The Requisite “Needing Encouragement” Post

So, you know, it’s my first cycle back in the TTC game in about a year, and of course, things aren’t happening. So I need encouragement.

Can we all think back to October when my doctor SPECIFICALLY TOLD ME that he didn’t have high hopes for the first cycle off Lupron? I remember it clear as day, and yet I have been searching google like a crazy person because for the first time in all of my TTC history, I have NO test line on my OPK’s. I’m not just saying they’re negative, I’m saying they are super negative. Control line only. Maybe this is normal for some people, but not me. Usually I have at least some sort of test line and then it gradually darkens-even if I don’t ovulate. So in my head I have no LH whatsoever, and therefore no chance of ovulating this cycle.

AND I WAS TOLD THIS MIGHT HAPPEN. But I’m still feeling very “all hope is lost” about my situation. I feel like nothing will happen next cycle or the next. And then we’re done. No IVF, no IUI. That’s it.

Today is CD 13 and doc said if I was going to ovulate it would be between CD 12-16. I’ve felt so hopeless about the situation I haven’t even wanted to jump Chief’s bones. I’ve totally failed in that department. Luckily I have an ultrasound with doc tomorrow to see whats happening. Even if the ultrasound shows no ovulation will occur, I’m hoping he’ll see something like a uterine lining or any sort of egg growth at all that might indicate to us that things are waking up after the three months of Lupron and that next cycle should be better.

The bad news is that we’re supposed to get “winter weather” overnight, and even small amounts of winter weather in my area shuts everything down. Plus I’m not great at driving in the stuff, and I have to go over multiple bridges and overpasses. But I just really, really need to see my doctor. I NEED him to reassure me that there is hope, even if it’s not for this cycle.

And I wouldn’t mind that from you guys. The internet is so full of horror stories about Lupron ruining your life. Going into the holidays I just really need some hope.

Anyone?

CD 1…sort of

Ok Bleeps, it seems that today is cycle day one.

No, I did not get my period, but doc said that would be okay this time around. He said there might not be much of any uterine lining to speak of all things considered (well, mainly Lupron considered). He said I might only have spotting, I might have nothing. I’ve had nothing. So he said that if no bleeding occurs, then the seventh day after my last Prometrium is going to be cycle day one.

That day is today.

I don’t really feel like this month I have a real shot. If I’d gotten a period I would, but I didn’t, so I don’t. He said that this month wasn’t the one he was counting on (although he also said not to count it out either). This is the reset cycle, but there’s still a shot. So on Thursday I start the Femara (letrozole) and on days 12-16 I’ll be OPKing and we’ll intercourse it up, and on day 14 I’ll go in for an ultrasound to see what the haps are and on CD 30 I’ll test, and if it’s negative then I start the whole thing over with another round of prometrium. I’ve already got it all marked up in my day planner (discretely, of course).

And while I’ve waffled back and forth from very hopeful to very sad and unhopeful, the only way I can describe my attitude right now is in this one way:

Let’s do this.

Dropping the Bomb

Hello Warriors of the Womb!

Yes it is 12:10 am Monday morning and YES I should be asleep. However, I just finished a week of staycation time at home, meaning I got to stay up as late as I want and wake up whenever I wanted, meaning these next few days will suck sleeping wise. However-none of that matters. I have major updates!

Last Thursday I went to see my beloved OB/GYN. And I don’t say that sarcastically. I know a lot of you have had bad experiences with OB/GYN’s trying to help with infertility-but I love mine. He’s always been honest about the limitations of his abilities, but he has tried so many things to help me and we have been working together for almost two years now. I feel a lot of affection towards him and I think the feeling is mutual because on Thursday when he saw me for the first time in three months he came into my exam room and gave me a hug. Guys, I just love him. Anyway, after we exchanged some pleasantries and I was able to tell him that, shockingly, Lupron DIDN’T suck the big one, he asked this million dollar question:

“Do you want to get pregnant soon?”

To which my automatic response, of course, was “Um, yes.”

Except for here is the thing-I thought I had until January! The last time we talked he said that he thought January would be about the right time to give my body lots of time to come off of lupron and start up and get pregnant. Apparently I misunderstood-the last time we talked he thought I’d be pregnant by January-maybe February, because he wants me to start, like, NOW. So here’s what’s up: 12 days of prometrium (I’m on day 3) and then we wait for the period. If the period doesn’t come because I’ve been on Lupron so there may not be much lining to shed then seven days after my last prometrium counts as day one of the cycle, and days 3-7 I’m taking Femara (can we all say a big Hallelujah that I don’t have to take Clomid again?!), and then days 12-16 are intercourse intercourse intercourse. He said that we could have sex as often as 12 hours, because that’s all that most men take to “refill”. I clarified with him that once a day would suffice, and he felt that it would (I mean, we’re young, but every 12 hours? Yowzers).

We’re going to do this for three months and he seemed very positive and almost excited-he really thinks that we have a good shot-especially on month two or three. He said we should temper our expectations for the first month.

So this is what we’re doing, and I’m totally cool with it, but when I came home from the doctor that day I sort of fell apart. I hadn’t had to think about ANY of this for the last five or six months really. Especially the last three months since my surgery. I had forgotten what it was like to live a life that DIDN’T revolve around fertility drugs and a sex schedule. Also, over the last year I had sort of convinced myself that not having kids would be okay (which, in the end, it would) and that there were definite advantages to not having kids. I’m not wrong here. Freedom to do what we want, when we want, more money, less stress on our marriage, etc. etc. So when Chief came home and we started talking about it, I really went into a downward spiral of “maybe I don’t want to do this anymore”. He was supportive and said that being a dad was something he felt like he could handle with me by his side, but if I decided that parenting wasn’t for me then he would support me on it. He had league bowling that night and I told him to go ahead and go, because I felt like I needed some space to think about the situation.

I texted a friend of mine who had a baby a year ago and asked her to call me, and even though I had calmed down and stopped sobbing by the time she called, I still just fell apart when she started talking to me. But talking to her was the best choice I could have made. She was so certain and reassuring. There was no doubt in her voice that becoming a mother (even though she has to do a lot of it on her own because her husband travels during the week) was the best decision of her life, and by the end of the conversation my priorities had refocused. By the next morning when I woke up, I couldn’t believe I had ever doubted.

I am scared of not having enough money for daycare, or enough time for my husband, or selfishly, enough time for me, but I still know that I want this. I think what I was also really afraid of was how much I want it, and how much it hurts when it doesn’t happen.

So there’s your scatterbrained update friends. Wish me and my defective womb luck. It was Chief and I’s second wedding anniversary this week-maybe that’s a good sign.

Growing and growing

Thank you, thank you for all of your sweet and kind words. That last post is one of the truest and most emotional I’ve ever put down. It was such a big part of me that apparently I had to disappear for a while. It showed a lot of personal growth that I didn’t realize was happening this summer, and today I’m going to tell you about some more.

 

I have decided to stop protecting assholes who ask me when I’m going to have a baby. And by protecting I mean I’m no longer going to say “Oh, you know, when the time is right” or, my personal favorite “We’re just enjoying spending time together and don’t want to rush into anything”.

I don’t know if my mellow menopause time is wearing off (who knew that would be the result of Lupron?) and I’m turning back into a human being or what, but this past weekend a really great friend of mine got married and there were various parties to attend in her honor. One of them was a stock the bar party on Thursday night and when I got there, this totally vile girl that I went to middle and high school with was there. She is 25 like me and already has two kids. The first one was a one night stand accident, the second she planned with her husband and it took her three whole months to get pregnant, so you know, she’s really struggled.

Anyway, the moment I saw that she was there I instantly wanted to leave. Besides her being a terrible person all the way through school (I can tell you stories, but that would be a digression from the truly heinous thing that she did at this party), she’s also one of those mothers who has to post exactly the right way to do things on FB. I mean, you just HAVE to have an all natural childbirth, and you HAVE to exclusively breast feed, and if you don’t have a midwife, well, clearly you are insane, and you know, if you don’t encapsulate your placenta then you’ll go crazy and murder people and stuff. I’m not saying that natural child birth, EBF, midwifes, and encapsulated placenta aren’t great. I would be just as annoyed if she was spouting the opposite side of things-because NO ONE has to do something like someone else. There is definitely a wrong way to do things, but having a c-section or an epidural is NOT wrong, using only doctors and not a midwife is NOT WRONG, using formula exclusively or mixing formula and breast feeding is NOT WRONG. That whole placenta thing is a personal choice. They’re all personal choices and no one, NO ONE needs to push people into things, especially on facebook. She is obsessed with her own point of view and with childbirth and getting pregnant. So needless to say, I dreaded seeing her. Dreaded it.

When I walked in she was already talking about her natural childbirth. She was drinking a white russian and announced to the bar that she would be “pumping and dumping” to which I wanted to say “NO ONE ASKED”. Then she went on to say that her next baby would be born at home in the bath tub. Again, I’m not trying to sound judgey. I don’t CARE how people have their children as long as it’s safe and everyone turns out okay, but at someone else’s WEDDING party we really don’t need to hear you shouting about placenta and PH test strips for breast milk.

And then, as I knew would happen, she turned to me and my husband and YELLED across the room full of my friends from high school, “So, when are YOU TWO going to get pregnant?!”

And guys, something in me sort of snapped at that point. I could have handled it the way I always do, but I said fuck no to that. She’s going to try and butt into our personal life? Well she’s going to get an earful. So I responded in this manner:

“Actually, we’ve been trying for almost two years. I have endometriosis and PCOS and had surgery this year. We don’t really know what our prognosis is, but it’s a pretty painful and emotional situation we’ve been having to deal with. We have hopes for the future, but are tempering them with the reality that it just might not happen for us.”

 

I didn’t say it in an angry way, or a sad way. Just a realistic, here’s what’s happening sort of way. And she basically shrugged, looked really embarrassed at her behavior, and turned away to talk to someone else. One of my friends who is a kind and caring person said, “Oh my, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were going through that” to which I responded, “Well, it’s pretty hard to tell everyone about it. No one wants to have to admit that they have a broken uterus” to which the terrible awful girl then turned around and said “Well, MY uterus certainly isn’t broken!”

I. AM. NOT. SHITTING. YOU.

My husband squeezed my arm and gave me a look that said “If I don’t walk out of this room right now I WILL punch her in the face”, so I patted him on the back and told him to get some air. I stayed and talked with the nice person who was HORRIFIED on my behalf. HORRIFIED. I was mad, I won’t shit you. But something I’m learning is that we can only control our own behavior, and you know what? I behaved like a fucking queen that night. I was gracious, and honest, and I’m not afraid to pat myself on the back for it. So there is your dose of personal growth for the week. I encourage all of you to do the same to those who might attack you for your uterine deficiencies, because it feels really good to see the smug look on their face be replaced with embarrasment. And all the shit we go through DOES  make us stronger than the average woman, so I’m done being ashamed of it. We are survivors just like anyone else. Don’t any of you EVER forget it.

Everything that’s ever happened happened in the past two weeks

That might be a slight exaggeration, but perhaps not.

So as you guys know, I got the assistant manager gig. HOORAH! Hard work and lots of school really DOES pay off at some point 😀

The transition hasn’t been the easiest. Some people have been resistant. At some point I might type a private post about that. You know how paranoid I am about internet spies. But at the end of the day I’m where I need and genuinely believe I deserve to be, and that’s what I keep telling myself.

Also, I have even more work to do than I did before. I’m not really losing any responsibilities as a programmer, I’m just gaining new responsibilities as a manager. Which is fine, staying busy makes the day go faster after all.

In IF updates, the update is that I have no updates. No Lupron side effects that I can notice. I’ve had some problems sleeping, but I can’t tell if that’s from stress or Lupron. The progesterone has been fine. My boobs have even stopped hurting. And I think my hair looks so much better, so I’ll miss that aspect of it. The bummer is that I get to have the shoot-dye-up-my-vagina test on Monday to see if my tubes have remained unblocked since the surgery. It seems soon since it’s only been two months, but this is what the doctor said to do, and far be it from me to disagree. I’m concerned about insurance paying for it, but they paid for it on my surgery day (I think) so I’m just going with it.

Speaking of my surgery, my anesthesiologist has billed me, my surgeon has billed me. You know who HASN’T billed me? The freaking hospital. And I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to remind them or anything. But it’s really weird. I haven’t even gotten notification from my insurance company that they’ve been billed, but I know they have been because the anesthesiologist only took half the deductible, which would mean if the hospital hadn’t billed I would have had to pay all the surgeon’s fee, and I only had to pay 20%. I’m on an 80/20 plan, which means that the hospital must have billed.

So why haven’t I gotten a bill? I payed a $300 down payment, but that shouldn’t have covered everything after deductible. I think I should owe another $400 or so.

Insurance is SOOO fun.

In fitness news, I’m down 45 pounds. It’s SOOOO slow now. So slow. But at least it’s still moving. I’ve started doing quarter mile sprints on the elliptical. They are HARD. But I think they’ll be worth it. Upping the intensity seems like the logical next step. My muscles are hurting, and last night I had one of those never ending dreams where I’m being chased. I keep thinking the two must be related :-/

I’ll update you guys after the super fun vagina-dye test. At least I’m getting an afternoon off out of the deal….

The Nervous Belly

So, without getting into too many details (because I’m convinced the internet is FILLED with spies), I have a nervous belly.

No, it’s not a pregnant nervous belly.

It’s a belly that is nervous because there is an opportunity in my workplace that I’m in the running for, and it would be a really good opportunity. A large and in charge opportunity. The kind of opportunity that if I don’t end up getting it, it’ll be time to look for other employment. I promise to be less vague in the future.

Anyway, my interview for the aforementioned opportunity is tomorrow. I know of at least one person who is having theirs RIGHT NOW. And this person has already beaten me out of one opportunity, so I’m nervous y’all. So at 11:00 am tomorrow (central time-do your adjustment as you will) please thrust your pelvis’ in my direction and send me all the good infertile lady blogger vibes. I NEED YOU.

In other news, I’ve had my first period since before the surgery. It wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. I had to take most of Thursday off for terrible cramps, but I took my first percocet since the day of the surgery on Thursday and I forgot how happy it makes me feel. I laid in my bed with my heating pad watching Big Bang Theory reruns and felt good about life. Then Chief drove me to work the next day so I could take the happy pills (because they make me dizzy-no driving for this girl on Percocet) and I was the nicest librarian in all the world. If I didn’t think they made me act stoned I would take one tomorrow at 10:45 am….

Anyway, the bleeding is tapering off and now allegedly I’m heading into the belly of the lupron beast. So far nothing too bad, but I’m withholding judgement for now.

Also, I started doing some strength training! And I ate more this week, because allegedly I could be not eating enough. You only have to tell me to eat more once, and I’ll do it. I’m still moderating carefully, but I allowed a few more splurges than I normally would. So I’m doing three 10 minute ab videos a week right now and three nights of arm workout thingies (yes, that is the technical terminology, thank you for asking). Kathy Smith does the ab workouts and she is a cruel taskmaster. I was pleased that I was able to do most of it, although I have to knock down the intensity on the planks. Hopefully that’ll change soon. I’m just 25 pounds from my goal. I’m now to the point of having far less to lose than I’ve already lost, and that feels really rewarding.

Too bad the last 25 won’t come off as easily as the first 25 did…

Think of me tomorrow Infertile Blogging Ladies. INFERTILES OF THE WORLD UNITE!

Lupron and Not Exploding

So I got my lupron shot last week. In fact, I got it last Wednesday, so it’s been exactly a week. Things have happened.

First of all, I most fortunately didn’t have to pay a dime for the shot because my doctors office just happened to have one on hand. Apparently someone was going to do two rounds of it and decided after the first three months not to, but their insurance had already paid for it AND you can’t return it, so I got it for freesies. I feel like there’s probably something somewhat shady about this whole deal, but I’m not questioning it. It could have cost a lot of money, and a lot of money I do not have, so that worked out well. The progesterone is just $10 a month and THAT I can afford.

Anyway, I got the shot last Wednesday and literally walked around all day expecting to transform into the incredible hulk or something. I kept fearing sudden and horrific side effects such as are described in the dark and deep depths of the internet, but I haven’t really had anything so far. I have had cramps, but I expected those. It’s part of the whole “it get’s worse before it get’s better” sort of thing. And I do feel sort of cranky a lot of the time and at least once I’ve had irrational anger, but that could just be me (let’s be honest with ourselves, I mean really).

I’m taking two chocolate calcium chews a day to help with the bone loss business, keeping up with my prenatals, and staying on weight watchers. Here’s the rub though. It’s been five weeks since my surgery and I’ve lost 1.5 pounds. I am seriously and majorly plateued. It is FRUSTRATING. I’m working out, I’m still eating right, I’ve become very rigorous about my measurements of food, but I seem to be stuck. The 1.5 pounds was from today’s weigh in, so I’m hoping I’ve had some sort of break through MAYBE, but otherwise I know it’s time to add in the dreaded weights.

I KNOW OKAY. I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING IT ALL THIS TIME. But guys, I hate it. I really hate it. It’s a complete mental thing I have with it. I feel like if I can work out sitting down (for the most part) then I’m not really working out. I used to sit and do arm weights on the couch and watch TV and it just felt like I wasn’t doing anything. Same with sit ups, I’d do them in the living room and feel silly. Also, I’d feel weak, because I have no muscles so all of this stuff is really hard (I KNOW-OKAY, I KNOW). But I have to get over it. I HAVE TO. I have a goal to reach and I’m not going to get there with cardio alone anymore (apparently). Punch me in the face, I hate strength training.

Also my boobs hurt, so that seems like a good enough reason to not do weights. But I know it’s not.

Poor Chief, I told him last night how much my boobs hurt and he said “I’m sure it’ll get better” and I said, “yeah, in three months” and he said “no, I’m sure it will be before then” and then I said “honey, it’s because of the progesterone. That I have to take for three months” and then he said “Oh” and had the saddest face in the entire world because he realized he would be getting no where near two of his favorite girls for the next 11 weeks.

Blessed are the weak limbed and sore breasted, for they shall inherit the heating pads.

Happy Wednesday Uterusly Challenged Friends.