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.
I had a major accomplishment this weekend. I have lost 50 pounds.
50 POUNDS. Putting me down to 159 (which still just feels so high, but I keep reminding myself that we are all shaped differently). I want to lose another 19 pounds. Getting down to 140 would be a dream for me. Here’s the thing:
I’m not getting any joy from working out anymore. I’m really, really struggling with it. Basically, I haven’t been in something like two weeks. Here is my list of excuses:
1. Work has been kicking my ass. I worked another 11.5 hour day on Monday because my boss was sick again
2. I’ve been working through sickness myself, meaning I am more tired after work than normal
3. Frankly, I’ve been a little depressed. I miss Chief like crazy because he’s always in class when I’m at home and I’m just goddamn lonely. I eat cereal at least two nights a week for dinner. When I come home all I want to do is take off my work clothes and crawl into bed and watch TV.
4. I’m pretty afraid of doing anything to mess up getting pregnant. I know that exercise is good for your health and therefore good for conception, but I like to really go after it when I work out, get my heart rate up to 180 and keep it there for thirty minutes. I know I should just go back to the gym and work out at a more moderate pace, but again, I’m struggling. I’m so afraid of messing up our shot of getting pregnant that I wont take any allergy medicine or cold medicine to deal with this little bug.
I’m still watching my WW points which is how I’ve still managed to lose a little. I’ve started a few thirty day fitness challenges at home (abs and arms for right now) so that I’m doing SOMETHING, but I know I need to get back into cardio. I’ve just really hit a wall emotionally and physically and I’m having a hard time moving past it. Part of it is that I’m fairly happy with where I am. 159 sounds high like I said, but I’m wearing a dress size 12 now and pants range anywhere from an 8 (Jennifer Lopez brand jeans run big) to a 14 (but the 14’s are practically falling off after wearing them for an hour). Tops are usually roomy larges. I haven’t started trying on mediums yet because I don’t want them to not fit and then get discouraged.
I’m not happy with my tummy. It’s too big and keeps me from wearing certain silhouettes. And besides wanting that to be better, I KNOW that I feel better when I work out. I should just go out to the living room and do some step aerobics right now. I would feel better about myself. I’m not spending enough time with our dogs (because that would require getting out of bed) so I know they feel neglected. I’m just sort of in a rough spot. Tonight is my last night of Prometrium. Could this be a really extended form of PMS?
Mostly, I just want my husband, but in January he gets switched to night shift at work and will be going to class in the morning, so it will be even worse than it is now and clearly I need to figure out a way to cope with being alone. I live sort of out of town so I never want to do anything with anyone after work because I need to come home and let our dogs out and, frankly, I just don’t want to do anything with anyone. What’s wrong with me?
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.