The Hulk In Me...

It's ironic that I don't often deal with anger: I was born on the day that a volcano erupted, so it only seems natural that I would have "fiery" tendencies. But it's just not in my nature--sure, I get upset/sad/mad, but rarely angry.

So right now is one of those rare times. I have to say, I've calmed down quite a bit, but as I begin this post I can feel it bubbling, rising and turning me into the mean green machine. (I really am wearing green today...)

I am not going to tread lightly through this post. Be forewarned: I AM ANGRY! I will get the apologies out of the way now: I am in no way taking this out on anyone, (esp. my recent cycle sistas) so please know that I am placing no blame.

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Thursday was rough. Really, really rough...as I said before, no matter how much you prepare yourself for that phone call, it's just earth-shattering. It's the point of no return. You can hope and pray and wish until that very last moment. And then it's gone...

It was so final. No more embryos. No more shots. No more pills. As I am sure many of you do, you begin to get into a medicine routine, so when 8:30pm came Thursday night, we just sat there and the sound of the clock in our living room was the loudest silence I have ever heard. Mook was so upset--he was blaming himself, which we quickly addressed and agreed we needed to support each other: we couldn't grieve properly if we were isolating ourselves. I tend to isolate myself because of the feeling that it's my responsibility to nurture and care for the embryos once they are inside my body-and by getting a BFN, I view it as solely my failure. That's why I am so glad we have been able to find such a great counselor-it really helped us "focus" our grief, if that makes sense?

And then the anger came. My anger. I was yet again on the bad side of the statistics. Two great FET cycle sistas (Jen & Bleu) went through the week with me--we all had the same beta day. I was the one who ended up with a BFN. Even as I type this I have feelings of guilt for even expressing this type of anger, but it really has had a grip on me. Yet again, I was left out. Why the hell was I left out? Why are we being put through this? Why on the same day that we grieve, Mook's best friend and his wife tell us they are pregnant. Why do I have to watch my husband crumble? Am I not meant to be a mother? It all makes me angry!

It sounds strange: but part of my way of coping with the anger the past few days has been to scour blogs that I read, and blogs that I may not have read before: blogs like mine. When I say like mine, I mean not pregnant. I needed to justify in my mind that I am not the only one out there who isn't. The list of "The Other Side of IF" on my blogroll made me dizzy. It just proves how this is such an emotional mind game. I wouldn't want to wish this infertility struggle on anyone, but to know that I am not the only one...honestly, it makes me feel good. And that makes me angry that these two emotions are related in this way-it shouldn't have to be like that. But I have felt the need to rely on the strength in numbers-can you relate?

It has been so hard to read any "good" news...and I hate that. It makes me feel so exposed-like everyone who is reading that blog is looking at me thinking "what are you doing here, you don't belong." My comments have been sparse because I feel like I'm faking it. And that makes me angry.

So the hulk in me has been an unwanted presence. I don't like it-and I'm working towards prying its grip off of me. But in a way, I'm not ready to let go of it just yet. In a way, it's fueling me to keep going: to keep my goal in sight.

I got to talk about the goal today during my follow up. Oh what joy it would bring if you could go in to a follow up and have solid answers. I remember being naive and thinking that last time I had a follow up that it would somehow give me THE answers. Not so. And it was the same this time....just "We are so sorry..." and "Let's talk about what could happen..." I didn't really get any answers that I couldn't have figured for myself. I do appreciate my RE though--he spent a long time talking with me and going over all my questions.

Bottom line: he thinks we are good candidates for another round of IVF. He does think we need to incorporate PGD. He agreed to take a full blood panel on me today (7 vials-ouch!) to rule out clotting/natural killer cells, etc. Mook and I need as much info as possible to go forward with any decision, so to have at least one more piece of the puzzle figured out brings us peace of mind.

I don't have any other answers right now. I don't know what our next steps will be--I know that we both need some mental clarity. I look back on this time last year when we had just found out about the road ahead--my spirit was still so hopeful and bright. Today if feels angry and heavy. I want my spirit back...

We continue to be so incredibly grateful for the support we receive here...to read each and every comment makes us feel like we were getting a giant hug. Thank you so much! I'm anxious to feel more like myself again...so bear with me as I get back up to speed. You can't get rid of me that easy... ;0)

Play it again, Sam...

Same tune, different day.

*Sigh* I wish I could say it gets easier, but it doesn't. I think I was more mentally prepared this time, but no matter how much I prepared myself for that phone call, it still made my heart lurch into my throat...

Thank you for all the wonderful, positive thoughts you all have been sending our way. It breaks my heart that I just had to call Mook and tell him: I can feel the sadness-he wants so much to be my rock, but really-how can either of us be the strong ones in this type of situation?

I went ahead and scheduled a follow up with the doc for next week--we're not ready to decide what we will do next right now, but we will spend as much time in that office that we need to feel like we are getting the information we need to move on...

We need to be handled with care right now--please continue those positive thoughts for us...we just want to get on the path that will lead to us becoming parents.

"Baby, was Cold Outside"

This is your late afternoon weather update from the Mook perspective. Today was a brisk, bitter cold day with the wind blowing at high speed and a nasty front coming from the southwest. Things were no warmer inside at the RE's office. The aforementioned totcicles, (see previous posts), were beginning their de-eskimoing...

Of the three arctic wanderers, two survived the journey and posed for a quick snapshot (meet Chilly and Willy), then onward to a warm yet quick spa treatment. JJ and I headed back to greet the little fellas in the torture -table room..."where the magic happens." I have to say that I am certainly glad I never went to med school to become a doctor. I would still be trying to pass the class on reading an ultrasound. I couldn't tell one grey/black blob from another; and it definitely didn't help me to figure it out when they keep moving it around; "Does this angle look better?" Ummmm, no, its the same. But whatever, as long as they knew what was going on and my JJ was comfy, I was good too.

So once the docs identified whatever it was they were attempting to point out to me, they proceeded with the slip and slide action. I have to admit, this whole process still blows my mind. I mean, I know that years and years of study in human anatomy come into play but its really like this group of random doctors just had some bendy straws and spare time and said, "What the hell! Let's try this."

Everything went extremely well with the procedure. JJ was a trooper despite her full bladder, which if there are any guys that might be reading this, there is no fury in the world like a woman who has to pee. Life lesson learned...don't try to distract her, it only makes it worse.

After the "mass relief," we headed home to plop JJ down on the couch for some rest and relaxation. I'll toot my own horn and confess to making every attempt at keeping her happy and comfortable for the day. Hopefully, I made that a reality.

Now its the waiting game once again. You'd think we would be getting good at this game...but we suck. I do want to thank everyone on the blogosphere for all of the kind words and thoughts as we journey through this craziness. It is really inspiring to read words of encouragement and know that other people can empathize with this up hill battle to save the human race. ;)

All about the buttox

One of the greatest lines from one of my favorite movies, Forres.t Gu.mp:

"Oh, yes sir. Bit me right in the buttocks. They said it was a million dollar wound, but the army must keep that money 'cause I still haven't seen a nickel of that million dollars."

I think of that quote every time Mook comes at me with a needle. All this IF stuff can cost a pretty penny, AND the reward (in theory) is obviously worth even more than a million dollars, but like Forrest: I'm still waiting on that end prize....

And as of this morning, I have a million dollar wound on my right cheek. Prog. injections began last night--so that leads me to tell you that my monitoring appointment yesterday went really well.
My lining at day 14 was 13.6--my fav nurse said that they consider anything at 6 good, so my lining got an A+! And to me the best news was that I had no cysts--so thankful for that! She was pretty sure based on my lining that all the hormones would check out OK--and I had to wait until the end of the day to find out! Oooo agony! My prog level was 0.27, so I definitely had not ovulated. My estridol was 427--and I forgot to ask if that was good, but she didn't indicate otherwise, so there ya have it.

Transfer will be on Wed. the 16th at 11AM. Please, pretty please, I ask for your prayers and thoughts for a good thaw! We have 3 on ice, and I would be so grateful if all 3 made it...that is what I am most anxious about right now. Hoping that I don't get a call that we have to cancel...so all positive thoughts from here on out--will ya help me? Annnnd, since Chas reminded me that its another de-lurk day, I could use all the positive feedback as you can muster! Won'tcha be my neighbor by de-lurking?


So back to the buttox...actually 2 buttoxi (sounds like a good plural version to me)...Mook and I have been spending more time focusing on our couch time--this involves us taking our buttoxi to sit with a counselor. We made the leap-a leap that was a tough place to get to, but I honestly can say that after only one session with her, Mook and I have changed our conversation habits for the better. I am SO thankful for that. I don't think we, as couples, realize the FULL impact infertility can have in all areas of our relationship--and things have surfaced that we may never have had reason to talk about otherwise, so it's amazing how Mook and I are trying to strengthen our relationship in all areas. The past month was tough, ladies and gents. We needed some major re-adjustments, and I am happy to say, we are definitely on our way...

One more butt-related note. Mook is a tiny bit out of practice when it comes to jabbing me...so my love, this is for you--If you need to print it out and bring it home for tonight's jab, by all means!

And the thought that will continue to go through my head for the next 2 1/2 weeks, is something Mook said to our fur-baby last night: "Mommy's gonna get pregnant next week..."

A clean car equals a BFP?

Has a nice ring to it, no? I wonder what kind of goo.gle searches I'll get from that title...and what a positive title for my first post of 2008! Every little bit can help...

Winter temperatures have had a tight grip on those of us below the Mas.on-Dix.on line...and squeezed us a little too hard last week and we lost power for about 24 hours. Now folks like us don't like to be too cold, ya'll. So when the temps dip, the thermostat goes UP-and apparently the power supply couldn't quite handle all our cold footsies. Our home-sweet-home got so cold the morning of sans-power/heat, that I got to take my fur-baby to work with me--what an adventure! But she loved it--and she was SO good. What a well behaved child I have! I was lucky that my place of employment was understanding and gracious. We did not get power back until the wee hours of the next morning, so Mook and I dragged out the sleeping bags and blankets and cuddled up next to our gas fire place-thank goodness for that! I think God has a way of knowing when people need a reminder to re-connect and get back to basics--and that's just what this night did for us: no TV, computer, or other distractions. We played games, laughed and cuddled...and made the best out of our frigid night!

However, those frigid temps made a quick exit just in time for the weekend! That led me to drag out the bucket, sponges and cleaners--my car has not had a thorough cleaning since July. Now before you make an "ewwww" face-I have been a good environmentalist and obeyed our water-restrictions since August. Our state has been in severe drought, and I didn't think that washing my car was a high priority when we werent sure we'd have fresh water coming out of our taps. So with the recent lift on the restrictions and warm temps, I knew that this was the perfect time to take care of Ox (her name is after Babe the Bl.ue Ox)

But in July when Ox got "the works" was the week before our embryo transfer--funny how I even remember that...but I do. I remember driving the hour back from the clinic, lying flat in the back seat looking out the window to a cloudless sky--feeling so hopeful. And I remember the smell of my clean car. I remember thinking about putting car seats into the backseat where I was lying-how so much would be different come April. I remember looking so fondly to the front seat where Mook was driving-he was being so careful so that he wouldn't hit any bumps to upset Pearl and Jam. I remember the clean floor mats-they still had "vacuum lines" on them...

So on Sunday, there I was 6 months later...sitting in my front seat with tears streaming down my face because the smell of car-cleaners brought back a flood of memories....and here we are about to go through another transfer. My mind was all over the place: what if I wash the windows different this time? What if I vacuum only the front seat? What if, what if, what if....?
Then a song came on the radio as I sat in my daze..."Stron.ger" by Kanye W.est--and it was an instant jolt of adrenaline: I kept repeating the lyrics over and over again: "That, that don't kill me, can only make me stronger." (the hip-hop lover in me coming out!)

I finished cleaning my car with a smile on my face--I may not be able to change the course of our FET outcome with a clean car, but it sure does feel good to have cleansed not just my "ride" but my mental state!




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More soon on results of my appt. this coming Thurs, and Mook's and my steps towards healthier couch-time.