beta updates and Happy New Year!

saturday (done behind "new Re dr d's" back - so sneaky) 833
monday (today) 1529

we're doubling people! (or close to it.) we are far from being "out of the woods" but I'm feeling a little more joy and and little less terrified. VERY little less.

I spoke with a nurse about the low numbers. "are you at all concerned?" I asked. voice and hands shaking. a giant piece of toblerone in my mouth.

"no. not at all. no more b/w for you. we'll see you on thursday for an u/s."

"new RE dr d " will be back from holiday by then. FINALLY I can speak with my doctor instead of getting all my information from google MD and nurse yahoo.

no fun

I'm sorry I haven't posted in such a long time. I've been in beta hell. I am still there actually and it sucks bad.

thanks everyone for the kind words, congrats and well wishes posted here and privately through email. you guys are the best!

beta hell journey started over the holidays. I waited 6 loooong days for beta #2 and it was torture. it was ridiculously hard to enjoy christmas knowing my 1st beta was low and I had to wait (forever) for the next blood draw. well, it came back yesterday (20dpo) at a sluggish 424. the IVF nurse is concerned but not overly concerned. what does that mean exactly? she wishes it was in the 500 range. she said to come into the city for b/w on saturday -- no more OOT labs. crap! 2 more days of waiting. an hour later she called back "come in on monday. I forgot. we are closed this weekend." are you kidding me?! 4 MORE days of living in this terrible limbo. it's just not right!

I have spent every waking moment scouring every possible beta hcg website I could google. I've read every post on every beta message board... twice. I did every doubling calculator I stumbled upon. they've been pretty consistent. they've been consistently discouraging.

doubling time = 2.27 days (or 54 hours)
daily rate increase 36%
2 day rate increase 84 %
total increase 524%

I don't know what to make of these numbers really. I just know at 20dpo the number should be much higher.

what's really painful is that I was only able to enjoy a much anticipated BFP for about 5 minutes. I'm trying, with all my might, to stay on a positive track -- consciously optimistic, and it's INCREDIBLY HARD dammit it!

I beg you! please, PLEASE stay little one! I promise to make it worth your while!

11dp3dt

drum roll please...




beta number 1...




68!




cornell called and said "congratulations! you're pregnant!" it's official!!!!! I'm PREGNANT!!!!! (can I say that out loud now?)

talk about a christmas miracle!

10dp3dt

2 LINES! 2 LINES! never in my life have I seen 2 such glorious lines!!!!! FRER, I love you! dr davis and cornell, I love you more!

beta tomorrow.

6dp3dt

I can't stand this torture of waiting, especially now. it's christmas! I have a ton to do, a big job going on AND I am consciously trying to take it easy. but maybe all this laying low is a waste of energy (or lack of.) do I sit tight and hope for the best or say fuck it and plow forward and live my life as usual -- as a "normal" person. I don't feel very optimistic about this cycle anyway. how could I with what we experienced on transfer day? that's 2 freak car accidents in 1 month. don't forget the death of my little chilli. AND the financial stresses of all of this are really hitting hard. b has been in a state -- a total funk -- and it's making me weary. I need his support, not his depressed mood swings. yes, this IVF has been particularly rough since day one. cd 1. but this cycle, in actuality, has been going on for a year now and I'm TIRED. tired of it all! the struggles and disappointments. this constant holding of my breath... and waiting.

dr suess

for the last 3 days I have witnessed and suffered through a terrible crime. the rundown and neglected apartment complex next door made the selfish decision to chop down all these beautiful, majestic and perfectly healthy trees. a total massacre.

the fatso super was in his glory. this is a man that for hours on end would use one of those obnoxious leaf blowers. the noise was so loud I couldn't speak with my clients in my office. he would blow the leaves CONSTANTLY but never pick them up. that's brilliant.

his solution was to simply destroy and chop up the problem. his lazy ass can now get fatter because the land is barren. one tree in particular was full of active bird feeders. it was also shelter for a very sweet feral cat that called the tree "home."

in this day and age with the destruction of our environment this egocentric act was completely irresponsible. yes, the trees lived on his property and he can do what he pleases. but these healthy trees helped everyone's air quality, not just his own. his raking and aimlessly blowing days are over now. the leaves that are so spectacular each fall here in new england are history. the same leaves that helped the air his own children (I guess this means he's fertile) happen to breath. here's another shining example of this "me, me, me" mentality that is so prevalent now. this type of thinking makes me insane!

I find that people seem to react only when something effects them personally. the big picture is not their concern. I continue to find large amounts of cardboard, plastic bottles, glass and cans in the dumpster. when we finally reach a crisis situation then maybe my neighbors will consider recycling. until then, the issues destroying our earth -- their children's future -- are "not their problem."

"I am the lorax. I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues."

bedrest

short and sweet. it's very difficult typing with one hand and flat on my back. we (actually dr s - I love him) transfered 3 embryos yesterday.

"they're a good group! they look real nice!"

this happened post 5 car accident in front of the hospital. yes, my car was one of the innocent victims, AGAIN! slammed front and back by 2 giant suvs. fucking idiotic driver. what's wrong with you?

"you better have fucking good insurance." and I walked into the hospital for my IVF transfer, trying desperately to be calm and hoping we had a way to get home.

ER

it was a very, VERY long day. there were 15 of us on the ER schedule. 15 of us plus husbands/partners and a few scattered parental bodies -- and about 20 chairs. I went in with 4 strong follicles with 2-3 that had potential. dr c assured me the 2-3 would be part of the ER. well, dr g just went for the 4 and "called it a day." 4 follicles = 4 eggs.

the whole experience was considerably rougher this time. coming out of anesthesia was much slower and the cramping and bloating was pretty intense. for whatever reason I didn't have those issues last retrieval. b and I had some comforting hot soup before heading back to new haven. before the nightmare began. what took us 1 hour and 15 minutes at 5 am took us 5 1/2 almost 6 hours mid afternoon (in holiday/rush hour traffic with about 17 snowflakes.) 5-10 miles an hour on the merritt parkway the ENTIRE trip. no tylenol. I felt like crap. I wanted to beat the hell out of b just because I was so frustrated, uncomfortable and annoyed. poor b, don't take it personally. I longed to be resting flat on my back in bed.

all 4 eggs were mature. all fertilized with ICSI. 24 hours later we have 3 embryos hopefully dividing and thriving in my own fluids (thank you coculture!) ET is 2:45 monday. I have acupuncture scheduled for pre and post transfer. these little ones need all the help they can get.

cd 14 - trigger time

"ooooh. your lining is beautiful! perfect." dr c said today.

"that's the nicest thing anyone has said to me all week."

we've got 2 nice follicles on the right and 2 really nice (and 3 kinda nice) on the left. there is still time for a little growth to happen. I've never had such enthusiasm over my ovaries. my tired, old, and uncooperative ovaries. HCG tonight at 1:35 am.

ER is scheduled for friday. fingers crossed!

cd 12

2 (possibly 3) follicles on my left. 2 on my right. this sucks BAD because I had 5 (possibly 6) just yesterday. sorry for the lack of posts and/or comments. I am just not feeling well at all this cycle. b woke up at 4 am with me yesterday and got to experience the joy and excitement of my sunrise monitoring journey. he looked exhausted by mid afternoon (we got home at 1 pm) even though my appointment lasted only 1 hour -- he had it easy. we were in bed (don't laugh) by 8:30. how pathetic are we?! "new RE dr d" did my monitoring this morning. I practically squealed with joy when I saw him in the hallway. I haven't seen him this entire cycle but I know he's there, behind the curtain, making all the important decisions and calling the shots. oh yes, I blame him for my very bruised, bloated, and raw belly. I was told there was "a method to his madness." we can only hope.

"it's a go." were the last words he said to me as he left the examination room, all festive in his christmas tie. he smiled, and was gone.

ER is scheduled for thursday, maybe friday. come on little follies! there's time to catch up!

cd 9

3 follicles on my left side. that's it. I'm so upset right now I can't stand it.

cd 7

oh, the pain. the pain of traveling to nyc for sunrise monitoring. between the sleepless nights (full of intense night sweats and wet pajamas) the hardcore (borderline overdose) meds, the 4 am alarm, and 4 hours on a rickety old (and very packed) train, I'm TIRED! I was in the city 2 days ago for a 5 minute b/w appointment. ugh. I was there again today for b/w and an u/s. the RE said there is a good chance I'll have to trek into the city every other day from now on. AND this is a LONG-ass protocol! then we move onto daily sunrise monitoring. when am I going to find time to get my work done? work necessary to pay for this IVF decadence? co-culture, ICSI, and AH - all 100% out of pocket. $5250 more!

a fellow poor responder cornell IVFer just went through ER and got 11 eggs! fantastic! 10 were mature and fertilized with ICSI. I'm so happy for her. I am doing the same exact protocol. I can only dream of numbers like that.

let's go "new RE dr d"! do your stuff! perform your magic! grow follies, grow!

"the" call came in

4:08 pm.

"ladies! (in my case, lady) start your stims!"

oh my. this is it. I begin with the micro-dose lupron tonight and then tomorrow EXTREME Injection 2007 officially starts. 5 shots a day. five. FIVE! ef, eye, vee, ee. I am on a long stim protocol which could carry on for 12 days. if you do the math, that's 60 shots in under 2 weeks. (and this doesn't even include HSG.) it's a good thing I'm sporting a giant belly from all the mashed potatoes, stuffing, tofurky and pecan pie I devoured yesterday.

today's clinic celebrity sighting was kate spade. earlier in the week it was mariska hargitay. it's the IVF version of entertainment tonight.

I draw pictures for a living

a little history.

a few years ago a fellow graphic designer lectured me on my lack of self promotion. I had a little down time and agreed to submit a few logos into design competitions. low and behold, some of my work was chosen and acknowledged in respected annuals. cool.

of course the work I labor over and am most proud of never gets chosen. one logo in particular is now in 2 annuals (one being graphis - the gold standard in the design industry.) I consider the piece "ok" and borderline mediocre. whatever. it's subjective.

this summer I got an email from graphis congratulating me for being considered for the Logo Design 7 publication. supposedly the book showcases the best global logos of the past 5 years. holy crap! I was being considered! that was VERY cool!

I mentioned this story to my sisters one night while drinking some wine. (this is what we do. drink wine. we do it well.) I had my laptop with me and showed them this logo that was (for whatever reason) sweeping though the design world. J looked at the screen for a moment. she looked harder and then appeared perplexed. I saw her studying it. that's when it hit me. the typo.

as a designer, you sometimes get too close to your work. letter forms turn into positive and negative shapes that have to be dealt with visually. their "meaning" becomes meaningless. I spelled a word completely wrong in the logo and NOBODY noticed until now. it's been published twice. it's on t-shirts. there's a website. there are business cards floating around. shit!

after pointing out this ridiculous mistake I cried and laughed simultaneously. literally. soooo many people had looked at this so how is it possible nobody caught it?! of course I am responsible but I was floored that it got this far. and why did it take an intoxicated individual to notice the extra letter? interesting.

yesterday I had to return the crappy rental car. because of thanksgiving my car won't be ready until mid to late next week. to help me out, the subaru place was kind enough to give me a loaner for the time being. they are good people over there.

the car is a 2008 impreza with 2700 miles on it. it is actually quite cute except that it's... GOLD! who the hell makes gold cars these days?

the point of my post? the day I got the gold car my typographically incorrect logo won a gold medal. a moment that should have been glorious and joyful was full-on panic and full of dread. I felt like I was caught in a lie. a lie that was snowballing as we speak. who would have thought my design would (or could) get to this level - graphis Logo Design 7.

today was the day to fess up. to come clean. to admit globally that I am a shitty speller (and an even more terrible proofreader.) I called graphis and explained my problem begging them to let me resubmit a "revised," I mean, correct version. I was shaking and sweating out of total embarrassment. the book is in its second round of proofing and they will "see what they can do."

it's a funny thing. I just now got an email reply saying I sent the same exact logo. ummm, no I didn't. this time, you're wrong.

sad news

over here in the constitution state. my friend EP (a fellow IVF veteran and very talented knitter) got really terrible news en route to her ET. please go over and give her some much needed support.

thanks.

the good. the bad. the hideously ugly.

the good.
ahhhhhh. nyc. it felt good to be back. home again. everything was familiar, comforting, and just as I left it (with the exception of a new and underdesigned high rise on every other street corner.) even staying in the heart of times square (not my choice) was totally fine. I was thrilled to be stopped on 57th street by a flustered tourist "excuse me. where is the bloomingdales?" after leaving gramercy and moving deep into the heart of suburbia, I was still a "new yorker."

that night b and I had a fantastic date. we started out at the tiny jazz bar where we had our very first date. sadly it was no longer "our spot." what had once been dark and dingy and full of character was now all shiny and tidy. there was no jazz trio and the cocktails cost a fortune. we reminisced about our first encounter. it's funny. neither of us recall talking about my egg quality or the threat of sperm fragmentation. my, my. how our relationship has evolved.

the bad.
the next morning I experienced the marathon blood draw. after approving the spelling of my long, complicated, hyphenated name and DOB on the small paper label, the nurse proceeded to print out at least a dozen more. she then lined up all the empty vials before draining my body entirely of blood. it was freaky to watch. the whole thing made me woozy.

that evening we met up with a bunch of friends at a favorite "old school" bar. it was great to see so many familiar faces and I felt so happy. I chatted with everyone more this one night than I did my entire wedding weekend. these were good friends. friends with a long history. it was good to be back home. (and it didn't really matter that b's friend was a spitting image of my ex - an old boyfriend that used to be a part of this group.)

the hideously ugly.
7 am. the phone rings. "there has been accident in parking garage. a pipe (turns out to be CONCRETE) fell on car." fuck. I needed to give the attendant permission to replace some glass. I was assured the job would be finished later that day. yeah, right. I got dressed and raced off to my dreaded co-culture appointment. I took the handful of advil prescribed for pain and 2 benadryl to calm my nerves. I had no luck in tracking down any valium and I needed a little extra something. the pills didn't make me relaxed, they made me stupid!

on the examination table I struggled with my crossword.
2 down.
a four letter word.
"letterman's rival." duh! I couldn't figure it out. my brain had disintegrated.

the co-culture sucked. and hurt! the tools they used caused major cramping and the scraping of my uterus was no picnic. "I'm going to try to be as gentle as possible." yikes! the pain literally took my breath away. yes, it didn't last very long but I actually felt it in my chest. I winced and felt sick to my stomach for those few moments. when you are in pain you really have no sense of time.

the parking garage vs. subaru drama only escalated as the day went on (and will no doubt continue for some time.) it involved numerous attendant lies, bouts of screaming, 2 separate visits from the NYPD, and ultimately, a missing car with no rear window and a collection of new scrapes and dents. then you add annoyed insurance agents, estimates, deductibles, a "subaru-qualified" repair shop, and a rental car, and you get a guaranteed emotional breakdown. 12 hours of total hell. I was looking for all the hidden cameras. alan funt or possibly ashton kutcher. it must be. it had to be! "smile, you're on candid camera." this was all too fucking unbelievable.

incredibly unbelievable until I realized that my idiotic IVF nurse neglected to call in half of my meds. the medication required to start my cycle today! how could this happen?! after frantic phone calls to the pharmacy and to my RE (and a few tears and $270 on my amex) we got things "sorted out."

tonight. sunday, 18 november 07, 7 pm, we start this IVF thing all over again. oh boy.

bags are packed

hotel is reserved. our miss lulu has lovely accommodations arranged. she's staying with good friends in "the country" that adore her. it will be healthy for the little frenchie to be in a different environment for a bit. she really seems to feeling chilli's loss. she's forever looking for him.

we are off to nyc! my old hood! tomorrow is the extreme blood draw. yikes. then thursday, 10:45 am, I'll have the dreaded (yet highly desired) co-culture procedure. then in a few days (hopefully, fingers crossed) I'll start the patches - the official start of IVF number four. who would have thought? god help me.

the results








are








in.























we got ourselves a surge!
now bring on the co-culture, baby!

$29 and $27 opks later

acute emotional upset = ugly red traveling torso blotches. crap.
extreme stress and sadness = delayed ovulation. shit!
I'm fallin' apart here.

I've been testing for a week now for my vanishing LH surge. a detected surge is crucial for my rapidly approaching co-culture appointment. no surge means no co-culture means another delayed IVF means a very grumpy person. there are many things in my life that I cannot rely on and ovulation is not one of them. my cycle is textbook. well it used to be. next test: 4 pm EST. I haven't peed in hours. time to place your bets people.

"...stress can affect the functioning of the hypothalamus — the gland in the brain that regulates your appetite and emotions, as well as the hormones that tell your ovaries to release eggs. If you're stressed out, you may ovulate later in your cycle or
...not at all.

It's important to differentiate between constant and sudden stress. The body often acclimates to constant, everyday stresses, so you'll probably ovulate fairly consistently each cycle. It's sudden stress — a death in the family, an accident, divorce — that can throw your cycle off and interfere with ovulation."

even better.

"All stress is not created equal. Abnormal levels of stress hormones in the system can affect sperm production and prevent or delay ovulation. Harm is done when no time is allowed for recovery after a bout with stress or when one or more stresses happen simultaneously."

fuck.

good buddies

I was beginning to think that people really do suck. that the world is very cruel. the day before chilli passed away we were at the local dog park. I knew our little guy wasn't feeling well and I figured a trip to the park would "lift his spirits." he used to be very social and really enjoyed chasing all the large labs and shepherd mixes. squeeling out of frustration, skinny little pug legs trying to keep up. these last few months he had slowed down considerably and was perfectly content to sit by my feet and simply watch. it was nice to be outside and the weather was fantastic.

our last trip was cut short when he fainted in the grass. I quickly ran over and picked him up - a 26 pound wet noodle. nobody, not one fucking person in the park, offered me any assistance as I carried away an unconscious dog (while trying to gather my belongings and leash our other dog.) all the bastards sat on the benches and chatted away. I was obviously struggling and had started to cry. why wouldn't anyone offer to help?

once I got to the sidewalk chilli was aware and wagging his tail. an older woman on the street ran over to me and suggested she take us to the vet. "what can I do? where can I drive you?" I thanked her repeatedly for her kindness and assured her chilli would be "ok." I mentioned he was going through chemotherapy and what we witnessed was probably some sort of side effect. once I got "the kids" unleashed and into the car I noticed something amazing about the woman. she was crying too.

it's difficult to sit here now at my desk with an empty dog bed at my feet. there's no snoring or the sound of pug toenails on the hardwoods. an ever present warmth is missing. I have to say the incredible amount of genuine support - lovely messages, cards and flowers - I have received has overwhelmed and amazed me. and these virtual communities that I've stumbled upon (blogs and IF message boards) man, what great women (and man.) I intend to save each and every email, pm, and comment to print out and look back on when I am feeling crappy. sadly, so many of you know exactly how I feel.

I was struck by this particular email.

"I wish there was something I could say or do to make this time better for you. my 4-year-old niece just lost her dog as well. she was very upset - asked her mom why dogs don't live longer like people. and then about an hour later she answered her own question: "people live longer than dogs because it takes them longer to learn how to be nice and be a good buddy. dogs don't have to live as long because they are born nice and already know how to be a good buddy"."

I take it back. yes! the world is full of good people. thank you.

we'll miss you.

"mom gets to meet her angel."

after being diagnosed with 2 separate cancers in august, our little boy chilli, my shadow, passed away last night at home. b and I were by his side when he took his last breath. his crooked, little tail wagging.

cancer has robbed me, yet again. I slipped into a deep and great depression when my mom passed away from a brain tumor. I could barely get out of bed in the morning and function properly. then I got the call. there was an emaciated, homeless pug that needed a family. I adopted him. what was I thinking?! now I had to take care of this little guy. this happy soul just so full of love and personality. I rescued him but really, he rescued me.

he changed my life. he got me back on my feet. he saved me. we literally went everywhere, the two of us. we went to work each day in a cab to my office in soho. we traveled on planes. we went shopping on fifth avenue. we met with clients. favorite memories include tom and jerry's, a downtown pub where he would sit on his own stool at the bar. he loved guinness! the irish pug! we even went through formal training to become a certified therapy dog. unfortunately he never passed the final exam because "my shadow" failed the separation part of the test.

a broken heart hurts very much. the severity of his disease completely caught me off guard. he didn't look sick or act sick. just 2 days ago I ordered him a name tag with our new address on it. I feel like something huge is missing. chilli was very, very special. he was a major and positive presence that added so much to my life, to my family's life, and I am truly thankful for that. he always provided a lot of comfort and laughs during my down days struggling with the failed IVFs. he was forever snuggled by my side, happy happy.

they say my mom sent him to me. this angel. yes, she did indeed.

it's november. time to start IVF

the sofa is coming! the sofa is coming!

tomorrow sometime between noon and 4 pm. I'm freaking out. what if I don't like it? there's a good chance it will look entirely different in my little home. a giant piece of furniture only looks bigger in a small space and I fear the "living room" will be all sofa. I'm a huge fan of buying and returning. hand towels (wrong color) and sweaters (what was I thinking?) are much easier to return though.

we survived halloween. we had a handful of enthusiastic trick or treaters - a princess, a witch, a cop, and a bunch of questionable costumes (oversized clothing and face paint.) b and I handed out gummy body parts - appropriate treats from a surgeon. the little girl in the tiara looked frightened and bothered when she reached into the candy bowl and took out a finger and a foot.

unfortunately, I had the perfect dramatic costume. one that could scare the living daylights out of anyone. the rash... is back. all I needed was a bikini top to terrify the entire neighborhood. a pale and flabby back covered in multiplying and traveling red splotches. that's scary stuff. run for your life people!

blogfree week

whew. it's been a nutty week with a lot going on and super needy clients. 7 days when I didn't get a chance to post or read up on all my peeps. I have a lot of catching up to do.

reproductively, things have been slow. just tons of waiting. and waiting. what else is new? I do however have my co-culture appointment(s) scheduled. 14 and 15 november. the first day I give a TON of blood and the next morning I'll have the procedure. oh joy. it happens to coincide with b's 2 day conference in the city. we plan on spending one night at a hotel. woo hoo! like a little vacation! a little vacation where they take out a chunk of your uterus.

ummmm.

I started knitting again. that's big news. I'm working on giant needles with dense, chunky yarn. I need instant gratification.

I saved a dog! we rescued a stray off of a very busy street. he was literally running straight towards I 95 from downtown new haven. straight into the worst traffic one can imagine. after luring the poor puppy with a baguette -- bait, fresh sourdough bait, we got him safely into the car and to the local animal shelter. he had one blue eye and one brown eye. we called him bowie. he was beautiful! (and awfully stinky.) of course I wanted to keep him. we all know that's completely out of the question.

and...

an old client of mine was arrested and thrown in jail. busted for printing fifties in the basement of his business. the cops found high end scanners and printers along with brand spankin' new bills. he claims he is innocent. yeah, ok. now did he pay me in cash? hmmmmm. I believe so.

our roof sprung a leak. twice.

oh! and

we made a major purchase for the apartment. something that has been needed for quite some time now (years actually) but we just couldn't commit. it's a huge financial and design investment. sure, we wanted knoll but spending $7,431 (free shipping) was not an option. I am a design snob with specifics in mind and a limited budget. we finally found a decent alternative I could live with (sort of) and bought it. I immediately called sister L and said, "I've just made your sister J very happy."
"really? what did you do?'
"come on. can't you guess?"
"YOU DECIDED TO ADOPT!"
"no. we just bought a new sofa."

dinner party meltdown

blech.

it was a very important gathering. I was meeting for the first time, b's chairman, his attendings and the fellow fellows (and all their wives.) our host (the chairman) will be operating on my nephew this winter. it was crucial that I "appear" charming and be extra polite. it was necessary to come across as happy, a pleasure to be around, and loving our new city. I had to make a good impression.

I felt "a little off" even before the party. none of my clothes fit! all my pants felt and looked like leggings. skin tight! all I needed was a polyester muumuu. I looked like shit (even though I was wearing the special eyeshadow.)

of course we got completely lost and arrived late. it was dark (I have no sense of direction once the sun sets.) when we finally got there everyone was joyously snacking on shrimp, laughing and drinking a festive pink cocktail. tequila I think.

the other fellows actually brought their young kids. they were beautiful. we all know the fellows make no money, but come on! collect your pennies people and hire a babysitter! please! for the sake of the infertiles!

"are your kids at home?" asks the perky wife with the super plunging neckline.
"no. we don't have any children."
"how do you like new haven?"
"ummm. it's ok. yeah, it's fine. but where we are located it is a little difficult to meet people. I really don't know anyone. yet."
"it's a shame you don't have kids. I have met so many great and interesting women through my daughter's play groups."

"POW!"

that's when it hit me. twice. 1- I don't, and may never have kids. 2- I'm missing what is necessary for me to meet great and interesting people (in this crappy town that everyone said I would love.) although I have met one great and interesting person on my own. square peg -- a fellow infertile. I like her very much but... she's MOVING away!

the uncontrollable tears came out of the blue and FAST. I excused myself and quickly got to the bathroom. I'm soooo hoping nobody noticed the official start of a genuine meltdown.

the evening was lovely. for everyone else. the food was outstanding and all the guests were incredibly nice. after dinner "the wives" and I sat in the kitchen and drank new zealand sauvignon blanc and chatted. unfortunately, 90% of the conversation was about day-care, sippy cups, and potty training. go figure. I had nothing to add. the wine was numbing. it felt good not to feel. I didn't feel infertile. I didn't feel like I had a dog at home dying of cancer(s.) I didn't feel all alone in a town full of college students. I didn't feel like I had a husband that is always taking care of someone else and is never home.

I felt nothing until I got home. and threw up.

adding insult to injury

I'm considering writing a letter to CVS because of discrimination and blatant insensitivity. I drove to the pharmacy yesterday to buy some hydrocortisone cream to self-medicate my sickly rash. the parking lot was relatively empty and I chose a spot near the entrance. it was raining. I pulled in just to notice the large, blue, rectangular sign "EXPECTANT MOTHERS ONLY." Bollocks! I drove round and round feverishly looking for the sign that said "NASTY SKIN RASH PATRONS ONLY." no such luck.

this is the second time a "sign-assault" has happened to me. my first experience was at my local stop & shop. the sign screamed "PARKING FOR THOSE WITH INFANTS." in other words "BACK UP AND DRIVE AWAY INFERTILE!" or "YOU SUCK. YOU FAILED. SHOP SOMEWHERE ELSE!"

you'd think getting into your family friendly (how ironic) subaru station wagon and driving across town to get some organic rice milk, decaf coffee and paper towels would be simple -- an unemotional event. but no. I have to be reminded, yet again, of what I don't have. what I may never have. can't I just shop in peace? hey! I've recently experienced "acute emotional upset" (see previous post) and maybe I need a little care and consideration. or a nice place to park.

from now on it's walgreens. and trader joes.

now what?!

I have a sickly skin condition. it's ugly and it's spreading. it started in the middle of the left side of my back and has been slowly creeping down and NOW over to my belly. a pattern of red, oddly shaped blotches. they are not "raised" and they don't itch. they are just... there.

b is perplexed. I noticed a small rash after my one and only "successful" IVF cycle. (success in terms of finally getting to ER and ET.) is it a reaction to the smorgasbord of IVF meds and vitamin supplements? the pio shots maybe? b went to his/our medical bookshelf (all my books are stored in the basement) and found some pretty interesting information. I was convinced I had ringworm just because it's so nasty and gross. or even the flesh eating disease. well, it's not ringworm and there's no flesh eating going on. it appears to be some kind of blah blah blah psoriasis. "manifestations of the condition can occur following infection or (get this) acute emotional upset." that's me! the one with the acute emotional upset!

so which upset exactly brought on the sickly skin condition? the move? the botched renovations? the rapidly growing dept? the rapidly growing weight? the multiple failed IVFs? the multiple canine cancers? I wonder. at this point I'm expecting total body coverage of the mysterious red welts.

b said to make an appointment with a dermatologist just to be on the safe side. no way! not now. with all of the time I have spent at cornell and at the oncologist's office I am NOT adding another physician to my life. until I start to scratch or the rash ventures to where the public can see it, I'm simply going to ignore the presence of the blah blah blah...whatever.

to acupuncture or not?

I'm really struggling with this one. acupuncture was a significant part of my one and only ER (1 out of 3 attempts) so I am really considering adding it to my IVF #4 regimen -- wheat grass, whey protein shakes, 20 some odd vitamin supplements, no caffeine... the cost is what is holding me back. I just don't think we can swing it at the moment especially because our dog is so sick with cancer(s). do we continue to add to and inflate our IVF dept? do we suck it up and open up a new credit card? I need some advice here ladies (and you too (in)fertile frank.)

b had a long conversation the other night with his mother. I should clarify and say he had a long "listen" to his mother the other night. she went on and on and on about her acupuncturist... in chicago. she is adamant that we travel out there to see her. yeah, ok. are you paying?

silence. "our acupuncturist is great." b said.

long silence. "no, she is NOT korean."

silence. "she's trained and specializes in fertility."

extra long silence. "YES, I have met her and I like her a lot. she's taught us a great deal about nutrition, positive thinking and preparing for IVF emotionally."

here we have another shining example of her not accepting me or my choices. just because I don't see her acupuncturist mine must be bad. all wrong. I'm just so sick and tired of all her judgments. if I am unable to give her a biological grandchild it is because I didn't do it "the right way - her way."

so back to my predicament. do I spend the "extra" funds and go for the weekly needles? what to do. what to do.

I'm back

and feeling pretty good. chilli had his chemo on wednesday and after I headed north home to maine for a few days. I have a nice little satellite office set up there, a big open yard for the dogs to roam, and nothing but ocean to look at (when not staring at my mac.) oh, and lobster. lots of it!

some friends were visiting the area from ny for a long weekend. b came up saturday night from ct and we had them over for a lobster/clam feast complete with martinis -- straight up with olives -- my friend's specialty. NOTHING beats sitting on the deck overlooking the atlantic watching the sky and water change colors with the sunset. after the lobster massacre we had defrosted wedding cake for dessert. fyi, frozen fondant is very similar to tupperware. shocking to us all, the cake was quite good. or maybe it was the champagne that our friends brought that made it taste so yummy. in keeping with the celebration, I sported my veil from last year (complete with festive ostrich feathers.) I loooved that veil. it's too bad I was only allowed to wear it for like 20 minutes at my own wedding. even with the IVF weight gain, the veil still fit!

so the salt air, sun, and beach did us good. I feel more optimistic and encouraged to start our next cycle and chilli is "side-effect-free." business is great (and relatively creative.) it's nice to be back and feeling good.

the dream

I was back in college. I was in a familiar dorm room hanging out and chatting with 2 friends that I haven't thought of in years. literally years. it was actually quite nice to "see" them and visit for a bit. we had a lot of catching up to do. unlike me, they hadn't aged a morsel. those 1980's hairstyles were looking pretty current and rather hip.

I said I was having fertility issues and was going through IVF. I wanted to be open and honest with everyone. I was going to need some help with the dogs and had to explain the reason for my early morning (monitoring) trips to nyc from... syracuse!

"don't wait until your my age to start having children. it's so much harder when your eggs are old."

they were visibly flustered and bothered by my confession and clearly wanted nothing to do with me or my reproductive words of advice. wow.

why?!

I was upset and needed answers. I went to track down my roommate at the school of architecture. I found her sitting at a drafting table chatting with her husband and 2 kids. I told her about my conversation back at kimmel hall (the old dorm.) she started to explain why my friends were so disinterested. so incredibly cold.

and I woke up.

round 3

"the train must come to a complete stop before it can start moving backwards." (or something like that...)

L said this to me referring to chilli's course of treatment. he hasn't gotten any worse (good news) but there were no visible changes on his x-rays (bad news.)

"If the medicine tastes bad it must be working." (or something like that...) J was referring to the chemo and all the terrible side effects chilli has suffered through. if this is true then our little pug is well on his way to being cured. yeah. right.

words of wisdom from my family of medical professionals.

chilli had his third chemo yesterday. so far there have been no obvious side effects (touch wood.) arrogant vet is trying a different medication this time with the hope of a slight reduction in tumor size. as with any large, slow growing tumor even a tiny bit of shrinkage would be awesome.

it amazes me how many people have a vet oncologist in their life. now that I have a dog with cancer (plural) I'm involved in a whole new world. pets with a terminal illness. arrogant vet's practice is a busy operation. sadly, there are a lot of us out there.

"my pug has liver lymphoma and an atypical thymoma in his chest. what kind of disease does your basset hound have?"
"bone cancer."
"I'm sorry."

it's like infertility. I'm always shocked at how many infertiles I see in the waiting room at cornell. sometimes every seat is taken. again, sadly, there are a lot of us out there.

"I am a poor responder with old eggs and I have a husband with a low count and low morph. what's your deal?"
"PCOS and six failed IUIs."
"I'm sorry."

canine oncology and reproductive endocrinology. my hobbies. my life.

"the" discussion

b and I finally had it yesterday.

donor eggs.

as expected, "new RE dr d" did mention DE as an option. what's nice about that concept is that there is not time limit. no ticking clock. if "new RE dr d" is unable to perform his magic (but he will) we can wait 1.5 years when b will finally have an income. a paycheck once and for all! at that point I'll be a 73 year old with a newborn!

with any bad news, you learn to adjust and cope with the passage of time. when my mom passed away I thought I would never get over the pain and extreme sadness that consumed me for so long. the depression physically hurt. as time went on I was forced to "accept" the loss. you have no choice.

not having a biological child with b would be another major loss in my life. on some level I feel like I have been subconsciously preparing myself for bad news. DE talk a year ago would have sent me to bellevue psychiatric hospital in hysterics. I've been existing with a constant lowgrade grief since I had my tubes removed. there has been a lot of time to think. to mourn. we all know IVF does not come with any guarantees. after 3 spirited attempts thus far, the reality of our complex situation is sinking in. I hope we won't have to "accept" the loss of a biological child. if that is sadly the case, we have the DE in our back pocket.

"new RE dr d"

is the man! he is everything (and more) that I had hoped for. I really believe that if someone out there can get us pregnant, it's "new RE dr d." b and I are FINALLY in the proper hands. experienced hands. hands that are sensitive to poor responders with sperm challenged husbands. all those persistent (no doubt very annoying) phone calls and desperate emails paid off. like mum always used to say "the squeaky wheel.."

there will be no (I repeat NO) bcps used next cycle. he suggested co-culture! that was music to my ears. I have been fantasizing and dreaming of co-culture from the minute I walked into cornell's super fancy suite. "new RE dr d" was actually a bit more hopeful than I imagined he would be. he has had successes with women like me. he just got a 43.5 year old woman pregnant! I have been lurking on an IVF board and watching her situation closely. she finally got her BFP. it's awesome.

we feel an enormous sense of relief. we are moving onward and upward -- making progress. I'm breathing again!

16 sept 07

today is our wedding anniversary! 1 year!!!

today was supposed to be our ET.
((((big sigh))))

IVF. cancelled.

I did it.

14 hours before egg retrieval I called off the procedure. after 12 days of stimming and daily (4 hour round trip train) monitoring in manhattan (including yesterday's 4:12 am train) at $32-$37 round trip, $4 subway round trip, $7 daily parking, and the occasional frenzied cab ($30), the cycle's a bust.

my "current" RE is on maternity leave (how selfish) and in terms of my personal care, I have fallen through the cracks. suddenly I don't have a doctor. I refused to have the temp RE take over and I chose a doctor within the practice who is known for his success with poor responders. I am the epitome of the poor responder.

after daily, numerous calls to "new RE dr d" he never called me back. his stupid ass, idiotic, incompetent receptionist assured me that he or she would return my phone calls. my biggest fear was that the transition to "new RE dr d" wouldn't be smooth. wouldn't happen. my insticts were right on. I indeed fell through the cracks and was in no-man's land flailing at cornell.

I had 2 "senior" follicles and 1 "junior." I was on the fence about proceeding with such a small reserve. I needed to speak with a doctor to get more information, facts, before I could feel confident with the retrieval. it all seemed way too risky. after at least 7 frantic calls to new RE dr d yesterday alone, I still did not get a response. I ended up ringing the main desk. this was an emergency!

early evening I finally touched base with the attending on-call. he spent 15 minutes with me going into detail my b/w and u/s results. we talked about the risks of failing and the cost. we talked about trying a different protocol next time. the point is, WE TALKED! I actually had a conversation with a doctor who addressed my concerns. halleluiah! "if you were my patient, I would suggest we not go though with the retrieval." that's all I needed to hear -- sound advice from a pro. I am obviously incapable of managing my own care and making significant medical decisions. I draw pictures for a living.

my ovaries are killing me right now. I am happy(?) with my decision -- it was the right one -- but very sad and disappointed. does that make sense? b is pretty upset and he is concerned that each delayed cycle could potentially be worse. time is not on our side. I'm old.

this last week has been total hell and complete torture for me. between a very sick, post chemo pug in diapers with uncontrollable oozing diarreah (he was eventually hospitalized), the stresses of an IVF cycle (with no doctor), and dealing with cancelled insurance coverage (I forget to send in a check-- surprise, surprise) I am completely and totally spent.

baby parking

"I'm off now to get some diapers." DH said.

how I've longed to hear those exact words. yes, b returned from shopping with a package of diapers. sadly they were purchased for chilli, our dog.

the second round of chemo really destroyed our little pug. his symptoms have been extreme -- lethargy, vomiting, shaking, drooling, and the terrible, terrible explosive diarrhea. it's so bad. it's a constant uncontrollable stream that requires a diaper. I'm forever cleaning him up, mopping the floors and rewashing dog beds. it's so incredibly heartbreaking. he really seems to be suffering and I am responsible.

how do you know when enough is enough? am I being selfish by putting him through all these debilitating treatments? he had a few nauseated days with his first chemo and then he rallied. you wouldn't even know he was sick. this round has been an entirely different experience -- one I don't know if he (or I) can go through again.

I am scheduled for egg retrieval, with 3 lousy follicles, this thursday. I am totally unprepared for this. I feel like it would be a lot less trouble to simply toss the thousands of dollars out the window instead of actually following through with this cycle. I've been so focused on chilli and have completely neglected my own health and diet. waking up daily at 4 am to trek into the city for monitoring is exhausting. working (even just a little) is exhausting. dealing with multiple REs, the IVF nurses, the ER vet, the oncologist, the billing department, the insurance company AND the electrician is exhausting. feeling incredibly defeated and sad is... well you know, exhausting.

pulling into a parking space at super stop and shop in order to buy chilli some boiled chicken, white rice and pedialyte just added fuel to the fire. it was a typical non-handicapped space until I noticed the sign. "this space reserved for those with infants." in other words, "infertiles not allowed."

my life

as a poor responder. more distressing news. all those promising follicles that we saw a few days ago are no longer. where did they go? I am now back to 2 (maybeee 3) on my left ovary and 1 on my right. goddammit! what the hell?! my 8 3/4 month pregnant RE said "I'm sorry." she's sorry?!

I blame the 3 months of bcps. "don't over-suppress the poor responder!" I tried with all my might to not completely fall apart in the middle of rush hour in grand central. the lump in my throat actually hurt. all I wanted to do was collapse and sob on the #6 train platform. do we continue with this cycle? the reality is this whole IVF thing is probably just a fantasy. an indulgent, exhaust the savings, challenge the marriage, risk major depression, full-on fantasy.

the realization of possibly never getting pregnant in my lifetime hit very, VERY hard. it's an "awareness" that you want to have when you are safe at home with family not running to catch the commuter train to new haven. this is it. for real. if the IVF is not a success it's an entirely new challenge that I am not prepared for. this morning when I woke at 4:00 I sincerely had hope. I believed I had multiple follicles filled with potential. it's b's birthday and I was banking on having fantastic news to celebrate. we could use some good news in this house.

happy birthday b! and I'm sorry.

labor day weekend

a memory I will never forget. labor day 1997.

I had just purchased, completely on my own, a 1-bedroom (post war 1960's ugly white brick) co-op apartment in manhattan. it was on the cusp of beautiful gramercy park -- but no man's land actually. it had a doorman. it had private outdoor space. it was all mine!

my mom came down to visit. our relationship had been "strained" for a few months because she had openly (and painfully) disapproved of my long term boyfriend at the time. he and I were planning on spending our lives together and it was common knowledge that my family was not thrilled. these were challenged times.

she loved my choice... in apartments. I could tell she was very proud of me. yes, the space needed work and some fine tuning but it was all good. nyc on labor day weekend is a ghost town. we totally took advantage of the empty streets. proper straight-up gin martinis and polenta at the union square cafe bar. late afternoon movies at the angelica film center. shopping on lower 5th ave. we had a fantastic time. she loved NY. she had the jackie O sunglasses and hermes scarf. she fit right in.

I remember hailing her a cab back to la guardia airport early tuesday morning before heading off to work. I was unhappy to see her go and she was visibly sad as well. we promised to go to the us open next labor day to see some great tennis. flushing ny is just a few subway stops away.

my mom landed safely in boston and got home to maine uneventfully.

then came the call. I remember exact details like it was yesterday. what I was wearing -- a brown suit and light blue shirt. the weather -- cloudy and very muggy. the meeting -- seagrams building, midtown manhattan. she had had a major seizure back at home and was hospitalized at mass general hospital with a glioblastoma brain tumor. cancer. how could this be?! she had conquered ovarian cancer some years before. she had already suffered through the surgeries and all the horrific treatments. how could this be?! her life, our lives, changed forever that day. never to be the same.

labor day weekend 1997. what an amazing time we had. that was the last time I saw mum healthy and well. I will forever cherish this memory.

it's a "go!"

I got the green light to proceed with IVF #3 (or is it #2.5?) the cyst has fizzled to an unremarkable size and my estrogen levels are spectacular. FINALLY!

I have more follicles this time too! 3 on one side and 4 on the other. the last cycle I only had 2, total, to start with.

:::::: lifting our new simon pearce wine glass high in the air (wedding gift received a week ago) with a splash of pinot noir (for the sake of celebration) :::::::

cheers to a positive cycle! cheers to our little chilli! to growing follicles and shrinking tumors!

4 am wake up call

off to cornell tomorrow (try again) to see if I can start my stims. my meds are getting all dusty. this IVF cycle has been delayed way, way too long now. if that infamous cyst is still lingering I am going to demand they get rid of it right then and there. I'm not getting any younger.

hmmm.

I'm amazed by something every single day. sometimes it's a good thing. sometimes, well, not so good.

how can a giant suv with a mountain bike on the back and kayak on the roof be parked in a handicapped space at the post office? nice.

how can a little dog be so full of cancer? 2 completely unrelated cancers!

how can a small condominium be so much work and so expensive to maintain? I'm wicked (I'm from maine) tired of people saying "oh, but you are married to a doctor." yeah, he is indeed a physician but he is also a "student." students don't make money! students don't have a salary! some students owe $$$,$$$ in school loans (take note of the number of dollar signs.) yikes! the financial drama here on prospect street is genuine. the ancient, not to code pipes in our newly renovated "master bath" (tee hee) are no exaggeration. I really wish we had rented.

how can our contractor sleep at night knowing he totally took advantage of us, the infertiles (x2)? he did a crappy, low budget job and basically stole our money. another life lesson. lesson #396,885.

a new attitude?

patience over at the impatient patient brought up a very interesting question. "are you a different person online and on your blog?"

I was amazed at the number of people that said they censored their blogs in order to not offend anyone. that they are not being true to what they are thinking and feeling. wow. I am the total opposite. if you can't be honest here where can you be honest? (that's just my point of view. no offense please.) this silly site of mine is MY relief. this is where I can type like a raving lunatic and be open and vent. we all know IF is wicked. I (sort of) get it out of my system before b comes home from work. it's my "dear diary, I had a shitty day. IVF sucks..." and it happens to be public. I'd rather bitch and moan about MIL online than do something stupid in real life that I would regret later on. believe me, I am not all gloom and doom, angry, a total debbie downer. starting today I will end each post on a positive note -- excerpts from my grateful journal. if only I could find it.

3 very eventful and positive things happened just yesterday. three! do good things come in 3's as well?

1 - chilli, who had a terrible, nauseated day on wednesday, started to eat again. a pug that rejects hand fed roast beef is a real reason for serious concern. wednesday was day 5 after his chemo and arrogant vet (vet #3) anticipated that he would be in bad shape during this time. well it passed. he actually has a little spring in his step again. woohoo!

2 - b passed his surgical boards!!! congratulations b! he is always so dramatic after he takes these medical exams. "I failed!" well, you didn't. I knew he didn't. he is postponing the oral exams until may. he thinks we have "a lot going on right now." he thinks?

drum role please. 3 - MIL is not coming labor day weekend. that's all I am going to say.

a new attitude? no, not really. just a little less pessimistic grumpiness and more of my "what a glorious day" side. whatever.

little follow-up after "a's" comment below

I just have to make it incredibly clear that I have treated my MIL from day 1 with nothing but respect. for example, I spent the majority of my wedding day in a korean costume after a VERY long traditional korean ceremony. I barely had any time in the beautiful white silk dress that cost me a fortune and that I loved so much. the ceremony was so time consuming and once it was over my guests started to leave. how is that for respect?

she is in america now and we do things a little differently over here. I don't bow to my elders but I am certainly very respectful towards them. that is how I was raised. I am also devoted to her son. I was able to help him out financially on many occasions and buy our home based on my personal funds I earned from my own business and tons of hard work. I clean the house. I shop for groceries. I cook the majority of the meals. she has got to snap out of this religious haze and accept the reality that I can be "not korean" AND a good person. if she loves her son it's time she learned(?) to be nice to me. isn't that what jesus would do?

and what if b and I should have a child? her visits will be few and far between unless I start getting the respect I deserve.

sorry "a" you struck a nerve. I could go on and on with stories about her rejecting me. that would be a different blog entirely.

they say

bad things come in 3's.

1 - cancelled/postponed IVF #3 (or is it #2.5)
2 - chilli's diagnosis of 2 cancers
3 - MIL coming labor day

oh no. why does she have to visit now? why does she have to visit at all? I have so much on my plate at the moment and her arrival could easily push me over the edge. I am teetering there right now.

she "doesn't care for me." that is putting it mildly. the thing is, she doesn't even know me. her strong opinions are based on me not being a church goer and having religion a significant part of my life. I guess if I am not in church I must, no doubt, be worshiping the devil and committing all sorts of sins. that's me -- busting all the commandments! "thou shall..."

she loves to send me religious books. I am an earth conscious person that cares about the world's future. they go right into the recycling bin.

she better be on her best behavior. if she starts in with the criticism and speaking only in korean (to blatantly exclude me) I will have a total fit. the house is still not settled from the move. I have accomplished what I am capable of and it's not a whole lot. who cares. the kitchen is not completely painted, the bedroom still has boxes as dressers, and my office is a post-move dumping ground. I don't care. if she is mean to me I cannot be responsible for what I might say. and oh, I have a lot to say.

I've let her talk down to me in the past. I've let her negative comments and judgments get under my skin and upset me. not anymore. I'm trying my best to function normally while watching my dog struggle to breath and my successful IVF dreams disappear.

this was very telling. I met MIL's brother for the first time at our wedding rehearsal dinner. "wow. you are actually very pretty." he is clearly shocked and perplexed. she must have painted a hideous picture of me to all the relatives -- a disgusting and rude ogre of a person. well, I am not. surprise, surprise.

nyc to boston appointments

thursday. nyc. cornell. the cyst is still there and producing too much estrogen. IVF canceled again. goddammit! I had a borderline argument with my RE's aggravating receptionist (who happens to share the same name as MIL. figures.) I called to "speak with" not leave a message with RE. aggravating receptionist insists I call MIA IVF nurse. fuck off. I NEED to have a conversation with dr s. what part don't you understand?! dr s called back an hour later. so I guess she really does exist. oh, and she is very much pregnant with her first.

"blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, cyst. blah, blah, blah, cyst blah. no IVF for you. blah, blah, blah."

"thanks for calling me back -- ("finally." which I mumbled under my breath). oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy dr s."

"thank you. I am more motivated now to help my patients get pregnant."

what the hell does THAT mean? was she giving me some half-assed treatment up until now? what does motivated mean exactly? I am happy to hear this but at the same time I am a little pissed.

friday. boston. chilli's oncologist. it was a very overwhelming experience. vet #3 has not a morsel of decent bedside manner. he rambled off cancer jargon and various protocols like he was giving a lecture to an auditorium full of vet students. he got visibly annoyed if I asked a question that had anything to do with part of his presentation that he had already gone over. "like I SAID..." he should have said "weren't you listening, stupid?" I was put on the spot to make to major decisions concerning our little guy's care. I should not have been alone at this appointment. how can an obviously confused and sobbing person know what to do?

chilli had his first round of chemo. it was difficult to watch. he wimpered and shook the entire time he had the IV in his little arm. I have never seen him like that. all I know is that this mysterious cancer in his chest is very advanced and very invasive. the unrelated liver lymphoma has been put on "the back burner." how can a 26 lb dog have so much cancer? the chemo will hopefully reduce the size of the mass (a mass that is so rare and, this amazes me, unidentifiable) and give chilli some relief until...

our intention is to keep him comfortable and pain free. I anticipate a rough road ahead.

bad news gets worse

our little boy is full of cancer. 2 different kinds. I was told (by vet #2) to keep our appointment with the oncologist (vet #3) in boston this friday. I am really not so sure why as he is full of disease and treatment is not likely. I have my own appointment at cornell tomorrow to see about this pending IVF cycle. I've spent the last week literally trying to make contact and get simple answers from the medical community - both human and canine. every attempt has been a huge disappointment. I can only seem to communicate (wrong word) with pissy receptionists, random bitter staff, and voicemail. it's next to impossible to speak with anyone who knows anything of substance - i.e. my RE or chilli's vet. nobody at cornell can tell me definitively when I am supposed to have my post cyst/post bcps follow-up appointment. my dopey IVF nurse gave me 2 completely different instructions. of course she is out of the office until friday. remember? this woman NEVER works. chilli's vet #1 had us in limbo for 3 days for scheduling a visit with vet #2/#3. when we got the "appointment" and showed up they said they had never even heard of us. how can this be? both my vet and RE are "for profit" organizations (HUGE, gigantic profit) and the care and attention has been shit.

we are at critical points here. my very special dog is dying of cancer and I am literally lost in the IVF chaos of cornell. we have both fallen through the cracks. falling doesn't feel very good.

I'm heartbroken

our little guy is very very sick. we just found out he has a massive cancerous tumor in his chest and it's pressing on his lungs. his breathing has been compromised. we are off to boston to meet with an oncologist to get more details, and, we hope and pray, a treatment protocol. please send positive thoughts his way.



fucking cancer has hit my family once again. fuck you tumor!

typical response

if I hear this once more I think I will scream my head off. please note - this is not directed towards you jwp. we simply need support, good friends, and a whole lot understanding (especially if I appear a little out of sorts - which is usually the case.) we are not seeking out answers (except at cornell.)

adoption. yes! it is truly a fantastic thing. I'm just tired of people suggesting that we go down that road. it's become the oh so popular and generic solution to our "problem." lots of people we know, CLIENTS EVEN, throw the word around so easily like it's that simple. "if the third IVF doesn't work just adopt." yeah, ok. now why didn't I think of that?

I look at my sisters and my brother. I see both of my parents in all 3 of them. it's an amazing feeling/connection to see such a strong resemblance especially when both parents have passed away. it's familiar. it's comforting. my mother died 9 years ago this coming november. I see her constantly (physical traits, certain mannerisms, expressions) in my siblings and this makes me incredibly happy. wow. she's gone but I can still see her.

I recall one of my sisters saying that she enjoyed being pregnant. I take it back. she loved it. I want that amazing experience. they (the fertiles) say there is nothing else like it. call me selfish. call me self-absorbed. call me narcissistic. but I want it! I want to get big and fat. I want to feel that first kick. I want to have a child with b. I want that powerful family connection. the artist and the physician. the white girl and the asian guy. our child would no doubt be an unusual combination (and very earth conscious and skilled at recycling.)

I'm not ruling out adoption. I actually always sort of imagined having a few foster children in my life. wednesday's child on the news always touched me. b and I have not talked about the "a" word so I have no idea how he feels about it. I take that back too. we have discussed the gigantic price tag that goes with adopting a child but that's about it. god, they really don't make this easy for us. parenthood.

honesty is not the best policy

this is why we infertiles keep to ourselves and on occasion, tell a blatant lie. I have been avidly avoiding all baby showers and parties that are centered around small children. these events are just too much for me at the moment. it is hard enough to walk past the baby section at target without feeling a sharb jab of emptiness.

I recently received an evite for a baby's birthday party this weekend. my friend has a ton of siblings and cousins that all have infants and toddlers. estimated ratio: 1-3 kids per adult. I cannot do it. it's too hard. I idiotically decided to be open and honest instead of the old "b and I have made other plans already, sorry." I sent her a gracious and very apologetic email explaining my state of mind. I was hoping she'd "understand." here's the kicker. she had her son via cornell center for reproductive medicine and infertility.

her reply - "sometimes you have to put on a tough face. It makes you stronger and able to manage things better if you face your problems."

face my problems? my infertility problems? my lack of fallopian tubes? my DH's few and highly challenged sperm? I was so upset that I posted her response on one of the IF message boards that I frequent. I got 16 responses

"- I think I'd be tempted to reply that my "problem" is with unsupportive and self-centered friends. It sounds like she's just pissed because you aren't coming to her party.

- That is awful!! How are you NOT "facing your problem"?! Does she think that by going to the stupid bday party, you will be able to better come to terms with T TTC? At least you can be assured that YOU did the right thing by writing a thoughtful/apologetic email, and she was the one that acted inappropriately.

- Oh gosh girl. WHAT an insensitive friend--especially since she experienced IF herself. I am so sorry she acted that way--you completely don't deserve it! You took the higher road here--rest assured. Self -preservation is EXTREMELY important during IF. Some people can handle certain situations better than others--how about this? I haven't gone to my niece or nephew's b-day parties in over a year OR any baby showers either. You know what? TOO BAD! I have to deal with IF and IVF---I am more important than anything else that bothers me and upsets me and that I can avoid. My sil and bil were fine with it (and even if they weren't, I still wouldnt've have gone--I see them all the time but birthday parties with tons of kids and preggos is not my idea of fun at all) Sorry she's so self absorbed that she can't dig back into her memory of when she suffered from IF and be a supportive friend. (((HUGS))) Do what's good FOR YOU!!!!!!!

- Granted I'm quite hormonal right now but her response made me very angry. I'm sorry your friend has lost her damn mind, not to mention her manners. I think birthday parties for kids are fantastic things but I really don't get some people's obsession with having ALL their friends there for their child's party. IF they want to come, YAY! But to actually get miffed if they don't? Beyond me.... I'm sorry again, hang in there.

- wow, are you going to respond back that you are facing your problems, on your own away from a bunch of babies and kids? i almost understand naive people saying stupid things but she is supposed to be a part of ourt club! That's it, I'm kicking her out!!!!

- And how does sitting through a baby's birthday party qualify as "facing your problems?" How is that going to help your state of mind at all? Ugh. I would celebrate that kid's birthday with a bottle of wine out on my patio."

reduce, reuse, recycle.

on a very sad note, Trish over at fertile hope is coping with a m/c. I am very sad for her. I was thrilled to add her to my BFP peeps list. poor thing.

on an angry note, some might think I verbally assaulted a neighbor's elderly father this morning. I am turning into the condo dumpster police recycling bully. the older, non-english speaking, chinese man had an armful of plastic and he was on his way to the dumpster. if there is one thing I am passionate about, it's recycling. it's easy to do. it takes so little effort. it makes a difference! of the 22 units in our complex only 8 recycle. EIGHT! that's criminal! I counted the bins before they were picked up yesterday morning. come on people! not recycling is yet another example of selfish me me me behavior.

I stopped the poor man in his tracks and tried my best to communicate "NO! NO dumpster! recycle please." the more I repeated this the louder it got. he laughed but I think he understood me in the end. my new mission now is to get on the condo board and make recycling a priority around here. I am the condo dumpster police recycling bully and I am watching you!

secret handshake

there she was. I knew her deal immediately after I set up my towel and beach chair about 10 feet away from her.

she was around my age - although a little younger. she was sporting a wedding band and solitaire - and a nice one too! she was also reading, like me, a hardcover book. she was not, like me, slathered in high spf suntan lotion. silly girl. you should know better in this day and age.

it was her fantastic "beach bag" that gave her away. there was no way that that bag has ever carried a plastic pail and shovel in it. the inside has never been exposed to sand, loose cherrios, or soggy diapers. there she was. at the beach on a beautiful day, alone like me, surrounded by tons of mothers chasing small children. a fellow infertile.

she had to be. beaches in the summertime are all about families. I suspected pcos or maybe "unexplained." I just sensed it. was she resting up before starting an IVF cycle? did she just have an IUI earlier this week? does her husband have zero motility? who knows. what I do know is that she doesn't have a child. maybe this was her choice. but with the high percentage of women out there experiencing infertility the chances are pretty good she is "one of us."

all we need now is some sort of handshake to clearly identify one another.

postponed and/or canceled

I've been away for a few days. nothing like traveling with a zippity quick macbook pro laptop and no power cord. my virtual life and all its connections were just an outlet away. I was so denied.

cd2 b/w and u/s revealed some bad news. a cyst. a 20mm cyst. it's producing a ton of estrogen and my levels are too high to proceed. IVF # 3 (or is it 2.5) is postponed and/or canceled. I am so upset. I was instructed to take 2 more weeks of bcps and then drag my ass back in for more tests. up at 4 am to take the 1 hour 45 minute "express" train to nyc. I am not taking this news very well. the constant stumbling blocks are really taking a toll on me. my state of mind. my will to move forward with all of this. it's just becoming too hard - this "tiptoe" living. I'm emotionally exhausted. I try my hardest not to to be and I am rather skilled now at fooling people. the cracks however, are beginning to show.

it just took me 20 minutes to unearth some tylenol. my head is throbbing. the pressure only gets worse when I glance over at the giant bag of IVF meds that I picked up earlier today (along with a $25 parking ticket.) maybe after some good quality sleep (sans pug gas AND with the added luxury of air conditioning) I will feel stronger and less... cracked.

"we're living large tonight b! the ac is going ON!"

move = $$,$$$

the money we have spent since the move to a cheaper part of the world is ridiculous. it hurts actually. I feel physical pain.

yale's healthplan is crap. super crap! even with an "employee discount," we only get $1,000 a year towards IVF. come on. that's insulting. I would be less offended if they offered nothing. we have no choice but to stick with cobra and dish out $1,000 a month. delaying our upcoming cycle because of the stressful condo purchase/renovation/move was pretty indulgent. so selfish of me.

I now have connecticut plates and I hate them! my car insurance went up an additional $1,000 a year. fuck! I spent 4 hours (8:15 - 12:15) at the always pleasant dmv yesterday. I went in with an expired license and a temporary one that was good for 2 more days. my current car inspection had inspired and I have a new, and pretty damn cumbersome, hyphenated married name. if I didn't get a valid license that day I would have had to take a written and driving test. no way man.

after the silly VIN inspection, I waited 15 minutes in line just to be told I needed my license first. "go to room 5." I filled out all my paperwork and got in yet another line. 45 minutes later jerky behind the desk told me a copy of my marriage license was not acceptable for my hyphenated name change. "use my maiden name then. I really don't care at this point." but the piece of mail I brought had a hyphen. either way I had to go back home and get the proper documentation - mail sans hyphen or the marriage license. dmv bastards.

after rummaging like a banshee through box after box I found the license. I drove back to the dmv totally pissed. jerky in room 5 gave me a pass to go to the head of the line when I returned. nice, I thought. when I did that I pissed off an entire room. jerky said "wait here a momment" and he proceeded to go ON A BREAK! 20 minutes later someone else replaced him. NOW I am really mad. on hour later (after eye exam and hideous photo session) I had my new valid drivers license. I felt like I looked in my photo. beat up. defeated. 1000 years old.

then the drama with the plates and registration. back to room 1. I cut in line AGAIN to get a numbered ticket to wait in yet another line. 25 people in front of me! and no book or magazine! dammit! "number 285." the bully was wickedly rude right off the bat. (dmv employees clearly hate their jobs.) after going through all my papers she denied me new plates. "your name on your insurance doesn't match your license. so sorry." ohhhh. the hyphenation pain!

"it IS my name! plus a little something extra!" give me a break! I was desperate at this point. the bully "sensed my unhappiness" and reluctantly gave me a fax number. I was instructed to call the dopes at the insurance company and have then fax over a the proper name adjusted document. 15 minutes later the fax arrived but had the wrong state on it. COME ON!!!! the bully was irritated as well by now and proceeded to lecture me on driving with inaccurate paperwork. piss off. just give me my stupid plates.

4 hours and $292 later, I am a legal (and very poor) connecticut resident. I hate it here. lessons learned? stay where you are. I'll say it again. moving sucks. and...

"first name maiden name" does NOT equal "first name maiden name - surname." with marriage you become an entirely different person.

baby name rant

I have been biting my tongue for a very long time on this particular subject. this post is long overdue.

super trendy baby names. bleck.

what ever happened to meaningful names? tradition? family names passed down from generation to generation. I keep hearing about these "so 2007" names and made up, distorted, ridiculous spellings - it's incredibly annoying. absurd actually.

"jewelz" "jozlyn" "katen" "breeley" "graycyn" "quade" what the hell? JEWELZ?! are you kidding me? don't do it! you'll regret it. think mullet haircuts and gouchos. there was a time when they were both acceptable. they were even considered cool.

I can speak from experience. I was given a extremely unusual and rare (some might say odd) name when I entered this world. a name that has tortured me on and off my entire life. I've been made fun of, laughed at and questioned "so really. what is your birth name?" piss off.

my point is, please be minful when choosing your child's name and its spelling. he/she has to live with it foorreevveerr. and forever is a very long time to be stuck in a groovy trend.

stuff

no more. I've reached my limit with personal belongings. NO MORE THINGS!

I was born into a family of hardcore shoppers. I remember the days of being very small and sitting and waiting on the steps of the original filene's basement in downtown boston. "meet me back here in 2 hours. here's money for a hotdog." my mom would say. off she went to spend (while saving) money. saks and barneys for less. many bargains to behold.

I cannot escape it. shopping is in my blood. high FSH is in my blood. I cannot rid myself of that either. shit.

I have a small and growing collection of generous wedding/birthday giftcards. no joke. target. villeroy and boch. 2 separate macy's cards. pottery barn. tj maxx. a consumer's dream come true - all that plastic! and no aprs or late fees! these are fantastic and very much appreciated gifts don't get me wrong. we just really need to be very selective and conscious of our purchases. no more shoes! ( I cannot believe I am saying that.) we will be packing boxes and moving yet again after b's fellowship ends. 2 - 3 years from now. gross.

moving changes your perspective on stuff. packing puts you in touch with every single item you own. do I really require all these candle holders, rolls of wrapping paper or black turtlenecks? this past month I realized b and I have everything we could possibly need or want in our life. however, there is just one thing blatantly (and painfully) missing. a child of our own.

home improvement 1-2-3

paint kitchen. hate the sheen. repaint kitchen.

paint bathroom. hate the color. repaint bathroom.

we spackled, primed and painted so much yesterday that our feet literally hurt. our feet!

moving sucks. I just really, REALLY want to feel settled once again. I wake up every morning feeling pretty good. then... I look around our bedroom. gross. boxes everywhere. crap stacked upon more crap. I'm good at that. I collect crap then I store it.

it feels awesome to be working again. my new project is fantastic and I'm diggin' it. it's pretty damn creative and interesting. but when one is working one is not unpacking or painting or repainting. the money will be good though - we sooooo need it. IVF stims start in less than 2 weeks. b's first paycheck as a fellow came on friday and it is considerably smaller than what we are used to. nothing like working harder and having more responsibility and making less. american express is really loving me right now. as we slip deeper into infertility dept all I have to show for it is an overflowing sharps container, 2 leftover cartridges of follistim and an empty uterus.

finally!

a male infertile that blogs. it's "refreshing." it's sad (of course.) it's a totally different point of view. it's about time.

check out this particular and very touching post. welcome to the vortex of doom...

thank you frank!

a "fresh" start

huh?

I met with my new "infertility" acupuncturist. oh man. he is a far cry from angela. I asked around (the 3 people I've met) and his name kept coming up as being the best (or maybe the ONLY) acupuncturist in town. he did say he had a few IVF patients from the yale clinic. after some more detailed discussions, a few turned into 1 - ONE! as far as I know this patient is undergoing acupuncture for sciatica relief.

"do you every experience bouts of anger?"

"it's funny you should ask that." the pug is torturing me. since the move he has yet to find any spots worthy of his pee and poop. what a dope. he constantly lifts his leg and then decides he'd rather move on to find a better, more desirable tree to pee on. he loves to relieve himself at the dog park though. he pooped there 3 times yesterday! so now he won't go in the morning or at night and just holds it until the 5 pm dog park walk. he holds it!!!! if we are lucky I'll get a tablespoon out of him. dopey.

this morning the heat and humidity were painful. the pug had consumed a lot of water last night and I knew he had to go. the frenchie (panting heavily after 30 seconds outside) was "empty" in a matter of moments. "good girl pookie." the pug, as always, dragged the three of us up and down the streets of new haven (in the scorching sun mind you) searching for "the spot." the elusive spot. it was so friggin' hot I could feel the sweat literally running down the back of my legs. poor lulu was struggling to breath and had to be carried. I carried her! and the pug - sniff, sniff, sniff, snort, sniff - NOTHING!

oh...... I experienced a bout of anger. I wanted to kill him (well not really.) and it cannot be healthy for his kidneys waiting every 24 hours to pee. but what do you do? I tried rewarding him with treats but he is a pug. if he knows I have food all he does is walk 3 steps, stare at me, walk 3 steps, stare...

"pee dammit! just pee for crying out loud! this majestic oak tree is perfect! that beautiful birch tree is an awesome spot! these hosta plants couldn't be better! peeeeee please!"

it was nice while it lasted

b's fellowship has kicked in. those 2 weeks post residency that he wasn't working were such a luxury. now I am all alone left to unpack and organize, deal with cranky contractor/plummer/electrician, and tend to all the other assorted challenging home owner responsibilities. we were initially told he could take call from home. well that was a blatant lie. even post-call b doesn't get home until late the next day. I cannot possibly paint this entire place, hang curtains and go through IVF #3 without his assistance. he better be up front and honest with his attendings straight away before the days of ER and ET arrive. they'll be here before you know it. "so sorry. no cardiac surgery for you! I need to have my eggs retrieved!"

we had dinner the other night with a fellow resident from westchester. he is also now technically a fellow. so I guess we had dinner with a fellow fellow. I was all excited for a new and instant friend - his wife. the anesthesiologist had recently moved up here as well. they brought their 15 month old daughter (very cute and sweet) to dinner AND they mentioned in passing that they were pregnant. no ordinary pregnancy. an unplanned pregnancy - a mistake goddammit! the wife didn't even know how far along she was. based on her stats I informed her she was probably due the second week in march. she looked at me like I was totally nutty. how could I possibly know that? I just suffered through a failed IVF missy. oh, I know these things.

I cannot be friends with a pregnant lady right now. especially one who doesn't want to be pregnant. our friendship was certainly short and sweet. at least my meal was yummy.

where's the "welcome" casserole?

the neighbors so far kinda suck. our contractor/plummer/electrician was hoping to access the troubled pipes through kind neighbor 16's apartment. we discovered their bathroom is renovated with the exception of our shared shower wall. "so let let guy in please!" nope. kind neighbor 16 literally hung up on our contractor/plummer/electrician. HUNG UP!

with the move I brought 7 containers filled with assorted plants and flowers. they are the talk of the new hood so I hear. the "condo president" was so impressed that he asked if I could possibly plant the giant empty planter in front of our units. fine. I have nothing better to do, right? I went to home depot, yet again, and spent $50 on whatever was on sale. while up to my elbows in dirt, peatmoss and perlite our fellow condo owners walked right by with no acknowledgment of what I was doing. one lady was clearly annoyed by the dogs which were tied to our front door. Come ON! a simple "hey, that looks nice." or " thanks for taking care of that eyesore." nada!

neighbor 22 was so bold as to ask b how much we spent on our unit. what? I figure the next time I run into her I will ask her what her salary is after taxes. she saw b come home from work wearing scrubs and proceeded to follow him and ask for medical advice. now THAT has got to stop. we are not operating a free clinic here. the doctor is NOT in!

the rest of the neighbors continue to stop, stare and linger right in front of our windows. it's very creepy. when will the novelty of being "new" wear off?

blog title change

I am totally exhausted and my back hurts like bloody hell.

my $200 le klint hanging lamp was totally crushed in the move (thanks to b's brilliant packing skills. thank god he has other talents.) our "new" shower is leaking into the neighbor's renovated bathroom. yikes! an emergency plummer is needed. at this point we need to go through the ceiling in order to address the disaster. THEN b literally put his foot through the neighbor's floor (ultimately the kitchen ceiling) while discussing the leaking "new" shower. AND I cannot seem to make any headway in the unpacking. I am constantly having to clean up stinky pug vomit. chilli insists on puking repeatedly on his bed, on our couch, and in random spots (under our bed and on the stairs) throughout the apartment.

a change in my blog description is a must. I no longer knit.

a not so private struggle with infertility (x2) and other random thoughts on home ownership and dogs

the burbs

we just discovered that our little condo community is mostly chinese. our neighbors have really welcomed DH (even though he is korean.) we learned that many of the young families here bring their parents over from china to take care of the children. I have yet to encounter anyone who speaks english. I think the elders fear/avoid me because of our 2 very ferocious (and small and gassy and bagel obsessed) dogs. I don't feel very welcome.

I came home yesterday (after tracking down the elusive trader joes) to find a large blow-up pool right in front of our unit. there must have been 5 or 6 small children splashing around and screaming with joy. they were all very cute and so happy. I couldn't help but imagine our own child playing in the pool with all the little neighbors. I immediately went inside, turned on the ac to drown (?) out the noise, and put a sheet in the window to block the view.

last night the pregnant woman in the returns line at home depot made me cry. she must have been close to 8 months pregnant and she looked great. I don't like being surrounded by all this fertility. why didn't b apply for a fellowship in nyc? the suburbs equal children. and lots of them.

post lobster

we have returned. back to the filth of incomplete home renovations, boxes of hastily packed junk and a massive "to do" list. the contractor/plummer/electrician is nowhere to be found. the heat and humidity are dreadful (our fans are far away in a westchester storage unit.) AND I have still yet to find a grocery store that is not 3 towns away. a fridge with $6 organic 100% cranberry juice and follistim cartridges isn't going to cut it.

I cannot even shower. I am waiting for an important call from dr s. after a ton of thought and many tears I decided to postpone our next IVF. there is too much going on at the moment and my frame of mind couldn't be further away from brown rice, ultrasounds and shooting up. emotionally and physically I am not prepared for a july cycle. we are taking a month off. a july IVF could never in a million years possibly give us positive results. I am defeated even before I start.

actually it is kind of nice to feel "human" again. I'm enjoying being normal for the time being. once we get a bit settled and I start working again I hope to feel more confident for round 2. or is it round 3? anyway, the lobster in maine was truly awesome. as usual I slipped into "seagull mode" and attacked everyone's leftover carcasses in search of undiscovered morsels of meat. for a vegetarian that's pretty hardcore. b once said he has never seen me happier than when I have a lobsta in front of me. now I'm wicked hungry.

home sweet new home

today is saturday 23 june. 5:45 pm. I just now had my first shower since thursday 7 am. the move was looong and haaard. we finally have hot water and I can shove aside some boxes of crap and sit on the couch and relax for 5 minutes. my back hurts.

my diet has gone to shit. very few quality greens, too much wine, wheat, cheese... ughhh. new haven is all about the pizza. my sister L, nephew B, and DH and I had a pizza last night with, no joke, mashed potatoes on top. it rocked! I need to get my post-move act together to gear up for the next round of IVF.

I am dead tired and I still need to get a bag ready for our trip home to maine tomorrow. I guess all I can really pack is my toothbrush. boxes of clothing are god knows where. at least the drive north is a bit shorter from our new address. what's the first thing I'll do when I get "downeast?" a loooooong deep breath of ocean air... and then a giant 2 lb. hardshell lobster. now we're talkin'.