Archive for the ‘Pregnancy’ Category

Embryo Transfer Story – Part Two

Tuesday, August 18th, 2009

If you missed it – here is Embryo Transfer – Part One.

I woke the morning of the transfer a big ball of nerves – on top of still being a big ball of miserable sick and pain. What a day! You’re supposed to be sick AFTER you get knocked up – not going into it! I mean, who wakes up and says “I’ll be pregnant by lunch.”?

I was given instructions to drink 24oz. of water to fill my bladder and take 600mg ibuprofen before the procedure. My bladder is the size of a jelly bean, so I knew I was going to be in agony. I started chugging and we drove to the clinic, to check-in at the surgery center.

So we checked in with my bladder filling by the minute, and no relief in sight. Then waited. We waited in the room for the waiting for what seemed like a millenia. I could feel each second ticking by. Ticking toward this new life and ticking away from the one I know and love.

Finally our name was called and we were taken back to a tiny little room. As soon as the nurse closed the door behind us I started sobbing. How were we finally standing in this room? The room where babies are made! There were no candles or rose petals. Only spotlights and speculums. Nothing too romantic about it, but oddly so in its own way.

Someone came in from the lab to confirm we were who we said we were. She asked if I was OK and I told her it was entirely possible that I was going to pee on the table. Wrapped in nothing more than a tiny sheet around my waist, I scurried down the hall to the bathroom where I was told I could let just a little go. I scurried back to find Dr. T standing in the room with Shelton. He explained what was going to happen and then fired up the ultrasound machine. He said my bladder was very full and told me I could let half go. He said he wasn’t sure how I’d know where half was, but I assured him I’d make it happen. So again, wrapped in my tiny, thin sheet, I scurried to the bathroom and scurried right back.

Another of the clinic’s doctors joined us, as did a nurse and the person from the lab, the andrologist. Shelton sat near my head and we held hands the entire time, sharing our secret double-squeeze several times throughout the procedure. A speculum was inserted and then a catheter was placed near the top of my uterus, or the entry, somewhere in there. The entire time the second doctor was doing an ultrasound so they could watch what was going on inside. When everything was in place, the andrologist brought in another catheter with the two embryos inside and Dr. T delivered them to my uterus. And in a moment, I had two embryos in my uterus.

Shelton and I (and ten other people) had made babies, and they were now living inside of my body.

I stayed on the table for about ten minutes; concerned less with how long I should stay flat and more with WHEN CAN I PEE ALREADY?! When I was completely certain I was going to pee in that room, I got up and went to the bathroom. And I tell you, it was like the relief you can only experience when you’ve been trapped in the car on a road trip for 50 miles and finally found a rest stop and you ran with your legs pressed together and finally let it go. Ahhhh.

Before we left, we were given a 4×6 photo, with two embryos in the center. Our first baby picture. (How many of you “normal” people have a baby picture this early? None! Nanny boo boo!) I think it might be the most beautiful photo of two sets of eight circles I’ve ever seen. I told Shelton I think they look like me. That picture is now hanging on my refrigerator, where very soon, I hope pictures of giggles and grins will join it.

The rest of the day we took it easy. Naps and watching movies. No water skiing, per the doctor’s orders. No tennis, per papa’s orders. And a lot of new glances at one another. For all intents and purposes, on August 5, for the first time in my life, I was pregnant. But I couldn’t say it. I just kept saying the embryos are inside, we’re going to have a baby. Cautiously optimistic, cautiously celebrating. More hopeful than I’ve ever been.

Elvis may be in the building.

Reacquainting with my Breasts

Thursday, August 13th, 2009

I’m like a horny 14-year-old boy over here! I cannot stop looking at my boobs. I’m fascinated. And I don’t think I could have even said that in 8th grade when they got here. People, they are huge!! And that’s saying something! I started noticing just before my egg retrieval, so I’m blaming it on all those hormone shots. Trying NOT to read anything in to it. But I swear every day it’s like something new all over again.

My bras don’t fit, but I feel like I should probably wait this out before I go drop a chunk of change on new bras.

I keep asking Shelton – is it my imagination? And he confirms that we’re experiencing a growth spurt.

A sign of good things to come???

Embryo News and Progesterone Shots

Tuesday, August 4th, 2009

If we’re still counting, it’s Day 22 since I started my first Lupron shot. However the counting has changed again. Now we’re at Day 2- which is the number of days the embryos have been alive. So I guess in a weird, twisted, technicality kind of way, this is day two of my pregnancy? OH DEAR GOD!

Embryos you say? Yes I say. We have embryos!!! For the first time in our lives, first time in our marriage, we’re able to say that! I called “M” at 11:02 a.m. yesterday, I didn’t want to appear to eager for the scheduled 11 a.m. call. She told me I was a rock star at egg retrieval and gave me these stats:

> 17 eggs retrieved
> 14 eggs mature
> 10 embryos

She told me I had ten little babies. And I cried. No one has ever said that to me before and I don’t think anything has ever put a smile on my face as quickly as that did. We did it!

I’ll find out later today when our embryo transfer will be. It looks like tomorrow or Friday; if I had to hedge my bets, I’d go with the latter.

I still felt pretty miserable from the egg retrieval yesterday. I even took a percoset, but that just coupled the pain with nausea and dizziness. It hurts to walk, it hurts to stand up straight, and it hurts to be in any position that isn’t “recline” or “flat.”

Last night was scheduled for my first progesterone shot. I’m been in AGONY over this injection! That needle is horrific – it’s an inch/ inch-and-a-half long. MAYBE A FOOT LONG! It’s thick too. All of this to push the progesterone in oil through my skin all the way into the muscle of my buttocks. No specified time was given for the injection, just that we needed to choose a time and stick to that. Being that we’ve been under house arrest for a couple weeks with the other IVF injections, and Shelton isn’t home until 10 p.m. on one night a week, we decided to make it a late shot. So at 10 o’clock last night, we fired it up. And, it wasn’t so terrible. My Menopur shots were far worse than this. Until about two o’clock this morning when I rolled over in bed and my left cheek wanted to stay right where it was. I can’t even sit on my left side today. And yippee, we’ll switch injection sides tonight so by tomorrow I won’t be able to sit down at all.

I think my sis-in-law was right, this is shaping up to be a ten-month pregnancy!

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Man Surgery Explained

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009

Shelton and I received our packet in the mail from his surgeon, the urologist, Dr. G., tonight. Inside was a stack of paperwork with instructions for the weeks and day leading up to his surgery. He can’t take anything that relieves pain, basically. No eating the night before. Abstinence for about five days prior. Pretty standard stuff. He and I both have required labs for HIV and Hepatitis that we’re taking care of on Monday.

I was kind of shocked to read that the surgery could take four hours. And the following conversation took place over dinner:

Me: Four hours is a long time. None of my surgeries ever took four hours.

Him: Take a lap top, you’ll be there for a while. This is going to suck balls.

Me: Ha… Ha…. you said suck balls. And your surgery will literally be…

Him: Nice one!

If you can’t have an immature puntastic laugh once in a while and share it with the Internet, what fun is this anyway?!

Here is my VERY layman’s attempt to explain the surgery. The purpose is to obtain the sperm, since they don’t have any other way out. (Basically has a natural vasectomy.) They’ll make a small incision in the aforementioned body part, insert a small “vacuum,” and draw out the sperm. A rep from the fertility clinic will be on hand to assess the quality of the sperm, and Shelton will remain “open” the entire time. They will not “close” until they are certain they have everything they need.

This will also be the first time we’ve ever seen his sperm sample, so fingers crossed we’ve got a few Michael Phelps swimmers in there!

Surgery takes place July 14; also that morning I take my very first shot of Lupron. What a really fun day that’s going to be!! Maybe we’ll go to Home Depot and Bed Bath and Beyond too if we have time!

In our original estimates, this surgery was supposed to cost us about $7,000 (out of pocket). The bill we received today (as everything has to be paid in advance) totals $4,467 (out of pocket). More unexpected savings making our total investment $3,000 less than originally expected.

See here for a running total of our IVF expenses.

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It Sucked and Then I Cried. And the Book Scared the Bazeezes out of Me!

Monday, March 30th, 2009

I regrettably don’t read as often as I’d like. In fact lately, I’ve literally been craving reading a book. Hard covers and greyed pages flipping between my fingers. So when I cracked the cover of ”It Sucked and Then I Cried“ yesterday afternoon, my brain felt like a dried-up sponge soaking in ever paragraph and syllable it could. Then seven hours later, I closed the back cover. I read that 250 page book in seven hours. I can be a voracious reader, when it’s something I’m interested in… or when my brain has been completely starved of something printed NOT on the Internet.

Heather Armstrong is the author, and I’ve been following her story for nearly five years with a level of stalking that is only legal when reading personal blogs. I’ve mentioned Dooce here before. She’s irreverent, brutally honest, her writing style enviable, and she makes me laugh. I’ve watched the growth of her site, and daughter, and become a huge fan, cheering her on as she becomes one of the most famous bloggers around. It makes about as much sense as how emotionally involved people become with reality TV stars. On a recent trip to Austin where I attended the SXSW conference for work, she spoke in a panel discussion about blogging on the morning of my last day. I’d waited the entire five days to see her speak, hoping I’d maybe bump into her in one of the hallway shuffles that felt like class getting out in a large, geeky high school. The guys I attended with teased me a bit as we sat behind her husband at the panel and I cooed over the “khaki trench coat maternity jacket she got at Target!”, defending that the only reason I knew that was because she’d blogged about it. Of course! I was thrilled to have the opportunity to meet her afterward, and she was generous enough to let the giddy twit in the second row take a photograph with her.

So, the book. One of the major themes of Heather’s story at Dooce.com has been her battle with post-partum depression following the birth of her daughter five years ago. She’s always been very open about it – about the fact that her depression lead her to some of the darkest places a mother can go. She checked herself into mental hospital after six months of sleep deprivation, feelings of hopelessness and throwing milk jugs at her husband’s head had finally taken its toll. This book is that story. I laughed out loud several times, often having to stop reading for a few minutes to catch my breath. And I only cried in the last couple of pages of the book. I loved the book – and yet it completely freaked me out. Talking about her insatiable craving for nacho cheese Doritos (which I love and God save the soul who doesn’t let me have any if that becomes my maternity craving!), her level two episiotomy, how her daughter NEV-ER wanted to sleep and her screams could wake coma patients, how she and her husband didn’t have sex for SEVEN MONTHS after they had the baby, and of course, the post-partum depression, it all left me wondering why I would voluntarily “do this” to myself.

It’s in those last few pages, when I eked out a few tears, that she reminds why I, and she, wanted to “do this” to ourselves. Heather is now six-months pregnant with another little girl and I’m really thrilled for her. I’m so hopeful that this time is different, that this time she and her husband are able to not only cope, but thoroughly enjoy the new little addition to their family. I appreciate books like hers. She didn’t sugar coat a damn thing. In fact, she brought up a lot of things about pregnancy and post-partum that most people avoid or just don’t talk about.

So, to say thank you – here’s a link to buy Heather’s book, “It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown and a Much Needed Margarita.” If you buy it from this link, Heather will get some cash to buy Doritos and margaritas, and 4% of the purchase will be a donation to BabyOrBust.com. Everyone wins!

False Hope

Monday, March 24th, 2008

I forgot to tell you…

In January I was experiencing tremendous abdominal pain. Immediately I thought, “here we go again!”. I wasn’t at all interested in another surgery for these friggin’ cysts. I rode it out a couple of days, but the pain was different, excruciating, but different. It was tucked up under my rib cage- it hurt to sit, walk, lie down, breathe, cough, on my side, standing- it just hurt.

Finally, Shelton insisted I make an appointment with the doctor. Our family doc, Dr. H, wasn’t available that day so I saw his P.A. I had never met this P.A., but he was likable right away. I explained the agony, my med history and my personal hypothesis for the problem. He asked if I could be pregnant. I laughed. He looked amused. I explained that unless God himself planted a baby in my womb that there was no way I was with child. Again, he looked curious. I explained. He thought my pain could be a few things, but wanted to rule out pregnancy for sure. I said why not.

It’s funny because the night before I was joking with Shelton- “what if I go in tomorrow and they tell me I’m pregnant?”. He told me he’d have a paternity test. (Insert lots of laughing)

So I took the pregnancy test and a bunch of other lab work. And then I sat in the waiting room for about 15 minutes. Suddenly my brain went to this strange little world of What If. “What if I’m pregnant? Is it possible? It’s possible. People tell me all the time stranger things have happened. Maybe one snuck through? I’m pregnant! Holy crap, how cool would it be to leave here and tell Shelton that I’m actually pregnant?” These hopeful, silent little ramblings went on inside my head until the nurse (the scary one) called my name to return. He told me I wasn’t pregnant.

Really? I do not have a medical degree and I could have/did tell/told you that. But thanks for the past 15 minutes and the swarm of butterflies that have taken flight in my digestive region. I guess we saved a few hundred dollars on a paternity test.

Nothing was wrong with me- the pain went away… by the way.