The Wait...again

So like I have said before, the hardest part of this whole process is the waiting. Little did I know that all those times before when I prayed for patience, God was saying, "You have no idea what you are asking for...." because boy, was he getting ready to teach me. Although I don't feel like all this waiting has really taught me any more patience, it still drives me completely bonkers. After the transfer, I went home and got in bed for three days of bedrest. The first day, me and bed rest were friends, but the second I was not so excited, and the third, I was totally losing it. I had never ached from being in bed before. Stupid thing to complain about at this point, but nonetheless it was trying. Especially when you have to wonder the entire time what the heck was going on inside you. I started to analyze everything...was that something? No, just gas. I nearly had a panic attack when I sneezed on the second day. I would stare for periods of forever at my little picture of our embryos, but didn't dare let myself imagine what they would look like or what we would name them. I was still getting over the soreness of the retrieval and I think I watched about every movie in our local "red box".

I had secretly already stacked up on pregnancy tests, because I just knew I was going to be "that person". I had read that by 5 days after the transfer, all the hcg I had injected would be gone and I could legitimately test. Well, I couldn't wait that long. Staying true to my very impatient self, I tested at day 4. It was completely negative and no matter how long I stared, a line just would not form. "Okay, I told myself, this is a good sign, all the hcg is out of my system...If I get a positive from here on out, I am definitely pregnant.

So I tested that afternoon, the next morning, and every half day up to my blood test. That is a lot of tests!!!!

The Transfer and feeling prayers

My embryo transfer was scheduled for a Sunday. We got up early, I couldn't sleep very well anyway from being so excited, and hit the road. We got behind the slowest old lady driver on the face of the planet. She actually braked when someone approached us from the other lane. So after a few expletives from my road raging husband, I decided it was the perfect time to take the Valium they prescribed. We both were so nervous and spun up at that moment I think we drove it mostly silence. When we got to the office, they were ready for us and I went straight back. This time, I could put my hospital gown on with great comfort, opening in the back, and I went into the room and got on the table. The nurse came in and said Don had put the scrubs over his street clothes so she had to make him go back and strip and put new scrubs on. He came in and stood beside me. They told me I had to have a full bladder so I had drank a 32 oz of powerade on the way in, and I was already feeling it. They checked out my bladder to make sure I wasn't faking it, and the embryologist came in to show us our "family portrait". She had a picture of all of our little embryos. On the way over, Don and I had the conversation about what we would do if it came down to us deciding if it was one or two that would go back in. We had talked about it so much, but I wanted to make sure we both had the same plan because we had gone back and forth. Don had initially wanted twins. That way he wasn't any older when we had the second one, and we could totally get in on a Buy one get one. But after talking to the doctor about how the risk doubles for both the babies and the Mom with twins, he said the goal of IVF is a single birth and at my age that is what they would recommend if we had a clearly strong embryo. So as my Valium kicked in, we decided that if we had a clear front runner, I mean the best of the best, we would go with one, and if not, we would just know. Maybe it was the Valium, but I just had a feeling that we would know what to do, that God would make it clear to us. Because, secretly, I wanted two. So as she was showing us the picture of all of the fifteen embryos, she showed us the ones that had not made it. I silently said a little prayer of sadness for those little ones. Then we saw the best of the best. It was a grade 4AA which was the highest possible grade you can have. She had even put a little reaffirming check by it. The doc said, this embryo is so great we recommend just one. Don and I looked at each other remembering what we had said and we agreed. So everyone got in position. Doc looked like a catcher waiting for the embryologist to throw the first pitch. Then, a pause....She needed to speak to the doctor in private. Oh no.....something is wrong...we thought. When they came back in, she had a new picture. This one had two embryos on it. One looked a little smaller than the other. She said she had something to explain to us, which was very hard to understand in her thick asian accent. She said that the smaller one was actually our frontrunner, the embryo we decided was going in by itself. But when she took a picture of it for us, it had collapsed a little. She said 70% chance it was a good thing. Apparently when the embryo is getting ready to hatch it balls up to gather its energy and expands out of the shell. She said this was good. OR it could be collapsing because it was dying. She said she went on this hunch with two other women in the past and she was wrong. The other embryo in the picture was a 4BB and was our second best. She now recommended putting back both of them. Just in case..... Don and I looked at each other, like, I know we talked about this, but are we ready for twins?!?!? But at the same time I think we both felt a peace about it, like it was meant to be. She was meant to see that in the picture at that exact second, and if we had twins, it was just God's will that we have them. So, since they were waiting for "our final answer" like we were about to win a million dollars if we said the right thing, I said "Twins it is!". So doc got back in catching position and embryologist went back to the pitcher's mound. I closed my eyes and prayed and felt Don do it too. He leaned over me and kissed me on the forehand and we both shared a tear. This was the moment we had been waiting for. After this, we had done everything we physically and possibly could do and it was left to the Big Man from there. They placed them in their new little home through a catheter, and there they were on the ultrasound screen - shining fluorescent. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Others say it is important to have positive visualizations while you wait, so here is what I pictured. My tiny tiny babies in feety pajamas float into their new room for the next nine months. There is a plush pallette of down comforters and the softest blankets imaginable. They cuddle together and snuggle under the blankets for a long nap. Snug as two bugs in a rug. At the same time, I felt this overwhelming feeling of peace and comfort. Turns out, my Sunday School class, who happens to be taught by my Dad, gathered at 10:00am (the time of our appointment) and collectively prayed for us and our babies. I can't explain how much this meant to me, even when I did now know it. Prayer truly works and I hope I have the opportunity to be a testimony to that when we get our results. Until then we keep praying, and I keep saying to myself..."Snug as two bugs in a rug"

Violet Beauregard without the oompa loompa's

I always wondered what it would be like to be Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka. You know, how would it feel to become a human blueberry? I think I can really sympathize with her now. I feel like her except in a very pale shade of white. I do feel a little better today, but yesterday boy oh boy... I've always wondered how they took care of ole' violet. Apart from being swollen like a beached whale, I am feeling a little better everyday. Seems like I am trying to rush that so I am ready for Sunday. I am sooooooooo excited. Just think...on Sunday, I will be pregnant until otherwise proven by the blood test. Wow. What a journey. I did take a little tiny sneek peek today at some cool websites for nursery ideas. Too early? Maybe. I am very ashamed that I was unable to button my jeans this morning, so I wore sweatpants to work. Granted it is a Friday, but shame, shame, shame. Hopefully I can get rid of enough bloat to fit into my regular clothes. It's bad to look pregnant before you even are :) Oh well, just another thing. Waiting to hear today how my little embies are doing. Today would have been the three day transfer if they weren't looking so hot, so just that I am transferring Sunday is a good sign!

Egg Retrieval - Just call me the Cadbury Bunny :)

So two days ago I had my egg retrieval. One of the three most important dates in this long process of invitro (transfer, and test being the other two). But this was my moment to shine, and I feel pretty darn proud of myself for my contribution. It was severely storming here on Tuesday as we made our way over to the lab at 6:00am. When we got there we had to wait awkwardly in the room with another husband and his mother. I was just waiting for them to call Don or the other husband back to the "sample" room so we could all be really uncomfortable, but I was luckily spared from this. We anxiously waiting for about 30 minutes until the anesthesiologist called me back. He took me to this tiny room and handed me tiny robe and blue socks and told me to get undressed and crack the door so that he would know I was finished. So I did and I tried to put the robe on with the opening in the front (which made more sense to me at the time) but it completely did not cover me up. I thought, oh man, does the opening go in the front or back? And why was it so small!?!? So I cracked the door and stuck my head out to take a peek to ask him, and he wasn't there. No one was there. So I stood there for a second and decided to make a last second switch and put the opening in the back. I tied the ties as tight as I could, but I could feel the breeze and knew that all mankind would see my butt if I walked out of the room. I slipped on the socks that had the no slip grippers on the bottom like feety pajamas have and cracked the door. I stood there rethinking my decision to put the opening in the back, since I could no longer control what was showing back there and there he was....waiting for me to walk ahead of him. Great I have to walk ahead of him, no shame no gain right? Well, at this point, after showing my hoohah to everyone that works at the clinic in some form or fashion, does it really matter if they see the back view? Anyway, so they lay me on this table that (very unfortunately) reminded me of the table that they strap someone down to do lethal injections on. They strapped my legs and arms in while the anesthesiologist made a joke about needing to strap me down so that I didn't help and he started an IV and about five seconds later the room started spinning. Right before I went to sleep the embryologist introduced herself to me as our first babysitter. I thought that was kind of cute. I felt the need to announce that I was about to go out, so I did and thats all I remember about that. When I woke up the first thing I said was "how many eggs did we get?" And they told me, and then she said I asked another four times. I was in some major pain, and very grumpy all the sudden so I just decided to keep my mouth shut. Don helped me to the truck and we drove home, feelin every little bump. I was in some major pain. Apparently I had over 35 follicles that they drained, getting 20 eggs. The procedure that normally took 15 min took 45 min with me. They were very afraid I would become very ill with OHSS (ovary hyper stimulation syndrome) since I had so many follicles. I went straight to bed for the rest of the day. Apart from having a major cold sweat meltdown (due to the anesthesia I am guessing), and the extreme soreness I was doing ok. Okay, except for the fact that my loving husband, who makes me laugh constantly, was really trying to make me feel better by trying to get me to laugh which really hurt. If you have ever seen "Swamp People", Don does the best impression of Troy (which we dub "fat tongue"). And while any other time his impression would have brightened my day, that day it just hurt. One of my best friends brought us some supper and my parents came over with my niece and nephew which was nice. The next day, and five pounds of bloating later, I got up at 8 am, which was really not good, because it made for long day of "A Baby Story", "I didn't know I was pregnant", and "Teen Mom", that I really just didn't need to subject myself to. I mean really, how could you not know you were pregnant. Geez. I got a call from the doctors office with the 24 hour fertilization report saying that they had some great news. Fifteen embryos had fertilized. Fifteen! Wow.....Could some be our babies? It was a wonderfully strange thought. I found myself being sad for the five that didn't make it, but the nurse said not all fifteen would make it to Sunday either which was why it was good we had so many. The nurse asked about whether I was in a lot of pain and I told her my symptoms. Tenderness in the abdomen, major bloating, major soreness. She said all of these were normal because they stuck me over 35 times (how many times did they stab Caesar?) and some were because of OHSS which will only get worse if I get pregnant. Apparently the only way to get rid of OHSS is to get your period or after the 8th week of pregnancy. Neither or good, but I would take the latter over the former. What's another 8 weeks of being uncomfortable? She said salty foods would help so I am eating as much as I can stomach, and hoping to get rid of as much fluid before Sunday. So the transfer is now planned for Sunday with bedrest for three days. Then comes the dreaded two week wait until we know if we are sucessful. Waiting? Again?!?!?! Seriously...

Yowza! - Egg retrieval and Jabba the Hut

So I am definitely feeling like somewhere between these two and have been since Saturday. I went to the doc every day this weekend and he measured and took blood everyday. Before my veins collapsed and ran in fear from the needles, my last estradiol (estrogen level) measured over 5,000. The nurse was looking at me like I should be in tears or having a hormonal meltdown, but I felt relatively good from all that. I am, however, so bloated that I am walking like I am already pregnant, and joked with the doctor that if I sneezed I felt like I would drop an ovary :). He didn't think it was as funny as I did, but hey, I gotta laugh at this point. The doc measured about 25 follicles and couldn't even get to all them they were so scrunched up in there. I am hoping it will be a great release to have all of them drained.

At this point, I am so ready to get the show on the road. I gave myself the "trigger" shot last night at 6:45pm so the egg retrieval will be tomorrow at 6:15am. They are afraid I will be overstimulated, which can make me pretty sick, so they told me to eat and drink as much sodium as I can to help with the fluid. After spending a lifetime trying to avoid high sodium foods, I was ignorant to which ones to look towards. I thought of pickles at lunchtime and had a guy I work with bring me back some. (He told the cafeteria person he was pregnant when she gave him a funny look after he ordered 10 pickles) And I might as well have an IV hookup of powerade as much as I am drinking. Hopefully enough salt ingested to scare away even the little Morton's girl with the yellow umbrella and any hope of OHSS. Praying all goes well tomorrow :)

Hopped up on Hormones

Before this whole IVF process, I probably couldn't tell you where on my body my ovary was. I mean, I knew, of course, that it was in the nether region, but that was pretty much it. It was enough knowing I had them. Who would have thought I would actually feel them, and boy do I.

I am completely hopped up on a large amount of hormones right now. I added two shots to the first shot and have been doing those since Saturday. The books and the doctors warned me about a plethura of side effects, but I think I am doing a pretty good job of holding on so far. my estrogen level went from 52 on Friday to 1757 as of this morning, the "normal" woman never gets above 200. The whole point of these hormones is to make me produce several eggs instead of the one we all normally produce every month. Well the ultrasound this morning said I had over 22 follicles (little sacs filled with fluid that hold the eggs). So despite feeling like a free range chicken with all these eggs, I am excited about that.

Doc says that everything looks great, but he is worried I might be overstimulated. Ya think?!?! If I truly am, it could make me very sick so he is backing down my meds. He had told Don that the most painful part of this process for him would be this time frame, because of my moods. I don't really feel all that different. I haven't gotten weepy or completely witchy yet...yet being the operative word :)

My Kindred Spirit in the Bible

I have always felt a kindred spirit with Sarah in the Bible. When I was little it was because we shared the same name and as I grew older I felt we had the same personality. Little did I know how very similar our lives would be. Sarah and I were both always getting ourselves into pickles that only God could sort out. Not many people know that in her first appearance in the Bible she had to pretend to be Abraham’s (her husband) sister so that the Pharoah would not kill Abraham and take her as his wife. Turns out, he took her anyway. God sent a plague to punish Pharoah and she got away. This happened not only with that guy, but also with Abimelech. God told him in a dream that she was really Abraham’s wife and he gave her back…with presents! First two pickles and God sorted it all out. Now to the story everyone knows as interpreted by me: There Sarah is 65 years old having lived a very eventful life being married to one of God’s good guys Abraham, or as I like to call him, Abe. She now has everything she ever dreamed of, beautiful house, great husband, but no kids. This presents a dilemma not because she wants them, but also because God had promised her husband that he himself would populate a whole nation. Well, after ten years, and being the control freak that she most certainly was, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She gave her husband her maid to sleep with so they could have a child. Wow….great thinking on her part. Well he did and the maid had a child. Sarah got really jealous and sent the maid with her son away. I can only imagine what ole Abe’s household was like during those days!

So years later, and I love how the Bible skips years so you can fill in the gaps in your head; I am thinking there were many a fight, many tears, many depressions in those years. I bet she even packed her stuff to leave a few times. I can’t wait to ask her when I meet her. Anyway, so by this time she is 90 and Abraham is polishing off a century, and I am sure she has completely given up on her dream. One day, three guys stopped by their house, and being the good hostess she was, she went in the kitchen to cook for them. Being a little nosy herself, she listened in on what the guys were discussing. I can picture her there with cornbread in the oven and her ear to the door. They actually told Abe that Sarah would conceive a child. She did exactly what I would have done in that situation: She burst into laughter, truly I Love Lucy style no doubt. They said in a year she would have a baby. Seriously! She was old and she had given up on all that. I mean honestly, was this just a ridiculous joke? But guess what…despite her doubt, and despite her mistrust in God’s promise, she had little Isaac a year later. Classic Sarah story, and by Sarah I mean me (hopefully).

Quiet before the storm...or storm before the quiet...

The appointment for the baseline was promised to be uneventful to make sure everything was “quiet” before we started. Quiet before the storm. Don needed to work that day so I told him I could go by myself. He had been there with me every appointment until then. Again, my doctor wasn’t there doctor that did our IUI (now known as the “bearer of bad news”) came in. She was chipper as a bird until she saw the cyst. Duh, Dum, Duh! There it was, a big fat 2 cm cyst of my right ovary, that I vaguely had remembered seeing when we did the IUI. Her face dropped, and it looked like she was about to cry. “What’s the big deal?” I thought. She apologized and whispered to the nurse about why my doc had not run a certain test. She turned around like she was about to tell me I had cancer and said we had to put off the cycle until we could figure out what it was. What do you mean what it was? It was nothing…right? They mumbled some more stuff about what it could be, I heard possible two week delay, more tests, possible drainage. They looked at me like I should burst into tears. I didn’t understand. They took some blood and said they would call me with instructions. When I got back to my car, I called Don and as soon as I heard his voice I did burst into tears. “I don’t understand what is wrong, why is this happening to us, why does this have to be so hard, why do we have to wait again….” , and down it went from there. Poor Don on the other line had no clue what hit him. I know he felt helpless, asking if he should come get me. After my pity party died down I told him I would be okay and that I was going to take the rest of the day off and shop to busy my mind. One foot in front of the other, Sarah, one foot in front of the other. Trust the doctors and trust God’s will.

So I went in that Wednesday with Don for yet another test, and for them to drain the cyst. The doctor and nurse tried to talk me out of it. Yes it would probably be best for the process, but it would be very painful. They would basically perform an egg retrieval without the anesthesia. I am tough, I thought, so if it was an option between the everloving waiting or pain, at this point, I would take the pain. They gave me a percoset to “take the edge off”, and proceeded to use an 18 gauge needle through my uterus into my ovary to suck out the juice. The needle was not nice, but I was okay until the fourth time he tried to draw back on the needle and I screamed. It felt like a knife severing my inside and sucking them out. It was probably the worst pain I have ever felt, even if it was for a minute. The worst of all is that he couldn’t get anything from it. Nuttin’ honey. He apologetically said it must be solid, like I knew what that meant. On the verge of tears I asked if this was bad or good. He said it was probably good……maybe…which, by now I realize, really means he has no idea.

After the whole cyst fiasco, they decided to start me on my “protocol” anyway. So I began the Lupron injections on a Sunday before church. Don got up with me and watched me do it. I know he really wanted to help. The injections are no big deal, and each day I mark off on the calendar of meds and count the days left until the action. That is where I am now. Waiting again… Tomorrow I am scheduled to have an ultrasound. I had a dream they did the ultra sound and the cyst took up the entire screen. I am hoping and praying it is gone altogether.

Needles, needles, and more needles

To start the IVF process, the doctor put me on birth control pills for a month. When the month was nearing an end, they called us in for our injection classes and to get our schedule. The first needle the nurse showed us was really no big deal. I had spent ten years of my life being poked and prodded with needles during my bout with rheumatoid arthritis and had grown accustomed to giving myself shots. The second and third needles were okay, but when she showed me the final needle I found it hard to swallow. I had never seen a needle so large, and when she informed me that I would have to have this shot for 10 weeks I face grew very pale. The needle was the size of a large paperclip, 22 gauge and Don would have to give it to me. That’s when I noticed Don was very pale too. The nurse brought in a ball for him to practice on, and once again I saw his hands shake. I thought then, that even though most of the IVF process would physically happen to me, it was affecting him too. After we left we would go back the next week to do a baseline ultrasound, one last check, before starting the injections.

The most painful part...

I am convinced that the worst and most painful part of IVF is the waiting. We waited to try after Don’s surgery, we waited six months to find out the results, we waited on our first appointment at the clinic, we waited to start the cycle of hormones for IUI, we waited for the result of the IUI, we waited for test results to see if we were IVF candidates, we waited for my cycle to be timed right to start the month of pills before we actually start IVF. I am now a confirmed believer that if you ask God for something, like a character building request, such as patience, you better get ready because he is going to give you something that will force you to learn it. I did pray for patience, and boy is He teaching it to me. I prayed for a deeper commitment and closeness to Don, and boy is he teaching it to me. I asked for a baby, and I am learning just how bad I want it. This process will tear you down or bring you closer to each other and to God. It is our decision and although we have struggled, I think it has deepened our love for each other, and it is helping me with the fact that I cannot control everything.