I.V.Effed: No Sex, No Lies, and No Videotape

There are some things I really need to get going on. 

1. I want to change the layout of the blog.  However, being that I am blognorant, I don’t know when and if I can get it done.  But I am feeling the pull of a newer look (after all, been at this bad boy for just over a year now….)

2. I want to post more (because you know, when I get all famous because my blog is the bestest blog in the history of all blogs and people are racing to read my blog-turned-book-bestseller, who wants it to drop off with the pregnancy?)  Ha. hahaha.

3. I want to start getting things “ready.”  After all…I’m only three weeks from being 30 weeks, which in my mind is like “yep, you’re getting there.”  So I want to start readying my life for the coming of a new little guy.  P is NOT ready–he told us yesterday that he wanted Baby Pablo to stay in my tummy ever ever.  He did not care when I told him that neither mommy nor baby pablo think this is a good idea.  So he needs to get ready emotionally, just as I need to get the house and all other baby things in order.

4. I want to start cooking again.  Real cooking, not the kind where grilling precooked sausage on the grill counts as cooking.  I mean, soups, casseroles, other tasty treats.  That has gone by the wayside this summer.

5. Um, those other four are a lot for right now.  There are, of course, about six thousand things that fit under #4, but no need to stress out naming them all right now.  I just want to really be embracing this thing that is causing nighttime pee-trips, backaches and stretch marks (only on my right ass cheek.  Nothing anywhere else.  Yet.)  I want to live in the moment–for who knows what the future brings?

This is all for now.  Short but sweet post.  Happy anniversary to me and T (six years), and happy anniversary, i-v-effed.  Will be back soon……..

2 Comments | In: August '10 | | #

and for the first time, I’m not feeling the funk of “shit, here comes winter, here I am, still trying to get pregnant, my favorite times of year have passed and now I have to be in winter, feeling just as crappy inside as the weather is outside.“   I definitely think I am a seasonal-affective-disorder person, and would probably benefit from one of those fake-sun-lamps in my living room.  Just to bask under in a swimsuit with a book come mid-January…

      but anyway.  24 weeks along yesterday–and had a little scare.  I was having braxton-hicks all morning, and they weren’t stopping.  We’re talking over a dozen in the span of two hours, and I started to freak out a little.  So I tried to go about my morning like all was fine (well, I watched PBS sprout with P and T in bed, drank gallons of water, and just relaxed as long as possible)…but then decided that I was being incredibly stupid if I didn’t take advantage of the fact that it was a Sunday, there was no need to drag P along with me anywhere…and only a doctor could really make me feel okay about everything.  Thus, I found myself reclining in a comfy hospital bed in Labor and Delivery (helllooo, reallynicehospitalIamgoingtobedeliveringat!) for four hours, being monitored, internally examined, cultured, etc.  The monitors were definitely noting the contracting, but after a good while they subsided, picked up again an hour or so later, and then subsided again.  The exam noted a closed cervix, and all cultures came back negative.  My prescription?  Pelvic rest, lots of water, and rest.  As soon as I heard the cervix was closed I about jumped for joy.  Diagnosis?  Nada.   But haven’t had more than one or two since I came back home yesterday around 3.

         24 weeks was a little early to be thinking of bringing home Baby Pablo (or Baby Tyrone, depending on which Bac.kyardi.gan P feels like naming him after on any given day).  I am glad he is staying put.

I also think I’m going to try to be a More Active Blogger.  So what if my situation has changed?  I am still an IVF vet.  It still plays into my life–and though I do not need it as the crutch I needed to get through a very dark time, I could certainly benefit from some more reflection in my life right now.  I had a few moments this weekend to go for a solo walk, and I found myself thinking about how incredibly different my mindset is now than it was a year ago.  It is amazing how I can feel such peace and happiness and wholeness by having this little guy growing inside of me–compared to when I didn’t, when I never thought I would know that feeling again, when I thought I had done something that the universe was punishing me for…it is like every cliche in the book.  The darkness lifted.  The sadness became a memory, a part of me that will always be, but doesn’t define me anymore (I always felt like people could LOOK at me and detect the sadness and pain).  As someone who has also lived with an eating disorder, I often felt like THAT too defined me.  And after some time, I learned for myself that I wasn’t defined by that, it was just a really hard thing that was part of me, but wasn’t ALL of me.  I think I can now see infertility as the same thing.  When we are in the worst worst worst part of it, it is all that we are, it consumes us (similar to the e.d.).  But once we have emerged from the darkest part–it is still always there, it still comes into our life in some way every day…but it isn’t our only “thing.”  This all may sound like a pretty banal revelation–but to me…it was a hell of a big one.

4 Comments | In: August '10 | | #

It’s a boy.  He’s healthy.  Measuring big(gish).  I’m thrilled… All parts are where they should be and everything looks to be in working order.  I then told two good (but far away) friends that I am pregnant.  Kind of weird to just say it now…and slowly, I guess, I feel more comfortable sharing the news.  I will be seeing them in two weeks anyway, so thought I should give some notice.  Still, I’d say about 75% of “my people” are in the dark.

Right now, I am the happy little pregnant person that I love to hate while undergoing failed cycle after failed cycle.  I look pregnant.  I feel happy and right and good.  I am even so stupid as to sometimes forget about the possibility of something going wrong in the next 20 weeks–and already, I am mulling over names with T.  I waver still between wanting to be so happy and live life like it is meant to be lived–and the caution that I want to throw to the wind, but remember that maybe I shouldn’t.

I also happily accepted a new role as Godmom the other week.  I’ve never been anything so special to anyone before–and though sometimes it doesn’t mean anything, to me it means a lot.  My godmother played a huge and important role in my life growing up, and still does.  I sometimes smile for no reason lately.  (also, sometimes I cry and get angry and sad for no reason–but that was always the norm.  the extra bit of happiness that comes around these days is definitely new).

I sit and think about last year this time (failed FET), last August, last September, last December….and right now, it looks like the months won’t be the same this year as they were last year (fail, cancel, fail).  I just think about how it is so damn GOOD and was once so damn BAD.  Really, I am hateable.  Well, except for those who live with me or interact with me regularly.  For them, they are probably so relieved I’m no longer Angry Bitter C.  I have it all right now.  A great husband, good friends and family, a wonderful little son, a son on the way…I.have.it.all.  Dammit that I didn’t come here the way I wanted to–and it may not stay this way–but for right now, for this very little fleeting moment in time, I have it all.

I still don’t know where to take this blog from here–it isnt the appropriate place to chat about pregnancy (and really, I don’t chat about it.  Well, there are two friends who are also currently pregnant and I talk to them about stuff.  Otherwise, I’m pretty mute about it all).  But it is another hundred bucks or so to keep this site for next year….and then what?  I know that if we have a healthy baby we will surely be doing this again….we have enough embryos on ice to play a five-on-five basketball game.  And I know by now that it would be work to do it again–taxing and anger-inducing and blah blah blah.  So maybe if we do ever get there, I’d need this again.  Because truly, this has been my lifeline for the past 11 months.  I would not have made it through the darkest points without it, and those who read and reach out.  I just don’t know.  I have another five weeks until renewal date for my domain–so I guess I’ll wait and see.

7 Comments | In: July 10 | | #

It’s kind of weird for me to be writing about being pregnant on the site where I have only until March 15 been writing about not being pregnant.  Obviously I wish I didn’t have to keep the blog so infertility-focused for the length of time I did…but whatever.  I swear, it seems like water under the bridge now.  Of course it would be great if I had never gone through all I did the past few years–and I only started the blog in the middle of the mess.  But now, while pregnant, I find myself thinking of the NEXT baby–you know, when we try again with medical help for two years straight to have another child.  Damn girl, you’re not even halfway through this one (17.5 weeks though) and already looking ahead, thinking,  yep, might try again if this one is a keeper.  I have the amazing talent of “forgetting” really shitty things–I mean, I don’t hang onto the complete shittiness of them all–and some, I block out altogether.  So that aids in my ability to just think about myself as just another pregnant mom of a 2.5 year old, going about my business right now.  Today, I write today on a day when I am feeling blessed and happy and blissful.  In less than three weeks I find out if this baby is a girl or a boy.  That will open a torrent of other emotions–if it is a girl, I may explode.  I am so petrified petrified petrified of raising a little girl.  Not just in “today’s world”, but in my own HOME.  I had a damn good relationship with my parents and still do–but there are parts of that relationship that led me to some unhealthy life behaviors for a long time (haven’t come out of the closet yet on this one–but had, for many years, a few variations of eating disorders.  Denied it, sought help, didn’t recover, denied it, denied it, sought help…and will always be “recovering”).  I have never had a very positive self image, my self esteem has never been all that it should be as a woman in her early thirties–and so while I have gone to therapy, worked through some problems, come to terms with myself–I still worry about the havoc my person could wreak on a girl.  (I am pretty sure my therapy will have to pick up again, to make sure I don’t project any of my insecurities on my little girl).  A boy–I can do it.  P is a pretty great kid, and I think I could raise another great kid.  Girl=Scardy C.   However, I would of course rather work through the terror of raising a girl than not raising anything at all. 

time will tell.  but my money is on girl.

2 Comments | In: June '10 | | #

14w 1d today.  Second trimester arrived.  Had a short little appt, where they did blood pressure, weight, pee-check, and heartbeat-listen-to.  Heartbeat is a strong 168.  The dr seems to think I am a regular pregnant person.  Fool.  Inside, I am screaming something else.  Well, I go between that scream and the blissful daydreams of a crossover vehicle to purchase, thinking of boy names or using our bestest favest girl name.  And yes, I am still scared.  But not as scared as I was when I was in the earlier weeks.  Or when I was not pregnant.  Because every single infertile person knows they hit that point where the once possible is now seen as impossible.  Yet I am the annoying cliche that I always wanted to be–I had filled out all the adoption paperwork, wrote my 8 page autobiography, and had contacted references four days before my positive pregnancy test.  I will never ever tell anyone outside of this world that story, though–no need to add fuel to the ridiculous fire of “just adopt and you’ll get pregnant.”  There’s enough of that moronic advice swirling about out there already!

I am really beginning to think I am going to have a baby in November.  IF never ever ever goes away and losses and failures shape your future experiences for sure, but things DO get put on hold for a little once pregnancy sets in.  I mean, I no longer sit and cry about what if I NEVER get pregnant (of course, I sit and worry about losing this baby and then what…) but I would be lying if I said that I feel exactly the same as I did when I was not pregnant.

I still listen to the heartbeat every night.  I still protectively cover my abdomen, from what, I don’t know.  I still worry about telling people.  I am going to take it slow–and not reach out to share the news (Hey! Its me! I’m Pregnant!  I’m Thrilled! Its so unexPECted! gush gush, gush gush…).  Instead, as it comes up, I’ll share.  How amazing would it be if I found the nerve to FB that “after 18 solid months of medical intervention, 5 failed IVFs, one failed IUI, one turn in the ICU, two units of blood transfused, two losses….I am cautiously expecting.”  But I will never ever write that because 1)I don’t think FB is a place for uterine updates 2)once it is out there it can’t ever come back and who the hell would want to have to recant that statement ever, and 3)I may be an over-sharer, but not that much.  I think I’d rather people find out via my Christmas card, rather than a post on a friend/acquaintance networking site.   But just sometimes.  Sometimes I want the world to be aware of the struggles some of us go through.  And how freaking lucky I am right now to have made it this far.

5 Comments | In: May 10 | | #

I seemed to remember my NT scan with P taking a lot longer…maybe it was walking between lab and OB area of the hospital or something…but this was done right in my office.  I waited for about an hour and 10 minutes for a “test” that lasted all of 12.  But it seems my risk looks low, and the bean has grown appropriately over the last month since my last ultrasound–measures right on target, 12w 1-2 days.  I asked the doctor to tell me the heartrate, explaining that it seemed rather high on the at-home doppler I used…and instead of just measuring and calming me, he launched into a tirade about the dopplers causing a false sense of security, etc.  He then told me a “true story” that happened to one of his patients last year–she wasn’t feeling the baby move, she felt something was off, but she used her at home doppler and could still hear the heartbeat.  She was 34 weeks.  Turns out something was wrong, the baby was already brain dead by the time she sought medical attention, the baby was born, lived a month, then died.  So this is why I shouldn’t use a doppler.

Ummm….okay.  Thanks.  Thanks for following a neat experience of seeing the bean (ok, the “large” lime) up on the huge tv screen on the wall and hearing you tell me the preliminary measurements look good–and then you end with this comforting tale.  He did tell me that “normal” heartrates range from 120 to 180 (hello, giantest range ever), and that My Large Lime was beating at 179bpm.  I guess I should be relieved that he didn’t jump out of his chair at this point with dire worry–but he also did not say a THING to make me believe that it is okay to be on the border of high-normal.  Thus, instead of leaving and staring lovingly at the picture, I left horrified that something like that story could happen.  Sheesh.  I hope if I make it to delivery, this doctor does NOT stand below me with a clear plastic visor and some rubber gloves…

If the old wives tale is true–fast hb, bad complexion (can anyone say “Pepperoni Pizzalike Chin?”) and more nausea than last time…then maybe this is a girl.  Seems the way the family dynamics have headed this year, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

Next appointment:  14 weeks.  Sure it will just be a weight/hb check.  Hopefully, I will have used the facilities by then.  I swear.  I think I was up so many pounds since the 12 week because I haven’t used the bathroom in DAYS.  And it ain’t like I ain’t eating…lordy.  It is FULL in there. 

My mom asked me if it feels more real yet.  I told her…maybe by November?

In non-related news: we went to our first movie together since…The Pursu.it of Ha.ppy.ness was in theaters.  Yep.  We’re a fun duo.  Anyway.  We saw Ci.ty Isl.and.  Maybe it’s being a New Yawker, or maybe because it had NOTHING to do with pregnancy or little babies–but actually, I think it was just a good good movie.  And it was short-ish.  I have the attention span of an 8 year old boy…so the 1hr40min lengthtime was perfect for me.

But…when did the price go up to 11 bucks a ticket?  Oh…right…probably in the last FOUR YEARS.

1 Comment | In: May 10 | | #

I posted a brief update yesterday, along with some thoughts I had about moving forward in this pregnancy.  And then I lay (layed?  laid?) awake half the night in a panic over it all, because I was basically acknowledging I think this pregnancy is going forward…and that scared the crap out of me.  I began to panic that holy shit, if I do that, and on Monday they find something wrong, I have to un-acknowledge.  I would have come and deleted it overnight save for my ridiculous stomach pains (pregnancy induced?  e coli induced?  (yep–breakout in the region.  And I have had lettuce recently…) panic induced?)  So I delete it now, gone from the world, save for my mind.  And now I can’t forget it.  Stupid me–getting a bit comfortable and confident.  Why do I think this is going to be a good, safe thing?  What proof or reassurance do I have of this????

Now I can safely continue to obssess over what I think is a too-fast heartbeat for how far along I am (still banging out 175-180.  And I’m 12 weeks tomorrow.  Can’t be good, can it…), what they will find on Monday, how I will handle yet another appointment alone as our sitters are busy and T did not feel like asking his Dad to come help out for some reason…so I’ll be there alone.  Again.  And scared.  Argh…………

2 Comments | In: May 10 | | #

And still pregnant.  After last Friday’s panic-induced-ultrasound, it was a quick visit today, with just a step on the scale (um, hi six pounds since starting stims), a short chat with the dr, and then a challenging (yet successful) hearing of the hb via dopper.  Apparently I have some majorly strong veins thumping down there, and my racing pulse was drowning out the baby…but it eventually measured at 165, and I was sort-of able to make out the sound myself.

According to the doctor, my chance for miscarriage now is the same as the rest of the gen pub–less than 3%.  Still too high to let me rest easy, but that’s life. Buh-bye, progest shots as well.  We had a ceremonial trashing of the gross blood-dotted heating pad late this afternoon.  Nuchal scan is scheduled for 13 days from now (who’s counting?) on May 10th.  I’ll be 12w1d.  After that appointment–I will feel a lot better if all is well (ok. Noticing a pattern of my saying this with each appointment…).  But really, if I make it through the NT staying pregnant…then it is only another week and half until the end of the first tri…and then…well…I may think of this as my actual little baby.

If that time comes to be, I’ll have to take some surveys about who gives an Eff about my story once I am clearly pregnant…and what to do about the blog.  I mean, I clearly have still been effed by IVF…but not in the present, just the past, I guess.  So do I keep it up then?  Luckily, I have a few more weeks of being in the unsafe zone to keep humoring you all with my quirks, worries, and general overal insanity.

A general blogging question: Any other bloggers out there get some ridiculous amounts of spam comments that SEEM like real comments?  They are completely about the posts, etc…but there have been TONS and all from weird addresses like Tom23@ something or Joe42@ something…yep, all men…and when you click on the website they allegedly connect to, it’s not a developed site.  Any help out there, bloggers?  Where they are coming from and how can I catch it in my spam-catcher?  It’s annoying because I get all excited that so many many people care about my tale, only to be duped…I mean, how many men are really reading this and empathizing?

5 Comments | In: April | | #

Apparently, a week and a half is all my body can sustain its peace and positivity for.  Right now, with the 10-week mark looming ahead on Sunday, I am a wreck.  My nausea has almost completely subsided, I don’t have any cramping, and (I know I know I KNOW) I bought a cheapish fetal doppler and can’t find the heartbeat down there. (I can, however, hear my own, hear my dinner from last night, and probably four nights ago as well…you see, I am on the smaller side, thus figuring I should be hearing the heartbeat by now–two people on the ama.zon reviews heard it by now….whine, whine whine…)

I anticipate the worst right now while also secretly hoping that by expecting the worst I will be redeemed and given good news… Come Tuesday, I have visions of walking into the dr’s office, saying, “I expect you to be giving me bad news.”  I also have had horrible horrible visions of going into the bathroom and things just gushing down.  I do not like this feeling–I need to find myself an OB to move into my spare room to give me peace of mind for the next four days.  Four days!  Sounds like nothing…sounds like everything.  T said, “So nothing has happened to make you think you lost the baby, save less symptoms, you just think that” (he does sort of understand, by the way, it just doesn’t come across that way in print).  I said “correct.”  The unspoken between us, of course, is that nothing happened the last time.  No cramps, no blood, nothing (just a loss of symptoms).  And then they were gone. 

How will I make it until then?  We planned to look at cars this weekend…I planned to get some things from Targ.et for storage solutions (nesting?  or just irreverent spending?) but really, I just want to crawl into my bed, take some of the anesthesia they give you before the ER, and pass out until Tuesday, 1pm (appointment is at 2.  But I’d probably be a bit groggy right away…)

UPDATE:  Crazy C gave in to Calm C, and called the office this afternoon.  Of course, I called four minutes after P went down for his nap.  They told me they could see me in 45 minutes, but had nothing else today or tomorrow.  After some advice from the trusted M and J…decided to get the answers I needed and risk a cranky 2.5 year old (incidentally, today is his Half Birthday–ice cream cake and small gifts to come tonight…) and woke him, popped him in the car, and drove up to the office.  I waited for I don’t know, FIVE MINUTES?? in the busy waiting room, and then went on back.  Dr C couldn’t find the hb on the doppler after trying for about five seconds, then went to get the portable external ultrasound machine, and eureka!  Bean is still alive!  Heart was beating, little arms were waving around…I didn’t push my luck and ask for heartrate or measurements…after all, I am back there on Tuesday.  I did, however, hug my doctor.  A first for me–someone who has been to all kinds of medical professionals.

Completely worth the piece of mind.  And I really didn’t even feel that ridiculous–what a great doctor to make me feel like the sanest person alive.  Now P is napping for a mini-nap (I think…).  I promised that if all was ok with this, I would not go back to Tar.get and ask where the Eff were the three other items on my receipt that weren’t in any of my bags…Yep, a $12 bargain with the powers that be. 

2 Comments | In: April | | #

Today was the first OB ultrasound and appointment.  They were very accomodating when I explained that I really didn’t want to wait until the 10 week mark when I had called initially (throw out the phrases “missed miscarriage of twins” “almost three weeks not knowing”, and an OBs office must feel obliged to accomodate.)  Anyway.  I went in to the room by myself today (P and T stayed out in the waiting room at the request of the tech, but also, I think, it was what T was planning on doing anyway.  He was nervous as heck too, and probably didn’t want to be back in that room, reliving those memories…and P provides a nice distraction).

I started to say a Hail Mary as I waited for the tech to find what she wanted to see before she turned on the overhead ginormous screen…and I don’t believe I got in more than two or three lines til she hit the remote, and there was the bean.  She did not want any questions, so I just watched and stared until I was certain I saw the quick flitting of the heartbeat.  She measured some things, checked out other parts in there, and then called T and P in to show them via an outside scan the growing bean up on the screen.  Relief.  Relief relief relief.

After a brief hour wait, I met with the doctor (not my actual OB–he was booked) and she was wonderful.  She understood my fears, listened to me, and said to make an appointment to come back in 2 weeks.  Thanks Be to G, no making me wait the ridiculous length of time of 3 or 4 weeks to see my bean again.  I do feel so much more relaxed right now…though of course, that feeling in of itself is making me feel un-relaxed…

The stats:  All parts of bean are accounted for.  Measures 8w3d, and has a heartbeat of 175.  Can’t ask for more than Everything Looking Right (ok, I can ask for everything remaining right….continuing right…)  The doctor again reminded me that the percentage of miscarriages in the first tri is 15%…and that the odds of miscarriage drop to 5% after seeing a strong heartbeat.  (I asked my math whiz husband what that translates into…he said 1 in 20.  Shit, that seems really freaking high, I said.  Then he said, I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 20.  What is it?  I replied, 7.  He said, Nope.  14.  I then asked if 7 being a multiple of 14 meant anything.  He gave me the stink eye.)

So I head back two weeks from today.  Am I still nervous?  You bet.  Am I afraid of being too confident and comfortable?  Check.  Although, here are some interesting tidbits…my due date is the same day as a huge football game here at Yankee Stadium this fall–my Alma Mater v. Army.  Hmm.  Prob won’t be tailgating at that one (IhopeIhopeIhopeIhope).  Also, best pal from college…due the week before me with her second (don’t worry, M–no one else who knows you reads this!).  How fun to raise a baby born so close to each other…

So please.  Please God, let this be the one for us.  Let this be our child, not just our hope or our dream.  It is amazing that after all of the limbos we IFers find ourself in–before the cycle, while cycling, retrieval, grow-time, transfer, 2WW, beta one, beta two, beta three, ultrasound one, ultrasound 2, ultrasound 3–we never really seem to leave limbo behind.

5 Comments | In: April | | #