up miscarrying later (or result in Down syndrome children), so again, it's not an exact science. But what good news for the day!

I have a big grin...

Day 3

I am slowly catching up on sleep. Slowly catching up on work. And slowly getting to the bottom of the source of the funky smell in my kitchen.

My suitcase turned up yesterday afternoon, so I was able to be reunited with all the important things in life, like my conditioner and razor.

I gingerly stepped on the scale this morning, and am up 5 pounds. Hopefully 2 of those will drop away quickly as I'm hoping that'll be water weight. Which should leave me just 3 pounds to work off to get back to pre-IVF weight (plus the other, ooh, 43 or so from there). I am determined to get back to healthy eating - I actually missed it while I was away, although that could also be due to frustration at not having (m)any healthy vegetarian options available in the restaurants that were close to the hotel. And I'm pretty proud of myself for facing up to the weight issue this morning, rather than delaying weighing myself for another week as I was tempted to do.

Today is embryo day 3, and somehow I managed to leave my cellphone sitting at home. Which is great in that it'll be nicely charged when I unplug it, but not so great in that I was hoping for a call from the RE about how the embryos are doing. I have emailed and asked if he can call my work number instead, but am not entirely hopeful. Meh.

Cross-country travel

I am home, my baggage isn't.

I think that's pretty much how it goes these days, right? Either you get horribly delayed, or your baggage does.

And woe betide you if you use two different airlines to make a trip, even if those nice internet booking sites suggest it as a great idea. Because you'll be bounced between the two airlines with each claiming that the other has the responsibility for lost suitcases.

Ah well. No biggie. No harm done, as it's all only stuff after all. At least nobody lost my embryos!

Fertilization report

Do you find yourself going through all the possible outcomes in an IVF cycle and telling yourself what the best result would be, what would be a good result, and what would be a respectable result.  And of course, the result below which you will not be happy.  Followed closely by shaking your head and saying to yourself "I can't hope for anything, I will be happy with whatever I get."

So, for example, on being told that you have X follicles, you might go into egg retrieval secretly hoping for X-2 eggs, although telling yourself that X-4 would still be just great, but anything above X-6 is fine, fine, fine.  And knowing that if it's X-10 or lower, you'll be pissed. And then feeling bad that some people don't have anywhere near that number of follicles, so anything above 1 should be considered to be a blessing.

I dunno, maybe it's just me.  But, after hearing the news that I had 9 eggs yesterday, I admit that I started thinking that the best that I could possibly hope for in my wildest dreams would be 7 embryos.  But 5 would be more normal for me.  And I've had 3 out of 9 before, so anything equal to or above 3 would be OK.   I try not to do this to myself.  And you would think that this cycle, when I'm actually at peace with whatever the outcome is, that I would definitely NOT do it.  But I still do/did.  I still run through all the possible scenarios, mentally torturing myself.

The RE just called.  I got my wildest dream for this many eggs, people!  7 out of 9 were mature, and all 7 fertilized normally!!  I have 7 embryos!  Hallelujah!  This is now equal to my previous best cycle, where I got 7 embryos out of 14 eggs retrieved (out of 20 follicles).  So to get 7 embryos out of 9 eggs retrieved (out of 16 follicles) is grrrreat news, as Tony the Tiger would say.  Yay!!

I am not a number, I am a free man

I am back from retrieval.  Finally.  The finally is only because the hotel shuttle bus wouldn't come early for me as they had an airport run to do, so I had to hang around for an extra hour.  But never fear, I filled my time (and face) having pizza, coffee and chocolate pudding from the hospital cafe.  Ahh, the breakfast of kings.

They retrieved 9 eggs, which is a tad disappointing, as I had more follicles than last time, yet fewer eggs.  Oh well, what really matters is if there's a normal one out of the bunch.  And 9 is still a respectable number, after all.  Besides, I'm not going to let the number get me down.  Que sera sera.

So that makes 14, 5, 9, 7, 14, 10 and 9 eggs retrieved for a grand total of 68.  Hey, that's the year I was born.  Maybe that's my lucky number?  But, that's enough for anyone, I think.  My ovaries have been prodded enough!  No more stims for me.  It is quite a relief, actually, to think that I'm finally done on that score.

I am a bit crampy but otherwise just dandy.  I'm going to try to snooze now, except that housekeeping has not yet come to clean my hotel room, so no doubt they'll interrupt just as I doze off.

IVF Musings

I triggered last night, and for the first time I am wondering if I did it right.  My first trigger cycle I think I did an HPT the next morning, just to check.  Then in IVF cycles both local clinic and NY clinic have you in for a blood draw the next morning, to check both estrogen and HCG.  So there was never any need to worry as there was always some sort of confirmation that I did the shot right.  And I've always had a fairly obvious reaction the next morning - nips at full attention, slight nausea, and just that weird slightly dizzy feeling.  Last cycle, I don't remember anything so I guess I didn't give it a second thought, but this time there is something...I don't know...wrong.  No nip reaction, no nausea, no nothing.  I mixed the meds carefully, like I always do.  I injected it carefully at precisely the right time.  No problem.  Except I keep grabbing the empty vial out of the trash just to check that a) it really was HCG, and b) that it is empty.  

I was going to post about how zen and at peace I am.  And I really am, fundamentally, happy and at peace.  It's a deep, deep contentment.  I am amazed that it is still here, so am hopeful that it is a permanent shift.  Thank you for your comments on my post mentioning child abuse, by the way.  They did really help me.  I kept looking for the meaning, but why should I?  I have moved past finding meaning in why I had to go through infertility.  It was just something that happened to me.  No rhyme or reason that I can see.  Just, on the face of it, random chance.  We just have to work with the cards that we are dealt.  So why should I look for a reason for child abuse?  I shouldn't, and I don't have to.  It is something bad that happens to people, that causes suffering.  I shouldn't look for some deeper meaning than that, but should just hope that at least some of the victims can find peace.

But anyway, I also need to learn that being at peace with what is happening in my life doesn't mean that I'm not going to worry about whether I did the trigger shot correctly!  It doesn't remove everything - after all, I still have to function in society, and if that means checking that I turned the gas stove off, then that's an appropriate thing to check.  You can't drift through life blithely assuming that you don't have to look when crossing the road, because you'll only die when you're meant to!  There is a need for basic common sense, after all.

I also wanted to post about the things I have done differently this IVF cycle.  Given that I decided that it will either work or it won't, and I don't have any control over that, AND that if the doctors say my issues are due to chromosomal damage/aging, I decided that having a cup of coffee in the last week is not really going to change anything (and thanks to Margie for that realization too).  So, so far I have kept drinking alcohol - pretty steadily during lupron/estrogen priming, and since starting stims I have had 1 beer, 1.5 glasses of wine, and 1.5 rum & cokes.  I haven't gone crazy, but I haven't stopped completely - after all, when you walk into a restaurant for dinner and they are having a rum promotion and offering as many free rum & cokes as you'd like to drink, it's rather churlish to refuse, no?  I have also been drinking coffee.  In fact, this week I have had two cups a day of the caffeinated stuff, and on some days I have had a decaf coffee as well.  Well, you can't make a good cup of tea without the proper equipment, and an English girl needs good tea or no tea at all!  Besides, there's a coffee shop opposite LV clinic that serves Illy coffee, and that's my favoritest coffee evah, so I couldn't resist.  I have also had diet cokes, which is something I don't normally drink any more.  But, you know, it is hot in Vegas and a nice, ice cold coke sometimes does the trick better than anything else.  Oh, I sat in a hot tub briefly the other day (what?  I was cold when I got out of the pool, yes, even in Vegas).  There's been chocolate.  A packet of doritos.  Chewing gum.  Chemicals galore.  I had a pedicure yesterday, which was lovely.  I have kept up with my Chinese herbs instead of dropping them during stims, as they aren't supposed to interact, and I figure I will need building back up again after ER.  I have been quite sporadic with the prenatals.  And probably a few other things that I am forgetting to mention.  And so far, I've had a good response to the meds, so none of that has made a difference, except made me feel more relaxed about shit.  And, I'm not going to beat myself up for drinking coffee if this cycle doesn't work, because I avoided it every other cycle, and those didn't work either.

Oh, hey, just a brief mention of another first for me - I shot up last Friday on the plane.  While in the air.  After going through some turbulence (but thankfully not while going through some turbulence!).  I am the injection queen!  I have no fear! OK, so I only did the follistim because it's super easy with the pen, and waited until I landed before doing my other shots, but hey.  So now I've shot up in the back of a moving car, and in a moving plane.  And plenty of public bathrooms.  It's probably a good thing that I'm stopping treatment now, because no doubt I'd have to shoot up on a rollercoaster next, just to show that I could.

No, just fat

Trigger tonight, ER on Saturday.  It's all good.

Today he counted 16 follicles, however I think he said 11 were of a good size.  Not coincidentally, that's the same number of follicles he counted in the first scan.  Which just goes to show that there's no point getting excited about additional follicles that pop up as the cycle goes on because they can't catch up fast enough.  But hey, last cycle we retrieved 10 eggs, so 11 will definitely be a better result.  And if maybe he can suck out 12 or 13, so much the better.  Although, frankly at this point, ANY eggs retrieved is a good result so I won't mind whatever the number is.  It really all does come down to the chromosomes, and 1 normal egg out of 1 is really the same result as 1 normal egg out of 20.

I was talking to a woman in the waiting room who had given me the evil eye on Monday.  I couldn't quite work out then if she was reacting to the lack of a wedding ring on my finger or my poofy belly, as they were both in kind of the same area that she was staring at.  Turns out it was the belly, as she said today that she thought I was pregnant.  So not for the first time in this IF journey I was forced to say "no, just fat".  I did add "and bloated from the meds" to which she agreed that she, too, was bloated from the meds.  Uh-huh.  So you're sitting in an IVF clinic, bloated, and a woman comes in on her own for an appointment and you think the poofy belly is not stims bloat but rather pregnancy?  I know, I know, logic doesn't really get a look-in when we're in the midst of infertility angst, but really.

Anyway, I think we're both doing retrieval on Saturday and she was very nice so we wished each other lots of luck and had quite a nice conversation.  After she knew I wasn't pregnant, that is.

Numbers, numbers

As usual in an IVF cycle, I have been dwelling on numbers.  Do you know, if I count the FET and the cycle that got cancelled on CD2 for a cyst, I have started 10 IVF cycles?  And I started 10 IUI cycles too.  Strange symmetry there.

I completed 8 IUI cycles, as two got cancelled due to early ovulation.  One IVF cycle didn't make it out of the starting gate due to the monster cyst (although of course I'd already done a cycle of suppression and estrogen priming at that point), and one got converted at trigger to an IUI because of a poor response, so that makes 8 IVF cycles completed if I count the present one.  More symmetry.  

This egg retrieval will be number 7, and I have done 6 transfers.  I wonder if I will get to do a 7th transfer?  Maybe 7 will be my lucky number.

The news this morning is that the RE counted 15 follicles.  15!  They range in size from 12mm to 19mm.  Of course, the 12mm guys are very unlikely to produce mature eggs, but if he can retrieve all 15 that'll be my best response yet, as my previous best was 14 eggs.  I am going to continue on stims for another day, and go back for a look-see tomorrow, but it looks very likely that I will trigger tomorrow for retrieval on Saturday.

I had actually run out of ganirelix and luveris, but the clinic very kindly gave me some donations of those this morning, so now I am good for another day.  I have to say that I am liking LV clinic more and more.  I appreciate that they are very laid back and that there are fewer blood draws and ultrasounds than other clinics.  I appreciate that they appreciate the costs involved in all this stuff, and do their best to keep the costs down.  I appreciate that they do some outside the box thinking and experimenting, even if it doesn't always turn out perfectly.  At least they try.

On finding peace

No wanding today, so no IVF news.  I am hanging around the hotel, and am supposed to be working, but haven't started yet.  Maybe I will get inspiration shortly, or maybe I will go for a swim in the pool.  I am bone tired, though, from the stims and from traveling mixed in with the time change, so I really wish I hadn't committed to do so much work.  I'd be OK if a few things with deadlines hadn't cropped up at the last minute, because nothing I had planned to bring with me needs to be finished until I get back and could be worked on piecemeal, but a couple of the last minute items have a deadline of tomorrow.  Ugh.  Must get brain in gear somehow.

But I have been mulling over finding peace in life.  It is all very well for me to feel (and I truly do) that everything that has happened to me has happened for a reason.  That my struggles and suffering have brought me to where I am today.  I totally believe now that suffering can be very good for the soul, and can bring so much growth.  And I am very much at peace with my path.  I am blessed, in fact.  I still feel that my heart sometimes beats so wildly in my chest with love for everybody in the room that it fills me with amazement that I even see people differently now.  We are all just souls inhabiting bodies, and all have our path to walk on, however winding that path is towards peace.  I realized yesterday that I am even at peace with moustaches.  Oh yes, I have harbored a hatred towards them and the men that think they look just fine with a moustache.  But now?  Hey, if they think they look fine, then how about that?  Isn't that just dandy and fun?  Even moustaches have their place in the world.

Except.  Except I am stuck thinking about child abuse.  I am lucky that that never happened to me.  But how can I justify my new-found firm belief that everything happens for a reason when there is child abuse in the world?  I can see no good that can come out of that, no good at all.  And I can't see being able to get past it if it had happened to me.  Or that anybody could or should get past it and find peace with it.  I suppose I should just think that previously I couldn't see infertility, or cancer, or the death of a loved one as being things that one could ever find peace with, and now I can.  So maybe it will come eventually if I mull hard enough.  Maybe.  But the destruction of trust, the mental, emotional and physical pain and torture inflicted upon an innocent child?  I doubt that I will find the good in that any time soon.  I watched some animal cops shows on TV yesterday, and I've got to say that animal abuse is pretty darn awful too. 

Las Vegas: not exactly set up for pedestrians

I am here in Las Vegas.  It's IVF a-go-go.

I've got to say my weekend was fantastic.  I am so so in awe of how much things have changed for me all of a sudden.  I just had so much fun playing with the babies and NO bitter jealousy at all.  Wow.  In fact, as I was sitting at the airport waiting for my (delayed) plane on to LV, I started weeping tears of joy and gratitude as I was listening to groovy songs on the old ipod and thinking back over the last 5 days.  So if you were in a certain airport on Sunday night, and saw some girl with a goofy grin on her face, purple earphones and a purple handbag (oh yes I did buy purple earphones), and tears rolling down her cheeks, that was me.  I promise they were happy tears.  Because I am, finally, fundamentally happy with my lot.

And thank you all so much for the kind comments.  I used to believe that it wasn't possible to reach peace with infertility.  But it is, trust me.  If you are struggling right now, oh I know how it is.  I was there for the longest time.  And part of me will stay there with you.  But there can be a way through and a way out.  I am so lucky to have found it.  SO lucky, I know.

I'm staying at the hotel down the street from the new swank LV clinic location.  Last time I was a block away, and yet had rented a car that cost me a fortune.  As I walked to the clinic every day and hardly went anywhere else due to stims bloat and tiredness, it seemed like a massive waste of money to have a car.  So I figured I'd see how it went this time without one.  Except that it's 105 degrees and the clinic is 1.1 miles from the hotel this time so it's a tad bit harder to get by.  

Actually the walk wasn't too bad.  Have floppy sunhat, will travel, and all that.  It helps that I live somewhere pretty darn hot too, so I'm used to it. The snag was getting lunch afterwards.  I'd noticed a big group of restaurants on the other side of the street, a little way back from the hotel.  In the other direction from the clinic.  So I walked 1.1 miles to get wanded, crossed the street at the nice pedestrian friendly traffic light up there, and walked 1.2(ish) miles back for lunch.  And then couldn't cross the effing street to get back to the hotel.  The closest lights had big "no pedestrian" signs everywhere, to prevent people crossing the street there.  Then there was some big freeway junction that I didn't fancy walking over either.  The next set of lights back in the direction of the clinic were at least a quarter of a mile away. At least.  If not a half a mile.  And with four lanes in each direction of speeding traffic coming at me, and no median/island in the middle.  Except for one teeny bit of curb at a point a little way off.  I dithered for a long time about jaywalking when I got level with the median.  No break in the traffic was forthcoming, so I gave up and walked off towards the traffic lights again.  Which seemed to be receding further and further into the distance.  And then there was a huge gap in traffic.  But no median.  So I thought "bugger this" and walked back to where the median was, figuring if I got arrested I'd give the cops a piece of my mind about how the setup practically forces pedestrians to take their lives in their hands.  No gap in traffic so I stood there like an idiot for an age.  I dithered again, and almost set off again towards the lights when a good jaywalking opportunity finally opened up so I darted across.

Ridiculous, I tell you.  They actually have nice sidewalks which have a little curvy, winding path with plants on either side, very good for walking along.  Apart from the vacant lots where you have to walk over gravel.  But there is no way to get from the sidewalks to the shops or offices, so you have to walk over the flower beds to get there, or go around to the parking lot entrance.  And no way to cross the damn road for almost a fucking mile in either direction.  It's like the city was built by people with no concept of why anyone would want to be on the nice pretty sidewalks.  And the crazy thing?  I was by no means the only pedestrian, as you might have imagined, despite it being so hot.  I tell ya, I would be writing angry letters to the local paper if I lived here.  Not that anyone would care.  But use your brains, city planners, use your effing brains.  It's a bus route too, so I thought of taking the bus when I go back, but then I'd have the street crossing issue again.  I guess I might be ordering in for dinner. 

OK, on to the clinic.  The new location is much MUCH swanker and nicer than the old one.  Except they kept some of the old pink stuff from the vagina palace and I guess felt the need to match the decor to the pink exam tables.  But fear not, they didn't go back into the 80's again, but went with peach, brown and cream decor.  Still not exactly my cup of tea, but much better than the floor to ceiling pink they had previously.

The RE pronounced that I have 11 follicles, ranging in size from 11mm to 16mm.  He said he didn't think the 11's (or even the 12's) would catch up but we'll see what's going on on Wednesday and decide whether to trigger then or if we'll push it until Thursday.  If there's only one or two out in front, I think I will push to go an extra day in the hopes that the rest will catch up.  But we'll see.  Dr. F. doesn't know about my super fast follicle growth that can happen, so I have some hope for the smaller guys.

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Just want to say that I am not an internet genius, so if you post a comment asking a question, but don't include an email address or have a blog where I can post you a comment in return, it's hard for me to answer because I can't track you down.  I guess I could answer in posts, but my blog is disjointed enough as it is!  I also don't particularly want to publish my email address for the world to see because after all some people think that SMC's are the spawn of the devil for wanting to reproduce without a husband, so you don't know which crackpots will want to send me nice messages.

But OK, I'll try answering some questions.  1.  I think endometrial coculture can be a good option, but frankly if the eggs are chromosomally bad, will it help?  I don't think so.  Coculture gave me pretty embryos, but no pregnancy.  I don't think it can change fundamentally bad eggs.  2.  I live on the east coast of FL, not the west coast, so don't know about RE's over there.   3.  I already have a modeling contract, thanks, so don't need an agent right now, although I think I could squeeze in a multimillion dollar cosmetic campaign if you really want me. *

*OK, so one of those answers is to a hypothetical question.  I bet you can't guess which one.

Weekend with triplets

*Warning - cute baby photo below*

I had planned a weekend with my internet buddy Margie a while ago, while I am on my way to Vegas for this IVF cycle. She wanted me to visit last time I was in Vegas, but I didn't. Partly because I just didn't get my act together, partly because of the cost, but also, I'll admit, because I wasn't quite ready to face staying in a house with babies. I would apologize here to Margie, but I know she more than understands because she's a fellow infertile. Or should I say, former infertile.

But anyway, I couldn't really stay away much longer and besides, I was slowly beginning to come to terms with other people's babies, so I said that this time I would go. I also had an ulterior motive, which is that I figured maybe my ovaries would get the message that other people have babies so maybe we should too. You know, that whole primal instinct of "someone in the tribe thinks it's safe to reproduce so we can too".

I was worried though, I admit. I wasn't sure how well I'd do, whether it would be too painful, whether I'd have to put on a brave face and whether it would eat me up inside with bitterness that other people get to have babies and I didn't/don't. But that was before Wednesday. After Wednesday, I thought I would be able to handle it, although still had a small worry that I would slip backwards into the old ways.

Now, well, what a difference. I am completely at peace with this whole thing. It is still somewhat amazing to me (OK, completely and totally mind-blowingly amazing) that I am not jealous, I am not bitter and I am not having a problem with anything. I am just enjoying these wonderful, amazingly cute (and perfectly behaved) children. They are adorable, and I promise I am not biased when I say that. What a joy and a fantastic experience to be able to get down on the floor and play. And how amazing to go out with the girls in a triplet stroller and to see everyone's reactions. I'm sure the reactions would get annoying were I on the receiving end of them constantly, but for today it is interesting.  Margie is a wonderful mother, and her parents are amazing too - coming to the house most days to help out.  What a great, great family.

OMG people, it feels like I'm a normal person again.  

And I hope she won't mind me posting her story, because it is one that kept me going through some of the dark days, and gave me hope.  Margie conceived on her second IVF, at 42.5, with her own eggs.  On her last cycle with her own eggs, in fact, as she'd already started planning a DE trip overseas.  She got 5 embryos and transferred all five, because of course the chance of success was so low.  Miraculously, two stuck.  And one split into identical twins.  And then of course she was almost expected to miscarry because of her age, but she didn't.  Although she had some health complications at the end, she made it to 30 weeks and a few days, and had three healthy girls.  One had to have a heart operation shortly after birth, but so far everything looks good.  

And my heart cracked open

Calliope asked me to blog about some work I've been doing with myself, trying to accept what is. But I haven't felt ready. I am very much a work in progress, and haven't even got all the way through the book I'm reading. What can I possibly say that would be meaningful?

And then last night, it happened. My heart cracked open. I literally felt like it had been encased in a giant eggshell that cracked and fell away.

I had an acupuncture appointment last night, which was moved from my usual Thursday spot because he's going to be away for a day. So he was a busy boy and was running late, and I ended up sitting in the waiting room for a half an hour. I was the only one waiting, as I always get the last appointment of the day. So I sat and read a paper, and huffed, and fidgeted for a bit. And then finally calmed down and closed my eyes, and my mom came to mind so I started talking to her. By "talking" I mean I was imagining her and I walking together and talking. I've only been able to do this with any reliability since I did some heavy visualization work when I was trying to clear some blocked karma that the lady who did my akashic record reading talked about. And lest you are now completely turned off by all the new agey stuff, well, as Dumbledore says to Harry in Book 7, "of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"

So, anyway, mom and me, walking. It came to me that I was glad for her that she was dead, because she has been able to learn what her soul's journey is all about, has been able to experience all the knowledge of the world and is operating on this whole other plane. And various other new age mumbo jumbo stuff - yes, I believe in past lives and that we'll remember them after we die. And yes, I believe we have a soul that continues after we die. You, no doubt, believe differently, but to each his own, eh? Humor me here. So once I was able to tell her I was happy for her that she was dead, and hug her and give her just so much love, I started thinking what a great adventure death is and that it was really something to look forward to when the time comes. And then I was able to think that if I was happy for her that she was dead, I should be happy for me too that she died when she did. At the perfect time, both for her and me. What craziness that is - she died at the perfect time, because she died when she was supposed to. What a shift in my thinking.

The time came to get on the table and have the needles stuck in me, and as I was lying there relaxing, I was thinking more about death, and what an exciting journey it must be, and how it'll happen at the perfect time. And then that morphed into, why be afraid of death if I believe that my soul will continue afterwards (after all, if death really is the end and I dissolve into nothingness, I won't know about it, so why worry in advance?). And suddenly, for the first time in many years, I was excited to see what the rest of my life's journey brings, whatever happens. We have this honor and privilege of being alive on this beautiful earth. We have bodies that carry us around and are just amazing things. We have so much to discover and learn before we die. Whatever life brings to me, it should be an adventure of discovery, not a drudge. Not a thing to be worried about or be sad about. So I thought about going back to school, having a new job, moving, having a relationship (how exciting will that be - a new relationship!). And yes, of course, I thought about having kids or not having kids. And I was OK with it. With whatever happens. Suddenly OK. If my life's adventure is not to have kids, so be it. If I adopt, and get to meet this amazing child who I can be privileged to raise, wow, what an honor, what an exciting thing. If this final IVF works, what unbelievable luck. Suddenly, everything was equally wonderful. There was no stress over genetics, or the lack of them. Just excitement at what's coming next, and the fact that I have no clue about how my life will go. I finally felt that genetics weren't important to whether I could be a mother or not. Finally. After all this time.

I felt truly open to anything. After all this time. After the therapy and wacky treatments, after telling myself that I was "open" when I was really not. After resenting fertiles and my own infertility. After hating my life so much and for so long. After trying to do "mind/body" work and getting nowhere but annoyed. After trying hard to open myself up, and grieving how crap my eggs are, after the tears and the frustration, after roadblock after roadblock, the shell just cracked and fell away without effort. Without warning. After I have been a lupron grouch for days, and been irritated at people at work. After being self-centered, and wrapped up in my own shit, and after probably not being a very great friend to anyone else. Although I have been working hard setting up the next phase of my life, so that is finally moving and probably contributed in a big way to helping me get unstuck. But really, what took me so damn long?

So I got home, and I went on to Byron Katie's website, The Work. It is pretty deep stuff, and yet so accessible. She has little videos you can watch which just show you in five minutes what she's all about. It's what I've been reading and watching and doing and mulling for a while. It has led me to ask the question: what would my life be if I didn't believe the thought "I shouldn't be infertile", or "I should have got pregnant", or "I should have had kids when *I* wanted them." It really has helped me to accept infertility as just "what is" rather than something to be fought against and railed against. It has helped me see that "what is" is "what is supposed to be". That it is pointless to suffer based on my own thoughts about what should or shouldn't be. That God/reality/the Universe is running the show, and just because I think something should or shouldn't happen doesn't do a damn thing to change it, it just stresses me out. If I accept that these things (any things) are *supposed* to happen, and just deal with them as they come along, life can be so much easier.

And then bedtime rolled around. And I lay there thinking and wondering and feeling the newness of my freshly revealed heart. And it hit me. I would not be here today, would not have had this realization, would not be taking this journey, if it wasn't for infertility. If I *had* had kids when I wanted them, if I hadn't gone through the vale of tears and the heartbreak, I would not have opened my heart. I would have remained as I was, stuck in my old worldview that I somehow deserved things or that if I worked hard enough I could get things, or that my life was supposed to go how *I* planned it. Infertility, therefore, gave me a gift. Infertility *is* a gift. A hard gift, to be sure, full of more pain than I could have imagined, and one that I would never have accepted willingly, but it is a gift that has led me on a journey that I never expected (and never wanted). A gift that contained the key to a life that will be better than I ever could have imagined before. OK, so the key was buried inside a locked box that was hidden deep, deep within my heart and it took a lot of pain and digging to find it, but the key was there nonetheless. What is that saying - if it is easy, it's not worth having? And once you accept that something is a gift, you have to accept that you are honored, privileged and grateful to have received it.

And *that* is something that I never thought I would say. As hard as it has been, I am grateful to have been given the privilege of being infertile.

Why is it...

...that my life seems to explode into craziness the minute I start stims? So much for remaining calm and zen and doing that famous "just relax" crap. Now, OK, part of the craziness is I'm sure due to having to be out of town for my cycle, and the extra preparation and planning that that involves. But there always just seems to be random craziness on top.

Case in point - work. They fired two people on Monday, and another person quit. Yesterday I was asked if I could take on additional responsibilities, so I felt the need to tell the person that wanted to give me more stuff that I wanted to go part time. Which forced me to immediately go and reveal my plans to the big boss. Without my usual preparation of what I should say, or how I should argue things, and not knowing if it was even possible. And then the big boss told me he already knew all about my plans. I have a suspect in mind of who must have told him, which is annoying but I should never have told that person in the first place as I knew she could not be relied on for secrecy. However, she's supposed to be a friend, and would definitely have been offended if she hadn't known in advance. It's complicated. But really, the big boss could have had the class to put on an act that it was a surprise rather than just leer at me that "there are no secrets here". Ugh. The man's an ass. Anyway, at least I think the person who quit helped me out, because he was amenable to me working 3 days a week, though has to clear it with the bigger bosses. And we have to figure out the whole benefits/office thing. As I would be working less than 30 hours a week, apparently I no longer qualify for an office, health insurance or an administrative assistant. Not that the office matters, as so many people have left that there are plenty of empty ones so the big boss said I can just hang out where I am until the place fills up again, but I will need to clear my personal crap out of it so that it can be a guest office on days I am not in. And not that the admin assistant matters either, because I share and never get any of their time anyway. But health insurance is a wrinkle, even though I knew it was probably on the cards. Hopefully they will let me stay in the group plan but let me pay the group rate - they must have other part timers working less than 30 hours. Anyway, I will shop around for an individual plan too. Haha, and you know that because getting pregnant would really be a problem right about now due to shopping for health insurance, that there's a part of me thinking that this is the one that will finally work. Of course, being as I'm doing CGH again I'm not actually doing the transfer this time, so I can get the insurance in place before doing that IF there's a normal embryo. Which is a really fucking big 'if' as we all know.

Oh, and I had an appointment at the community college yesterday, and the advisor told me I need to take 5 classes, and do the math placement test in addition to the English placement tests. Even though I am not doing any math, but apparently to get the general education credits I need it. Or something. I looked at a sample test and didn't have a freakin' clue. So I will be studying math while in Vegas so I can take the placement test when I get back. Joy joy joy.

So all in all it was a very stressful day. And of course one of my work buddies wanted to go out last night to discuss how much of a miracle it was that I didn't get fired, as he was convinced that that was on the cards for me, due to my previous slacking. So I did, and I had a beer even though I started stims and shouldn't have. But really, I have avoided alcohol like a good girl on every previous cycle and none of them have worked, so I have lost the will to be the perfect IVF patient. I just had one, and it was gooood. And needed, after the day I had.

Score!

I found an eco friendly school bag. At 40% off!

I was reading Treehugger as I do most days, and they had some blurb about these backpacks that are made of recycled materials. So I clicky-clickied and read about them. I quite liked one of the backpacks, although it's not switchable between a messenger and a backpack. But then I found it at 40% off, which made it irresistible. And it is free shipping to boot. It says: "This pack is so user and eco friendly that it won the green gear award from Outside magazine for 2007."

Score! Who needs a fancy messenger type dealie? Not me. Not when it would have cost $125 more for the privilege.

Surrounded by idiots

Exhibit 1: I joined this dieting website (linky on the bottom right, in the side bar) which is mostly fabulous. It has meal plans you can follow, although most people turn them off and just track calories on whatever they happen to be eating anyway. But occasionally someone will post about how they're having great difficulty following the plan because of reason "X". Last week (or was it the week before) someone posted about being allergic to milk and throwing it all back up again after following the meal plan. I assumed it was an aberration because after all, who would be idiotic enough to follow a meal plan containing something you know you're going to throw up, without substituting out that item for something you can eat? But it happened again today - someone posted how they are throwing up the milk, and how do you follow the plan? What are they - stoopid?

Exhibit 2: Where I work, we have to bill for our time spent on projects. Most of the time the bills are automatically generated, but sometimes we have to run one off separately. So the billing lady emails and says "get your time in for X project, filed on Y date, as I need to do a bill." Usually one is given a deadline for this, but we currently have an idiot billing lady. She emailed on Friday at 11am, without setting a deadline. As I'm a slacker, I didn't get my time into the computer until this morning at 10am, then I emailed her to say it was in. It turns out she generated the bill first thing this morning, before I got in. Without actually anybody's time out of the 5 that worked on the project being in the computer. I mean, wouldn't you think if you know the project was completed on Y date, that you'd check to see if somebody, anybody, had recorded their time for Y date? And if there wasn't any time for that day, or heck, even for the preceding week, you'd wonder what was up? Or, maybe email back the people that hadn't responded to you, and tell them to get their act in gear? Stoopid. So now she has to redo the bill. And, lest you think this is the first time it has happened, it is a regular occurence - at least now we've taught her to actually send an email, but she hasn't obviously realized why one would want to send an email.

Flow, going with

Well, the acu school confirmed that they definitely won't let me in in September.  But the good news is that they will let me in in January if I complete the general education classes that are required.  I am just going to go with the flow instead of fighting it.  I figure a semester at community college might be fun, and it will at least get me back into studying in a fairly easy way.  And thanks for the ideas on getting my A-levels to count as some of the general education credits.  But seeing as I have all science A-levels, I don't think they'll necessarily help!  I have more than enough science credits, but don't have art appreciation so am therefore screwed.  Or something along those lines.

They gave me the schedule for the January intake, and again it's good and bad news.  The good news is that it's arranged so that I can probably do 20 hours at work and still have enough time left over to do class work.  With 20 hours, I might be able to scrape by without loans.  The bad news is that a lot of the classes are at night, and the classes end right at the time the last train leaves the nearby station for the night so I have no way of making the train.  And on Saturdays the trains only run every 2 hours, so I would have to arrive at 7am for a 9am start.  So unless they change the train schedule I will have to drive every day.  Which is a tad worrying for three reasons: first, my car is getting old, and I was hoping not to have to subject it to a lot of mileage, in the hopes that it would last until I am earning better money again; second, the drivers around here are crazy and I will be in fear for my life every day on I-95; and third, it'll take me two gallons of fuel a day to make the trip so we're talking a lot more cash than the trainfare would have been.

However, I have a plan at least.  I know which direction things are heading in, and it's all ticking along.  I have an appointment with the CC on Tuesday to discuss things with them, and take the English placement tests and other ridiculousness.

S'all good.  Kinda, sorta.

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Wait,  you came here to find out about IVFs??  You don't care about my college plans?  Oh me, oh my!

Well, I have still not booked my hotel for my Vegas trip.  Which is a bit stupid, really, seeing as I am leaving next weekend.  Nor have I booked a car.  Or in fact, told my boss that I'm going to be out of town for a week.  I'm going to have to spring it on him on Monday morning and hope for the best.  Hoo boy, he's going to be mad.  Unless I can convince him that I told him 3 weeks ago, and he's forgotten about it.  As he is quite forgetful on that score, that might not be too hard to do.

I am trudging along, taking ganirelix and estrogen.  I will start stims on Monday.  Not that I've got the go-ahead to start stims but I'm working on the assumption that as they didn't tell me NOT to start following the baseline u/s from a week ago, that I'll just plow ahead.  I can't say this IVF is very exciting so far, but that's fine by me.

Sarah the....community college student?

So, there seems to be a snag with my application to go and learn how to stick needles in people. I don't have the requisite general education classes. See, in the good ole U.K. if you do a bachelor's degree in English Lit., that's all you do. If you do a degree in German, that's all you do. If, like me, you are a science nerd, your entire degree is composed of science classes.

The acu school website talks about all the requirements, including 19 credit hours in general education classes. I knew there were requirements. So I emailed them last December and said "hey, I'm a cool English chick and I have a degree which doesn't meet all your requirements, but will it be OK seeing as it's a proper degree and all. Pretty please?" Or words to that effect. And this nice guy wrote back and said "yes, if it's a proper degree, everything should be hunky dorey". Or words to that effect.

But it seems that that was not accurate. And now they are getting their panties in a wad, or knickers in a twist if I am being true to my English roots, about the fact that I...gasp...don't have any general education credits! And the courses I do have aren't listed in terms of credit hours (well, duh, we don't do things that way over there).

So now I might have to go off and spend time at the local community college doing English, and Social Studies and all those fun things. The woman I spoke to this morning decided that I need 13 credit hours. Fun, fun, fun. Just to stick needles in people. I wonder how many other people fail to get into acu school? Not that I've actually failed to get in yet, as they are going to discuss me again, but it looks likely.

Anyway, it's not the end of the world, it probably only means a semester delay in my starting acu school, as I'd probably want to go to community college full time just to get it over with. But. Ugh. If I'd been aware in December, I could have been doing a few online courses since then.

Mishmash

I have had blinding headaches for the last day and a half. Sigh. Tylenol is my friend, but it only takes the edge off for a few hours. I started the estrogen shots yesterday, and I was hoping that would help with the headaches, but no such luck yet.

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I want to be clear in case yesterday's post came off in any way as self-congratulatory and wishing ill on my cousins, I am very sad for them that their marriages ended. I don't wish them to have bad lives at all. But it is helpful to me to realize that everybody has crap going on. Just wanted to make that clear because I don't think it came through.

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Kate asked about school bags. No, I haven't picked one yet. I am quite taken with this one because it can switch between being a backpack and a messenger bag but don't think it is quite right. Partly because it is eye-poppingly expensive, and partly because they don't have any cute colors right now. Some new colors are supposed to be coming out in mid-summer, so I will see what they have then. And in the meantime, keep looking for something less expensive. They do have a cheaper version that is not eco-friendly, but I would rather buy something that is at least a tiny bit environmentally concious.

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The weight is dropping off me at the moment. Yay for PMS water retention! Or at least, yay for it when it ends. I am now down 11.5 pounds since the last ER so I have a real chance I think of actually being 10 down on the next ER day. I know the weight loss will stall again soon, as it always does, but I'm pretty happy at the moment.

Illusions, illusions

I was speaking with my dad on the telephone yesterday, and he started saying something about the gas price rises, and how we barely made it through last time. And I went "wait, what?" It turns out in the mid-70's when the previous gas price craziness was going on, he and my mom were really struggling financially and were constantly worried about losing the house. He said things were very dicey for about 18 months and they really struggled to get by for years afterwards, even after they stopped worrying about the bank repossessing the house. I had no idea. I mean, I remember my dad planting a vegetable garden, and making our bread, and home brewing his own beer, but I thought he did all that stuff because he enjoyed it. Just shows you how clueless kids can be, even once they've matured into adulthood and should know better. My dad never volunteers to take on extra chores or has expressed any interest in home brewing or bread baking in the 30-35 years since! And he was telling me how my mom would try to make 7 days of food money last for 8 days, so they could eke things out for a bit longer. See, I always thought she was just thrifty with clothes and toys and things, and that she was a bit of a health nut trying to make sure we had healthy food! Clueless, I tell ya.

Anyway, this all came up because we were discussing my cousins in England. I have American cousins and English cousins. And the English cousins have always done everything right, and seemed to lead these charmed lives. I will admit to feelings of jealousy and inadequacy! Luckily my American cousins are just as messed up as my brother and I, so that at least was reassuring. My English cousins always had tons of toys. All the latest stuff. I was so jealous as a kid. And then after my mom died I would be jealous that they were always cuddling their mom, who doted on them, doing everything for them - laundry, cleaning their rooms, you name it, my aunt was supermom. Even into their 20's, which I always thought was a bit sickening and wished they would just grow up already and do their own feckin' laundry. They both went off to college and just did everything right. So, of course, as time went on they both had perfect weddings, and one has produced the perfect child. The rest of us are all still lame and single. And barren. Wait, it's only me that's barren - I'm not sure anyone else has tried.

But in the last couple of months both of my cousins marriages have broken down, and they are both now going to get divorced. I mean, I never expected both perfect marriages to necessarily last forever, given the current divorce rates, but for both to fail at the same time is downright weird. And now both are stuck trying to either sell their houses or buy their spouse out, and both are of course struggling hugely with all this, it being the worst time to try to deal with all things real estate right now. And once again, the illusions that I should never have had about other people are falling away. I mean, nobody's lives are perfect. I know this. I know this instinctively about anybody that I've met since becoming an adult, but I guess there's just this warped thinking with family members that means I was still harboring lots of childhood jealousy and anger towards my cousins.

And I hope this doesn't come out wrong, but in a way having their lives fall in the crapper makes me feel better about my own life. My life ain't so bad after all. I mean, so I'm single. But I have a nice house, the sun shines, the sky is blue, my kittycat likes me most of the time and I'm in good health. Sometimes I guess I need a reminder that I have it pretty good most of the time.

So, I resolve that today is a good day. I'm wearing a cute new top that I bought at the weekend, which is a medium (OK, a large cut medium but I tried the large on and it was too big). My boss is out for the day. The yard is perking up since the rainy season started. I am doing well with my healthy eating. Life is good.

Question

I have an off-topic question for you all.

So, I mentioned a few posts ago that I order a lot of stuff online.  A few weeks ago, I put in an order for 3 things from that giant online retailer that may or may not have the same name as a South American rainforest.  Well, two of the things came from other companies, through their marketplace dealie thing.  I was a bit peed off at this, because it meant that I couldn't combine everything to get free shipping, but oh well.

One item took a long time to arrive.  A long time.  It was kind of annoying, but it eventually turned up.  No harm, no foul.  Except then a few days ago I received an email from said giant online retailer asking me to give feedback on the two companies I received shipment from.

I did it, and rated one 5 stars, and the other 3.  On the 3 star review I said the item took a long time to arrive, and it was a lot of money for shipping for what it was (it was a very lightweight object).  What I didn't also say was that it was a LOT of shipping to pay when they obviously shipped it the cheapest way possible - by regular mail.  Which is why it took so long to get to me, because they were cheapskates.

So, on Saturday morning. the phone went.  It was a woman from this company.  She said they weren't happy about the 3-star rating, because that was "just the same as a 1-star rating", and that they'd investigated my claim that the item took a long time to get there, and they'd put it in the mail the day after I placed my order, so it was the Post Office's fault.  And as for the cost of shipping, they have standard shipping rates, so it's not their fault that I happened to order something lightweight.  She asked me if I'd go and change my feedback so that it didn't reflect so badly on them.  She also asked me to go ask my mail carrier WHY my shipping was delayed.  As if!

I did go and log on the site to see if it was possible to change my feedback, but it isn't, so I left it as is.  But the more I think about this, the more annoyed I get.  I gave a fair and accurate rating.  Every other company ships using FedEx or UPS or even Priority Mail.  Why should I have to pay $5.99 for regular mail?  For something that they stuffed in a padded envelope?  But more to the point, isn't it an invasion of my privacy to feckin' call me on a Saturday morning???  They could have emailed me.

I'm in two minds about whether to complain to the giant online retailer.  Do you guys think I'm overreacting?  Is this the hormones talking or would you be annoyed too?

Weighty news

I have finally managed to lose 10 lbs since the last ER day.  Yippee!  Except of course it's not a real 10 lbs, because at least 2 or 3 lbs of that previous high weight was stims bloat, which I'll no doubt put back on again before ER day this time.  So it'd be nicer to have lost like 12 or 13 so that I can actually be 10 lbs lower on ER day.  Not that it really matters, but you know, I like to play mind games with myself.

Heh, I just thought, if I added up all the times I've announced on this blog that I've lost weight, and didn't take into account that I remain largely silent during the times that I'm piling it back on (and then some), I could probably kid myself that I'm a size 6 by now.   If only, eh?   But THIS time it's forever because I am done being overweight.  I am done, done, done.  And I really think I can do it now because I'm not trying to starve myself and am taking it slow and steady.  So I will be a skinny acupuncturist!  I will, I will, I will.