It Takes Two to Tango? Try Six...

This morning was IUI transfer day, take 3! Alarm at 5:20am, J's contribution at 7am, time for breakfast in between, the transfer at 9am. I was home to walk the doggie by 10:10.

The normal math of having a baby is pretty basic: 1+1=3. Being infertile, however, math never works the way it's supposed to. I had to laugh this morning when I was up on the table, naked legs spread-eagled and there were 4 of us in the small little mood-lit room. One of the techs remarked, "Don't they say it takes a village?" just as I was saying "How many people does it take to have a baby?"

Today, there were six of us: me, J, the andrologist Edde, the tech who measured my lining again, the nurse who did my transfer and the nurse who was training her. But how can you leave Dr. M out of it? Or our nurse who just left the practice and talked me through all of the protocols? Or our new nurse who is such a ray of sunshine?? That's nine folks, there. That number doesn't include some of the nurses who have filled in "ad hoc" like Carolyn and Sara or the tech in Denver who always does my ultrasounds, Jessica. Twelve. Really?

I suppose when all is said and done in two weeks, maybe there is no baby and so counting up how many people were directly involved today is kinda silly. On the other hand, I just have this *feeling* like this could actually be the one. There's just this pervasive feeling in me this afternoon that the stars are all aligning. 

Hopefully next week I'll be starting a contract position with a great company that I'm pretty fired up about. I hope that will set my mind at ease about my professional situation. And the reason I needed so many people this morning to help with the IUI is because of my wonky cervix. I've had a total of 5 procedures that involved a catheter going through the cervix and this was the only one that didn't hurt like hell. The nurse was super gentle and slow and the observing nurse brought the tech back in to ultrasound my belly so that there was visual guidance for the catheter. It went in so smoothly and I got to see onscreen the transfer of J's little soldiers straight into my uterus. So neat! There's just something about that moment that irrationally makes me feel like this must be it. Maybe a year from now, it will actually be just two to tango, plus a little one asleep in the nursery ;)

This could be my new math lesson: 1+1+4=3

Never Out Of The Woods....

Damn. Just when you think everything is moving on the right track and you're good as gold, synthetic hormones rear their ugly heads.

It was just hours ago that I was feeling super optimistic and hopeful about this cycle. And then I went in for the post-Clomid follicle check. 

<crash>

As I mentioned, my dose was doubled this cycle to 100mg in hopes of higher egg recruitment. Didn't do much... My largest follicle is measuring 18.9mm and the next two, in the left ovary that loves to ride the short bus, are measuring 14mm and 11.2mm. And my uterine lining, which normally measures in the mid 8cm in thickness (very good) is only measuring 6cm today (unacceptable). 

Translation?

This double dose feels like a complete waste. It didn't do what it was meant to do in terms of egg recruitment and it thinned my lining to a point that requires me to load up on another synthetic hormone. Now I have an rx for 4mg of estradiol each day. My insurance company initially denied coverage on the prescription and then the pharmacist had to override their judgement in order to fill it for me and additionally expressed concern over the higher-than-normal dosage. We only had about $450 left in our FSA account last I checked which I expected to just about cover this last cycle. But going on the estradiol with such a thin lining means that I need an additional ultrasound before IUI trigger and transfer. So, an extra $180 out of pocket gets thrown at this. 

Fuck off, man. Acupuncture Jane, help me out!

Double Down on the Emotions Part Deux

Oh, Sunshine & Rainbows!

What a turn the day made. Number 1: we got our shipment of wine from the little family vineyard we visited in Napa last month, Bremer. They make the most fabulous wines, oh yesyesyes!

Number 2 requires a quick backstory. Last weekend we needed to go to the Lone Tree branch of CCRM for me to do my cyst check and bloodwork and we had the sweetest most enthusiastic nurse meet with us. I actually told J after we left that if we move to that area some time soon, I would request her as our nurse. Our current nurse is, well, clinical, and not very personable but I thought it would be a karmic no-no to request another nurse. She gets the job done just fine, being the conduit between Dr. M and us.

So I was in the midst of a nice, relaxing yoga session when my phone rang. I don't get many calls these days so I picked it up and SO glad I did! It was our CCRM nurse calling to let me know she'd taken a new position at the university and so our case would be transferred to another nurse. Well, wouldn't ya know, we're being transferred to the awesome nurse from last weekend! I'll call her Lana. She's awesome and I'm so pumped. Turns out, Lone Tree was just her weekend assignment.

Just the good news I needed. It feels like such a good omen. This cycle has to be a good one.

Double Down on the Emotional Rollercoaster

Long time no see, huh? See... the thing is... everything was feeling really stable for a while there. I felt like I was on a really good track going the natural route. And then the Clomid hit.

Well I guess that sounds misleading. Rewind the tape. Go back about 5 weeks. We visited friends in Cali (with a side trip to Napa, woo!) and while we visited this super sweet family with two little boys and a brand new house, I started my CD1. Yep, blood in the panties (ugh, what a gross word, panties, makes my arm hair stand up). Given our surroundings at the time, I guess J and I got to feeling antsy so I made the phone call to CCRM on Monday saying that I'd like to go for another Clomid cycle. A day later, I went for my cyst check, was obviously all clear, and started up the same 50mg clomiphene prescription. The IUI was relatively uneventful and the following two weeks were equally uneventful. I   knew before the two week wait was over that the only thing I was waiting for was the dreaded period. But, lord, did that motherhecker hold out on me. I spotted for 4 days before it finally came through. When I called CCRM to report my CD1 (again) and schedule a cyst check (again), I learned that Dr. M wanted me to try this final IUI cycle with 100 mg.

So we're doing a big, bad double down on the Clomid. In the real-life world, I've had massive drama with my brother; a big fight with my mom due to the drama with brother; we adopted a puppy; I interviewed for a job, got the offer and turned it down; we fell in love with a house, put in an offer, won the bid, and then were told 20 minutes later the other buyers outbid us; ate and drank plenty of things I shouldn't have; and my dad was in a car accident (dad is fine, car is totaled).

ohmigosh.breathe

Through all of that, I frequently found myself thinking, "Gosh you're handling this well. Prior to the acupuncture and yoga biz, you'd be flipping out right now!" Welp! It took me a solid 2+ months to get on that straight & steady track and took 2 days of Clomid for all that hard work to unravel. I just totally fell apart last night. Looking back, I don't even know what the catalyst was. I recall going into the bathroom to get ready for bed and just staring a myself in the mirror. I felt overwhelmed by a feeling of worthlessness, hopelessness. Cognitively, I knew there was a lot of blame to be placed on the medication, but that surely didn't stop the tears from coming on hard and fast. It's hard to shake the feeling of failure when you believe you're doing everything you can and still finding no success. Helpless.

And then there was the episode (two episodes, coughcough) of Transparent on Amazon Prime that had me choking back tears this morning. Oy. But there was going to be a peak to match my low, dark valley! Two bright spots in my day were on the way...