Just Friday

Welp, I haven't really been focusing on weight loss since starting acupuncture and my TCM diet, so I think Fitness Friday will be taking a hiatus. I'm still working out consistently, but because my new diet is so restrictive, I've been more lax about the things that I can eat which means that I don't always make the healthiest choices. That's not to say that I'm eating crap all the time, but I'm not as strict about it as I was before.

In my TCM diet, I'm only allowed alcohol during ovulation. Last weekend, I was certain that I was super close to ovulation, so I may have felt confident allowing myself some beers when we attended the Stone Sour Fest at Stone Brewery with our friends Bob and Maryla. I was DD so that helped me to not over-indulge, but it was difficult because I wanted to taste all of the beers.

This was on Sunday... I may have also squeezed in a couple beers on Saturday night when we hung out with Megan and Chris. We went to dinner at Pint House in Fullerton which offers a BEER TOWER, so of course we had to order that. Duh. (They also had a really great "backyard" patio which I really wished was my own backyard patio.)

After dinner, we adventured a few blocks to find Bootlegger's Brewery. We'd had Bootlegger beer locally before but had yet to visit. It's a low-key place that kind of looks like it's run out of a truck garage with it's large roll-up door. There's a few picnic tables inside, but the majority of the tables are outside. They serve their beers in mason jars and have cornhole and a giant Jenga game set up outside.

It was a fun weekend! I didn't feel bad for cheating and having a few beers because I was so certain that I was so close to ovulation. Turns out that I didn't ovulate til like Tuesday or Wednesday, so then I was like "oops! Cheat days I guess!" Meh, I'm not going to worry too much about it. The rest of my TCM diet is going swimmingly. I haven't cheated with the food at all and I'm still seeing results in my treatment which motivates me to stick to it.

[Now it's time for some cycle talk.]

Last Friday I mentioned that Dr. Lee gave me a second herbal blend to help raise my temperatures. Well, it definitely helped regulate my temperatures, but on Monday he upped my dose in hopes of bringing it up by another tenth of a degree or so. It sounds minuscule, but it makes a difference. My follicular phase (pre-ovulation) temps are hovering between 97 and 97.1. Ideally, I need to be at least 97.2.

The red line indicates when the app I use things I ovulated based on temperatures (temperatures always rise after ovulation) and other indicators like positive ovulation tests and physical symptoms that I record. This post-ovulation phase is the Luteal Phase where we wait for hopefully (and ideally) implantation. My temps so far aren't looking great, though. They need to be up to at least 97.8 and so far, I'm not quite there. I have a feeling my herbs will be adjusted again on Monday to help me out here.

Now, we wait. Anyone who has tracked their fertility to try getting pregnant knows how much this two week wait sucks. In the first half of the cycle, there's stuff to do that helps the days go by while you're waiting to ovulate. Checking symptoms, peeing on sticks, and with this TCM stuff there are things like keeping my feet warm and using a heating pad on my belly every other day, then, of course, all the doing it. (Did I mention that according to Dr. Lee, I need to immediately prop my butt up and stay that way for a minimum of three hours after it? That was fun trying to sleep like that for three days in a row.)

After ovulation it feels like there's no purpose. All I get to do now is continue my diet and herbs, acupuncture, and temping just for the purpose of recording it all the while, somehow retaining my sanity while waiting for my period to show or not show. (I guess we can still do it for the fun of it.)

It's a lot. This is all kind of a lot to maintain which is why we've taken so many breaks from really going gung-ho with trying. Now that I'm seeing Dr. Lee, though, I have a new hope. His office is basically wallpapered with successes; the walls covered with collages of thank you notes and photos of babies and pregnant women. I try to read some of the notes on every visit.

This last Monday, I found this one from a couple who were told that they couldn't conceive. This is what gives me hope.

Treating Infertility with Acupuncture

I made Jamie take a picture of me and my needles.

Remember when Jamie and I consulted with a new fertility specialist and were really excited to start treatments with him? And then remember when the months of April and May were jam packed with travel, family visits, and home restoration after our flood? It was looking like June was going to be our month to get our testing done for the new RE so that hopefully we could get back to doing insemination in July.

But then, a week and a half ago, my good friend and neighbor Clare sent me an email. In it was a link to a book and an anecdote about a friend of a friend having followed its guide and fell pregnant after having been unable to for a few years.

The book was The Infertility Cure by Randine Lewis. I read the reviews and the preview pages. Less than a half hour later, I had the book downloaded on my iPad and I started reading. By page 60, I was sold.

It's all about using acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine to treat infertility. I'm going to tell you straight up that I've never been one for holistic medicine, and though I'd never given it much thought or attention, it always felt hokey and hippy-dippy to me. But this book! This book straightened it out for me, at least when it comes to acupuncture and TCM for infertility. In the basic of basic explanations, TCM and acupuncture serve to balance your reproductive system and create the best possible environment for conception.

I could try to explain it all here, but it'd be wordy and probably not well thought out, so I'll tell you my situation and what the doc planned out for me.

First, we went over the details about my cycle. While I haven't been diagnosed by my OB/GYN or RE with this, he believes I have mild endometriosis based on my signs and symptoms during my period. This means that I have endometrial tissue outside of the uterus causing my immune system to fight hard against something that isn't supposed to be there. Unfortunately, my immune system knows that it wants to eradicate endometrial cells, but it doesn't know that it only needs to fight off the ones outside the uterus so it also attacks the endometrium making it unwelcome for our baby-to-be.

He also looked at my past Basal Body Temperature (BBT) charts to help assess the situation (also something that my RE did not do.) From my chart he can see that my overall body temperature is too low. After ovulation (where the vertical red line is) my temperature should be in the 98 degree range, but mine is always still in the 97 range. (He also pointed out that my spikes in temperature could also be a sign of my immune system battling the endometriosis.) He also noted that my luteal phase, the time between ovulation and my next period, is too short.

One of my own charts.

An example of a good chart.

From there he decided that the main goal for me at home right now is to basically warm up. I need to keep my feet warm and not drink anything cold. He even recommends drinking my water closer to body temperature rather than even room temperature. He's put me on a restrictive diet of no coffee or tea (not even decaf), no alcohol (except during ovulation, but hey, I've been meaning to cut back!), no dairy, and no beef or lamb. He also gave me plenty of suggestions as to what I can and should eat and in what amounts.

Oh, and herbs.

The diet, the warming up, the herbs, and the acupuncture will all serve to balance my body and my reproductive system. It should regulate my periods and work to create the optimal environment for conception.

It's recommended to give it 3-6 months, but I've read a lot of success stories (and I mean a lot because I can't stop Googling it) of women in my same situation, with years of negative pregnancy tests and even some failed inseminations and IVF procedures who start acupuncture and get pregnant naturally within a month or two. While that definitely gives me hope and makes me feel like we're finally going to get what we've been working so hard for for so long, we also have a longer-term plan. We plan to try acupuncture and TCM alone for about 6 months, then from there we will likely pair it with fertility treatments.

IUI (insemination) has about a 20% success rate when used with fertility drugs. My acupuncture doc has a 38% success rate with women using acupuncture and herbs alone. His overall success rate with women using  either IUI, IVF, or acupuncture and herbs alone is 65%. Based on these numbers, I'm feeling really optimistic.

I feel like acupuncture and TCM work to naturally change your body to make it more ready and receptive to conception whereas the treatments with my RE felt really invasive and forceful with synthetic hormones trying to replicate a fertile womb. I'm definitely not against using IUI and IVF with fertility drugs; we will go back to that if we have to. But I'm happy to try something natural with side effects that are positive that seeks to fix the problem rather than try to MacGyver the hell out of it.

Moving Forward and Starting Over

Hey, remember when this was a blog about trying to conceive and infertility?

This photo is irrelevant.

Since last fall, I've come to know nine women who are pregnant. This doesn't include the dozen or so women that I follow here in the wide world of the interweb, either. The realization of how many women I know and "know" that are getting pregnant led to a meltdown... a major meltdown.

For a woman, unexplained infertility is absolutely, soul-crushingly heartbreaking. For a man? I really couldn't tell you how it feels. Jamie is still so frustratingly optimistic. During my sob-fest, he urged me to calm down. This made it worse. I asked him why he doesn't feel like I do and he only offered me "I do. Yes, it sucks. I'm upset about it too."

I didn't think that was enough. After nearly four years, (five, if you count a year of not-so-carefully being off birth control) I'm not upset; I'm heartbroken and I want him to be heartbroken too. I told him that I didn't understand how he couldn't be or why he isn't; why after so long, he's still satisfied with "it'll happen." I want him to hurt as much as I do.

I don't remember if I mentioned this (and if I had, I can't find it), but after our last cycle of Clomid and IUI in November, we decided to take a break. Christmas was ahead of us and we wanted to take it easy for that month and take some time to start paying off our fertility treatments. Then we found out that my mom had breast cancer, which led to my heading to Ohio for two weeks for her surgery and to be her caretaker during her recovery. So needless to say, our fertility treatments were put on the back burner for the past two and a half months.

I must have gotten my point across during my meltdown, as the next morning Jamie asked for the name of the new Reproductive Endocrinologist I had wanted to see. After looking him up on his iPhone, Jamie suggested I make an appointment.

The RE I had seen last year was fairly underwhelming. I never heard suggestions from him as to what more we could be doing. It was my suggestion to him that we try IUI. He never gave me the feeling that he wanted to do everything possible to help me conceive. So I took the advice of my buddy Carrie, who has nothing but rave reviews of the RE that helped her conceive her son, and I put in an appointment request for a consultation with him.

Here's to hoping that this new doctor can help us. I really, really need this to be our year.

No Appropriate or Creative Title

Since the turn of the new year, I've found myself struggling to remain hopeful. As we approach four years of trying to conceive a child, I'm becoming frustrated and angry. Today is one of those days where the hurt has piled up within me, urging me to just go back to bed and sleep it off. Nearly four years of my body essentially failing me has taken it's toll. There's nothing I've wanted more in my life than to get pregnant and start our family; having been refused this by my own body is devastating.

Jamie says I'm pessimistic. I say hope and disappointment are directly related; the more hopeful I am, the more disappointed I am when I find I'm not pregnant. What he sees as pessimism is my attempt at guarding myself from my own internal crash at the sight of that first smear of blood.

Infertility feels like an attack on my womanhood; like I am a failure at my most primitive responsibility. While I know I am not alone, and know friends and family who have or are currently struggling with infertility, it's isolating. Being seemingly surrounded by pregnant women is difficult, to say the least. I'm extremely happy for the pregnant women in my life, but I am extremely sad for me. What was once mild envy and a starry-eyed daydream of my own future has turned to a feeling of resentment toward myself. Why can't I do that? Why won't my body do that for me? 

What's worse is knowing that had I not suffered through infertility all of this time, I'd have a toddler by now. Why stop there? I could have even had a second child by now! But I don't have either, all because my body won't work for me.

"It'll happen!" I'm told. While I appreciate the support, it makes me want to scream, "WHEN!?" though I know no one has that answer.

"Enjoy your time being kid-less!" is also a common suggestion and we do. We take full advantage of not having any children, and it's fantastic. Jamie and I have a lot of fun with each other, our family, and our friends, but I'm ready to put that on the back burner. I'm ready to not sleep. I'm ready for the gross stuff and I'm ready for the sweet stuff. I'm ready to be in charge of creating and molding a little life. I'm ready to teach and learn from it.

I'm ready to be a mother and to see Jamie as a dad and there's nothing worse right now than being inexplicably denied of these things.

That Time I Misplaced My Baby

I don't have a baby, but I just woke up from a dream that I did.

[Insert Wayne's World dream sequence sound effect.]

(Are you aware that there are no videos or sound bites of Wayne and Garth making that sound anywhere on the internet? WHY?)

A woman and a baby walk into a bar. The woman was me. I set my baby down on the bar next to a group of some of my best friends from over the years. I said hello to my long-time best friend Hannah, my closest-in-age cousin (that I spent most of my childhood days with) Amy, and two of my super long time good friends going way back to being Girl Scouts together as small children, Tessa and Lynsay. I was so excited to see them since I rarely get to these days. 

August 2011

After I grabbed a beer, I was distracted and brought into another room of the bar where I met some random people and Rob Lowe. (What?) When I returned to my friends at the bar, my baby was gone. 

"Hannah, where's my baby? Where's my baby!?"

"Your baby is fine. You can't walk off like that and leave your baby."

She sighed and opened a door that led down a stairwell to another door to the outside, gesturing toward the car seat that was sitting at the bottom of the steps. I ran down the stairs only to find my cat, Chase, strapped in the car seat. 

"Hannah! It's my cat! It's my cat! I brought my cat!"

"Well you know what? You shouldn't have brought your baby to a f'king bar, Sam! You couldn't go without a beer for one night? Have a f'king beer at home! Don't be so f'king selfish!"

Hannah ranted on and I just sat down, defeated and said, "You're right."

Then someone came over and told me that Rob Lowe's name was actually Pete, and then I woke up. 

This anxiety induced dream most definitely comes from the fact that today is the day I go to the doctors to test and it's freaking me out. My last two cycles never made it to this day; I got my period before the appointment. 

It's been so difficult waiting, but now that the day is here, I want to keep waiting. I've been spotting a little bit today and yesterday, but that's not a definite sign of anything. It could mean that my period is coming, but it's also common in early pregnancy. I'm trying to set myself up for a negative result to protect myself, but it's difficult when I don't have any of my usual PMS symptoms. Every other cycle I've ever had for the past 3.5 years, I've had bloating for a few days before my period and sore breasts for up to a week before my period. I have neither of those today.

I know it will be a tease, but no matter what result I get, I likely won't post about it here right away. It's obviously important to share any good news with ourselves and our families first. And if it's bad news? It will be equally as important to have time to feel my feelings and figure out what's next. 

My palms are sweaty.

 

Seven Million

I haven't really shared much about this third cycle of fertility treatments. I guess it's mostly because there weren't any new developments. When I went in for my ultrasounds to monitor my follicle growth after taking my generic Clomid, it showed I had one large follicle and three smaller follicles. My large follicle was at an acceptable size to give me my shot to trigger ovulation, but they thought since my follicles in the past grew much larger, we could wait a day and try to get the smaller, not-so-ripe follicles large enough to trigger as well.

It turns out that I didn't need the trigger shot. When I had my ultrasound the next day, it showed that my large follicle had ovulated. It wasn't too late, though, since we deduced that it likely happened early that morning. I was even having some pretty significant cramping on the way to this appointment that had quickly gone away, so I was feeling comfortable that I had really just ovulated.

But time was of the essence. We had to do the IUI that day, as soon as possible. I called Jamie at work. He carpools and didn't drive that day, so I had to pick him up, take him home then deliver his little buddies to the doctor's office for preparation. I managed all of this in about an hour, so I was feeling... accomplished? I don't know, I guess I needed a win, so I chose that.

It takes about an hour for them to prepare the insemination. Basically, they separate Jamie's super sperm from the fluid so it's just a small concentrated amount that they shoot into my uterus via catheter through my cervix. It's really fun?

Luckily this time was much easier since I had just ovulated, my cervix was more open, which made the process much quicker than the last cycle. Once it's finished, they propped my butt up and made me lay there for 10 minutes. They set an egg timer and offered me magazines.

And now we're waiting. Again. It's the hardest part of trying to conceive. Right now I've got about six days until I find out if it worked. If my past two cycles are a prediction, then I'll find out before six days if it didn't work. If, in fact, it didn't work this cycle, we've decided to take the next cycle off to reassess and reevaluate and possibly get a second opinion on how we should be handling this.

If it did work, then scratch all that.

Story of My Life

Self explanatory.

I spent all of Saturday just waiting for my period to show. My boobs stopped hurting, which meant that my progesterone dropped, which meant that my uterus was going to start ripping itself apart at any minute. I got my period on Sunday morning while my mom was still here. Part of telling the world that you're trying to get pregnant is having to deal with their sad faces and "it'll happen" sentiments, so I didn't really feel like saying anything to her about it. She wouldn't have been so cheesy about it, but I really just wasn't ready to talk to anyone about it.

Jamie and I considered taking this cycle off for a break, but in the end, agreed to try once more. If it doesn't happen this cycle, we'll probably take a break next cycle. This whole thing is really mentally exhausting. It's really hard to find a healthy balance of being hopeful but realistic, and I don't really think there's a ladder tall enough to climb up and sit on that fence. When I try to stay positive, I get my hopes up which are later crushed by menstruation; when I try to be realistic, I depress myself, which is only amplified by a new cycle.

Unexplained infertility is really taxing. Why can't I get pregnant? Why won't my body work? What is wrong with me? What is it going to take? Jamie keeps reassuring me that we have time and others have said the same. "You're young!" Yes. Yes I am. And if it's this difficult for me to get pregnant in my twenties, it sure as hell is not going to be easier in my thirties. I'm pretty sure it's all downhill from here if we wait. Jamie calls this pessimistic; I call it realistic.

It's really difficult to keep myself from slipping into feeling like it's never going to happen; that I will never carry a baby inside of me. It's a depressing thought that feels like truth at times, so it's important to keep trying to find that balance. It's also really important to me to keep doing all we can to get pregnant, but I can't help but feel like it's really overwhelming Jamie, so we really have to make it more of a point to sit down and get on the same page, and if that means taking a break, then we'll take a break.

For right now, all I can do is try to wipe a clean mental slate and start again.

Round Two

It had been a really, really rough day when I got my last period. I had started spotting, which to any woman in the two week wait is full of mixed emotions. We just hope and hope that it's implantation bleeding, which would happen either around when your period is due, or earlier. It was Monday when I started spotting, and my two week wait wasn't going to be over until that Thursday, so I was really on board with this implantation bleeding thing.

Of course, I spent the next hour or so Googling it and reading forum posts and two week wait stories like I have in cycles past. I don't know why I keep doing this as it pretty much just makes it worse when I do actually get my period, but I just can't loosen my grip on hope, even if it does mean a more severe disappointment.

The worst was yet to come. Not long after I started spotting, I scrolled through Facebook as I normally would. I came upon an ultrasound picture that someone posted to announce their pregnancy. Instantly, I smile and think 'Aww! That's so exciting! They're going to make one gorgeous child, for sure.' but then my hormones and three-and-a-half years of not-being-able-to-get-pregnant-ness took over and I ugly-face cried. You know, the kind where not only does your face contort to Jim Carrey proportions, but tears squirt out of your face as if your eyeballs were attached to one of those pump-action Super Soaker backpacks that I coveted as a kid.

Soon enough, I composed* myself and went on with my day. That is, until the soul-crushing moment about an hour later when I went to the bathroom and realized I had started my period. Jim Carrey face, check; Super Soaker tears, check; but this time, lets throw in some sobs that, had our windows been open, may have led our neighbors to believe that we were harboring a seal pup.

I let it happen. I let myself feel sad because there's no use in trying to tell myself that I can't be sad that other women are getting pregnant and I cannot. It hurts and I have to feel it.

Keeping it together for the duration of the day was not easy, and I wasn't always successful. The next day, it was back to the drawing board. I knew immediately that I wanted an IUI this cycle. Jamie and I discussed it, then spoke with our doctor about it who is a big advocate of it, so we went forward.

Once again, I took Clomid to stimulate my follicles to create more than one egg. Last cycle, I had three follicles, but one kind of took over so I only had one egg. This cycle, I had four follicles. The one on the right was huge and ready to burst on Monday, my birthday. I had had my HCG trigger shot the day before to make me ovulate, so when I had my first IUI on Monday morning, the timing looked perfect. I went in again on Tuesday for a second IUI, and I still had my three follicles on the left side that were going to ovulate that day. So it looks like I had four eggs this cycle! And, because Jamie has super sperm, he managed to produce 5 million sperm two days in a row, which impressed the doctor since sperm count is usually lower on the second day.

Lying in wait, literally, after the IUI on my birthday. Let's hope it's good luck.

I'm also really hopeful this cycle because IUI removes the whole process of trying to get those swimmers through my cervix without dying. If my - GROSS ALERT - cervical mucus isn't up to Goldilocks'** standards, then it can seriously decrease the chances of spermies ever making it through the cervix.

So once again, we wait. I've got about ten days left, which will be a long ten days.



* I am glad I caught my typo before publishing this as I had originally typed "composted" instead of "composed." 
** Just right, duh.

Nailed It

(via text)

Me: Ovulation confirmed!

Jamie: Sweet! What does that mean?

Me: It means we did our homework on time!

I spent the rest of yesterday trying to figure out how I am going to stay sane during the next two weeks. I go in next week for a progesterone check, then the week after that is when I can test. What am I going to do during that time? I know that I should just live life normally, but unfortunately, I'm not good at that. What I'll likely do instead is look at baby things on Pinterest and make sure to get my hopes high enough to set myself up for major disappointment in the likely event that my test is negative. 

Pregnant or not, I've officially begun my transition to decaf. I've never really relied on the caffeine, anyway, so it really shouldn't be too difficult. 

I thought this was Newman's Own until I realized that guy on the box isn't Paul Newman.

Jamie came home yesterday with our favorite salads for dinner and a card. Of course, I'm thinking it's something sappy that was going to make me "aw shucks" all over the place. It wasn't. 

It was way better than I could have ever expected.

So, yes, I ovulated... we did our homework... and now we wait. I hate the waiting! 

When Everyone Knows

Blogging about trying to conceive has been really beneficial in that I've gained a lot of support and encouragement. I'm finding that people are genuinely interested in our progress and I am happy to update them. Currently, I'm in rehearsals for a local show I've done annually since 2006 in which there are a large number of women whom I've known this whole time that have turned into my little cheer squad. (Carrie's my head cheerleader. You've probably seen her comments here. Hi Carrie.) There's nothing like walking into rehearsal and hearing "Oh! How big were your follicles!?" "Are you guys gonna DO IT tonight?" "Are you doing insemination or are you just gonna bang it out?"

Another result of blogging about trying to conceive is that everyone knows when Jamie and I have to have grown-up fun-time, which normal people refer to as sex, and which now I refer to as "homework". Because of this, I get this text from John, (whom you know from my last post) whose daughter I'm currently babysitting while I type this. (She's in bed; I'm not a neglectful babysitter, guys.)

No, Jamie is not here with me.

In the end, it's perfect. During this time that otherwise might be really stressful and emotional, I have my friends who make me laugh, my family who supports me from afar (which is why I started the blog, initially) and my cheerleaders who overwhelm me (in a good way) with their excitement. I have all of this because I decided to be open and pretty much over-share on the internet.

Totally worth it.

Ultrasounds and a Tan Gent

Gentlemen, yes, that wand goes where you think it goes.

By now you all probably know that I've been hopped up on egg-making pills and stabbing my gut with blood-thinners. I was on Clomid for about 5 days at the beginning of my cycle. For those unaware, the Clomid is to try to get my ovaries to spit out more than one egg in order to increase my chances of getting pregnant.

Then at day 11 of my cycle, I went in for an ultrasound to get my follicles measured. The follicles are what actually hold an egg, and when they're called to action, they grow until it's time to launch that egg out into the world. The world being my fallopian tube and uterus. So the ultrasounds measure the follicles, which are about ready when they reach at least 20mm in diameter.

My first ultrasound on Thursday revealed that my largest follicle was only at 18mm, my two other follicles were only at about 15 and 16mm. They weren't ready and I had to come back on Saturday morning. This created a little bit of panic since Jamie and I had planned to spend Friday afternoon with our friends John and Lisl in San Diego, followed by seeing Dave Matthews that night, after which we planned to spend the night. Jamie was a little resistant to driving two cars and then leaving much earlier than was comfortable, but it was our only choice.

HEAVY PHOTO TANGENT! San Diego and DMB were fun!

Our hotel was once a bank. The rooms weren't anything special, but the common areas were cool.

We played games at one of my favorite spots in San Diego, The Tipsy Crow.

Sometimes my iPhone isn't awesome at taking photos.

It was a gorgeous day.

It was also very sunny.

Then we went to the concert, and I guess it was purple and blue.

And Dave sang songs.

We rounded out the night with late night eats at Brian's 24, which is a 24 hour restaurant with a full bar. John had beer and pancakes, Jamie had two shots with his fish sandwich, I had eggs and fried bologna and Lisl's burger had peanut butter on it (which was oddly delicious.)

THE END. (Of the tangent)

Saturday morning, after sleeping very poorly because those two shots made it impossible for Jamie to sleep anywhere other than sprawled in the center of the queen bed, I rolled out of bed and took a bath... because standing in the shower would have required too much energy. By the time I was ready to get out of the tub, Jamie had risen from his solid slumber (which left him with a stiff neck) and groggily decided that he'd ride home with me, and we were on our way.

After dropping Jamie off at home, I was on my way to my second ultrasound. I was so excited. I had been feeling my growing ovaries all day Friday (which is such a weird sensation) and was certain that my follicles were huge and ready. They weren't.

I went back in for my third ultrasound today and whoa! 24mm, ready to go! So today, since everything was looking good, they gave me my HCG trigger shot, which pretty much induces ovulation. I was given my homework for Tuesday and Wednesday, then on Thursday I'll go in so they can check everything out and confirm that I ovulated.

When I got in my car to head home, I had a quick pang of anxiety. It wasn't really a bad anxiety, I suppose, if that makes any sense, but it was maybe more of a reality check. Today was the first day that it felt really real that I could be a parent in 2013 and that freaked me out for a minute. Okay, well, it still freaks me out, but I'm managing the idea. Even though we've been trying for three years, this was the day that it felt the most real and the most possible.

So, I'm feeling weird and excited and scared and frightened and oh my God but mostly excited. And scared. Did I mention scared?

Giving Myself a Shot

So! On the 10th, I posted about waiting for my next cycle to start so we can begin with the fertility stuffs. Well, I started my period on Monday and called the doctor. They had me come in for an ultrasound to check my ovaries and went over the plan with me.

The first part of the plan involves taking Clomid pills! Easy.

The second part of the plan involves giving myself a shot, daily. Until, like, I have a baby. That's a lot of shots. I'm not sure if I mentioned it here before, but the shot is a blood-thinner, which I need because my dad gave me a blood clotting disorder. Thanks, Dad! Anyway, shots. My 30 day supply of syringes came yesterday and I decided to record myself giving myself my first shot.

Unfortunately, this video is more than seven minutes long. Unfortunately, it's also terribly out of focus because I couldn't get my camera to focus and gave up. Fortunately, you can still tell what's going on and fortunately, you can still hear my reactions.

If you're on a time crunch, fast forward to 4:30 for a good time, or to 6:00 to just see the shot.

Progression!

... or barf. Or both. Here's to hoping this license plate frame is predicting my future.

Jamie and I tend to be a little resistant, communicatively, in our relationship. It's not something we do on purpose, and it's definitely something that we're aware of and have discussed. We've acknowledged that it is something we both need to work on to keep our marriage running as smoothly as possible. Because of this, we tend to have a biannual State of the Union blowout full of emotion, tears, yelling, confusion, hugs and honesty. As much as I wish we communicated enough to prevent this, we just don't. We make a point, every time, to make an effort to keep each other up to speed on important issues with ourselves and each other, but it gets overwhelming and we fall back into place. As much as I do not enjoy this, I'm grateful that we, at the least, are adults about it. We don't let ourselves get petty and try our hardest to not only hear, but listen to each other. Often, we make good progress and figure some stuff out in the end.

This time, one of our important decisions that we agreed upon was finally taking the next step in our fertility treatments. After all of our testing, we decided to kind of take a "moment" and enjoy a little more of our time as a kid-less couple. While we are thoroughly enjoying it, we often find ourselves out and pointing out babies to each other. More specifically, little baby girls with big flower headbands. Jamie's been ready to start a family, obviously, since we've been trying for three years, but now I think he's finally caught up to me with the Baby Fever.

An example of baby fever mixed with enjoying kidlessness. (Selma's and Casa are our local watering holes.)

So we're taking the next step! I called up the fertility clinic to figure out what's next. When I start my next period in a few weeks, I'll call the office and they'll have me come in for an ultrasound and start me on Clomid to jump start ovulation. Thanks to my dad for passing down his hereditary blood clotting disorder, I'll also be taking shots of Lovenox, an anticoagulant, to prevent any potential disasters. Unfortunately, Lovenox is an injectable medication that I'll have to give myself. Yikes.

We're feeling ready to go! Really ready. Wish us luck!

I'm a Contributor! I Contribute.

This photo has nothing to do with this post.

A few weeks ago, as I was blog-hopping, I discovered Sarah and her blog, Well and Cheaply. I read through her recent posts and found myself reading a couple weeks worth of her blog. Sarah has a string of really honest posts under the label of Things I'm Afraid to Tell You; the first I came to was this post titled On Having Kids Part 2. She quoted a post of similar nature from her old blog, and it was probably this one line that helped me really get what she was saying:

"Not wanting to or not being sure if you want to have kids feels a lot similar to being an atheist.  What about it does everyone else see that I don't?"

She goes on to explain that a year later, she suddenly caught a tad bit of Baby Fever and how that conflicts with her views on how our growing population is affecting our planet.

I thought it was a perfectly honest post that I enjoyed reading, so I left a thoughtful comment. An hour or so later, I received an email from Sarah thanking me for my comment. She also mentioned that she was going on vacation at the end of this month and had the idea of running a series of guest posts about various topics relating to having children. She had checked out my blog and asked if I'd be interested in contributing on the more specific topic of trying to conceive and considering adoption.

I agreed, thought about it for a few days and on a Saturday morning while lazing on the couch, I put together my post and sent it over. The post I wrote for her is really an expansion of feelings that I've alluded to in previous posts, but I don't think that I've elaborated on them as much as I could have, so it felt good to focus a little more on those things.

My post is up today, so please, please visit Sarah's blog and read it if you're interested. If you have the time, read through the rest of the series as well, they're all so well done.

"Hello, Newman."

Can you guess who the Newman is in my life? Or maybe I should say "what". It's my period. Newman is my period. My period is such a Newman.

Jamie and I watched the mini-series Hatfields & McCoys on The History Channel last week. Roseanna McCoy gets oopsie knocked-up by Johnse Hatfield, "Mama, I ain't had muh'flow in two months." Unfortunately for me, I don't get to say that quite yet. Fortunately for me, I won't be shunned when I don't get muh'flow since the Ellisons & Stancliffs have no on going historical family feud.

Newman showed up yesterday throwing us back to square one for another cycle. I'm not surprised; while it was definitely possible to have gotten pregnant last cycle, we were a little off our game. It happens. We'll try again!

All of the Waiting

The worst part about trying to conceive is the disappointment of either getting a negative pregnancy test, or worse, your period. The second worst part about trying to conceive is the Two Week Wait (between ovulating and testing). Trying to conceive is a constant cycle of waiting. Waiting for your period to be over. Waiting for ovulation. Waiting for that Big Fat Positive!

In the beginning it's exciting. I can't wait to find out if I'm pregnant! You wait. You test early even though you know that biology is against you; even if you are pregnant, you're going to get a negative. It doesn't matter, though. You unwrap that pregnancy test like rainbows and unicorns are going to fly out of it and then you pee on it. You've never wanted to pee on something so glorious so badly! Then you wait and twiddle your thumbs.

It's time! You look at your test-- nothing. You squint your eyes and hold it up to the light. You tilt it at different angles because, hey, that line could just be really faint. You take it apart because that clear plastic is obstructing your view. You're desperate for that line to show up and it's clouding your judgement. Once you concede to the negative test, you console yourself with Well, it is early, anyway. I'll test again in a few days.


Then you menstruate.

There was nothing more crushing than getting my period. Even if I had my usual PMS symptoms, my thought was that if I wasn't bleeding then I could very well be pregnant. As time went on, we focused less and less on trying to get pregnant and my periods became much less disappointing. There were still some cycles where I felt like our timing may have been good, but overall, we were taking it easy.

We've definitely spent our time enjoying and taking advantage of being kid-less. We go out for dinner and drinks often. We take overnight or weekend trips. We drink with our friends til 2am. We are doing things that we know we won't be doing once we get our family started.

It's strange to think that had we been successful when we first started trying, we'd have a 2 year old by now. That just blows my mind! I can't even imagine how different our lives would have been had that happened. I've mentioned before how grateful I am for the solid circle of friends we've managed to get to like us over the past couple years. Had we gotten pregnant right away, we might not have been able to grow those relationships and create the support system that Future Baby will undoubtedly have. I feel so much more comfortable and ready to start our family, now.

Of course, with readiness comes, once again, waiting. Feeling positive that I ovulated yesterday, I've made my not-so-triumphant return to the Two Week Wait. Let's see how well I can stay level-headed!

No Big News

I have no big news to report, which is good, I guess.

No big news means Chuck has gone 6 days without the crazies coming out. I think he just needed new glasses.

Just kidding, obviously, but my new glasses totally look better on him.

We've stuck with crating Chuck while we're gone and so far it's gone really well. He seems comfortable and while he expresses that he's eager to get out when we walk over to un-latch the door, he's not clawing and being impatient. In most cases, he says hi then ends up deciding to go back in his bed if we're not doing anything particularly interesting to him. So hooray! Things are good with Chuck. (He goes tomorrow to get the sutures taken out of his knee.)

(P.S. Click here to see the best collection of Instagram images ever.)

More no big news is that we have nothing medical planned on the fertility front. Since Jamie's tests were good and my HSG proved all clear, we're just going to take some time to Baby Dance and see how that works out for us now. The HSG can clear up any minor blockages and can also leave those tubes a li'l more open for the first few months after the test, so I think we're just going to try our best to take advantage of that.

The problem with knowing that my chances of getting pregnant are higher, even just ever so slightly, is that my hopes are UP. My brain is saying Come on, after how many months of disappointment, why should that change now? Be real and don't expect much But my uterus is telling me This is our month, man! Then my brain is like Dude, you're going to cry when you start bleeding from your uterus. Your uterus is an asshole. In the figurative sense. In the literal sense, we'd be referring to your cloaca. You don't have a cloaca.


So it's getting tricky again. I'm feeling the excitement I had back when we first started trying, but I'm not going to go back to charting. Keeping track of my body temperature, peeing on ovulation predictors and saying "We have to do it now!" became really stressful and not fun. I think I've spent enough time paying attention to my body to understand the general time frame that ovulation takes place and just keep working that angle. I just don't want to let myself get too hopeful, yet I can't let myself get too cynical either.

I find myself stomping up the stairs, with crossed arms yelling "It's not FAIR!" before slamming the door. Well, mentally, that is. I know that some ladies reading this can relate to feeling really sad when someone's all "Oops! We're having a baby!" If you're an Oops We're Having a Baby, I don't hate you. I don't wish ill will upon you. I'm just so envious, no- I'll admit it, jealous of your ability to get pregnant without trying when we've been trying for so long to no avail. It's like I'm the starving kid in Africa your mom told you about to get you to finish your dinner, except that I'm not in Africa. I'm sitting at your dinner table, watching you eat, wondering Why can't I have that, too?


So, we'll keep trying. Starting this blog has helped me feel better about continuing on with our mission and I believe that comes from the support I've had from those who read it and I am so grateful for the response I've had to it. I am really looking forward to the day that I can share Big News instead of No Big News.

"It's a Series of Tubes"

I love my husband.

[Lady-parts talk is expected in this post. Reader discretion is advised.]

I woke up yesterday a complete nervous wreck and it only worsened as I thought more about my HSG. Of course I did the wrong thing and Googled other peoples' experiences. What I found out is that HSG stories are like product reviews in that people really only feel motivated to write about them when they've had a bad experience. 

Oh my God they're going to put a clamp... on my CERVIX?

It wasn't looking good. I knew I was allowed to take some pain relief before going in, so I then Googled what kind I was allowed to take. More specifically, if I was allowed to take some of my leftover wisdom teeth Vicodin. Luckily, I read that some women had be prescribed some heavier pain killers so I felt okay with my decision to pop half a pill an hour before. (I had to drive myself. Didn't wanna over do it.)

This ended up being a wise decision. As you see in my text screen shot above, my half a Vicodin was just enough to keep me from getting my usual full-on run-to-the-bathroom nervous stomach. It also helped me when I sat on the x-ray table in an open back gown while I waited for the doctor and was being told by the x-ray tech what the procedure would be like.

The doctor finally came in and was so... nothing. He wasn't personable or warm or comforting, but he ended up being very quick and efficient. He looked like a mix between Alexander Mahone on Prison Break and Robert California on The Office. For real. Anyway, he put in the speculum and cranked it a few times. (Did he use a ratchet?) He "prepared the cervix", which I don't remember what this entailed but I'm pretty certain he didn't use the scary clamp that I read about. Then... uh oh, time for the catheter. I was so not stoked on this part.

I'm serious.

The catheter was put in and while it was certainly uncomfortable and unpleasant, it wasn't hugely painful. I was more put off by knowing what was causing the cramp-like feeling I was having after it was in place and had pumped the liquid into my uterus and fallopian tubes. Once I kind of recognized that it felt mostly like menstrual cramps, I was okay. (Thanks again, Vicodin!)

I think they took 5 x-rays, then he left to look at them and decide what's up. During this time, I had to deal with the clean-up and getting dressed. All of that liquid they pumped into my uterus had to go somewhere, and let's just say that it doesn't all spill out of your fallopes. I knew it was going to be an adventure when the tech laid a sheet on the floor and handed me a towel.

After I cleaned up and redressed, I was taken to the doc's office so he could show me the x-rays. They told me to have a seat and he'd be there in a moment. He walked in pretty much as they told me that, threw the films up on the light, said "There's the left one, there's the right one. They're open and they look good." and that was it. I sat down for that?

A day later, I am still having mild cramping and a little spotting, both of which are normal. I shared this with Jamie yesterday.

"As long as it's not a heavy flow, you're good. Are you wearing a pad? I read up on all of this."

I love my husband.

 

 

 

Two Things

1. I finally got a hold of someone at the radiologist! I go in Monday morning for my hysterosalpingogram. (It doesn't flow, I'm telling you.) I'm not really looking forward to the procedure, but I'm looking forward to saying "Yo wassup, fallopes?". Should someone be driving me? I thought I read that somewhere. I didn't have that in mind while scheduling my appointment for 9:30 on a Monday. Hmm.

2. I'm working on the alternate ending to My Invisalign Story. The talent and the crew had a disagreement with how things should go down and basically threw a coup against the producer and director.

If you can't figure out that metaphor, my permanent retainer and my teeth were in disagreement causing a tooth to fall out of line two days after my retainer was installed. The night before my appointment to have the movement checked out, the retainer was all "Screw you guys!" and popped out.

So because my bottom teeth fell out of line, they had to order me a stronger version of my last Invisalign tray. While I waited for that to come in, I had to wear my second to last tray at night to keep them in line and get them ready again for my last tray since they had backtracked so much that my last tray wouldn't fit! So now, I have my new bottom tray and have to wear it all the time for a few weeks to get my teeth back in line and then, I guess, they'll put in a different retainer. What the eff, man?

3. (I lied. So sue me! (Remember that phrase?)) I crushed glass with my bare hand last night. Very fragile glass in light bulb form.


I can't get this bulb to unscrew! 
"Turn it!"
I am!
"To the left."
Duh. I AM. *Hulk smash*

It left two cuts on my hand that sting like a mother every time I open my hand. It is a minor annoyance.

See? SEE? PS I love chocolate MilkBites.

"Pronunciation: You're Doing It Wrong"

Well, that's not an exact quote.

The nurse called me back. "We call it a HYS-ter-oh, sal-PING-oh-gram. You should just call it an HSG." Because, apparently, my putting the emphasis on the wrong syllables was just too difficult to translate. While I'm fine with being corrected because I'm obviously not in the medical field, there's no need to be so condescending. This lady should know that since I'm trying to schedule this, that I'm most definitely on my period and am most definitely going to overreact and take her comments personally. (This post is proof.)

For the record, I was saying hys-TER-oh-SAL-ping-oh-gram... it still just makes way more sense to me. (Time for a petition? Jokes.)


Anyway, Merriam Webster, RN told me that they do their (ahem) HSGs at Saddleback Valley Radiology and that she'd fax over my information to them and that I should call them to schedule an appointment. Great! Perfect. I will do that. She suggested I wait about 20 minutes for her to get the fax sent, and for them to receive it before calling. I called maybe 45 minutes later and ended up leaving a voice mail, which has yet to be not-so-promptly returned.

These people should know that I'm kind of on a time crunch, here; we're racing against ovulation, people! Being that this last cycle threw me for a loop with it being only 24 days long, I really have no idea when ovulation is anymore. After spending about a year checking and charting everything, I have a really good idea as to when ovulation is close, but this last cycle just completely stumped me. It made absolutely no sense. This is making me extra-eager to get moving on this stuff.

I should probably start peeing on some ovulation predictor sticks this cycle. (They call them 'kits', but what makes it a kit? It's like a double-long matchstick. I don't actually pee on it, I stick it in a cup of pee. It's classy.) I should also probably order new ones. I think the ones I have left are expired. I can't believe it's been that long since we started trying. That's definitely frustrating.


I guess I'll call back this afternoon if I don't hear from them this morning. Bah! Why can't I be someone important who has a personal assistant to do this stuff for them? I hate making calls! (First world problems.)