Peeking out from under my rock

It is nice under here. Dark. Damp. Mossy. But even I have to admit that enough is enough, it’s time to rejoin the universe. It’s time to catch up with what I have been missing.

Not a lot has changed since I left…  Some of you are back after breaks of your own… Some of you are pregnant (!) … but mostly the world of IF blogging seems to be humming right a long at the same pace I left it. Which is comforting.

Not a lot has changed with me either… We received some news in February that we would get our first tax return ever, and a sizeable amount at that… We used it to pay for two more IUIs, one of which was a miserable failure, the second of which I am in the midst of right now. I’ve got every appendage in my body crossed that this will be the one…  One more week to wait.

This one was especially difficult, the doctor took about 20 minutes trying to thread the catheter through my disagreeable cervix, and I have been cramping ever since. I am trying to take that as a good sign, that something is going on down there. But I will admit that I gave up a long time ago. This will be the last IUI we do, regardless of the outcome.

School is going well, my lack of pregnancy thus far ensures that I will be able to attend summer school and get through the Fall semester even if this IUI takes. Haven’t had a chance to meet the new niece yet, her parents are both already back at work and have no time for company. I’ve sent her a few knitted items.

I found out a few weeks ago that one of my guy friends got a girl pregnant. Not even his girl friend, just a random girl. They are attempting to make the best of it and are moving in together. I bit my tounge and didn’t ask if he wanted to just give the baby to me and super-husband.  It’s hard for me to feel good about their situation, but I am doing my best.

Ok, that’s all for now. I promise to be better about posting and commenting again. This isn’t the last of me 

2009, woo hoo?

2009 is off to a rip roarin’ start. Yesterday afternoon had me running errands mid day… driving through my college campus with the windows down, my favorite tunes on the radio, enjoying the unseasonable 60 degree weather. I was filled with the thought of possibility… that 2009 would bring us a pregnancy, that going back to school and starting my new job would bring me the chance to start over in life, that our new president elect might bring some good change to the country, or at the very least a fresh start looking at issues with new eyes and perspective.

Then my dad called… and told me that he would no longer be able to help pay for my IF treatment. A call that came only about two hours after we received word that we are now aunt and uncle to a lovely and perfect baby girl. And then my happy little universe imploded on it’s self.

Because without help, there is no way that we can pay for IF treatments on our own. At least not with any kind of regularity.

While that news was shocking and upsetting, more shocking and upsetting was the way my dad handled it. “How long is this thing going to take anyway?” He asked. “I thought that it would have been taken care of by now, it’s been three months.”

It was a conversation that left me feeling so stupid, so naive, and so broken. The other shoe, it has fallen.

I am sill in the two week wait to see if IUI #2 was a success, I’m not filled with optimism though, especially after husband’s difficulties with the speciman cup.

Now I am just waiting to hear the news that the new baby girl in our family? She will be named the name that we planned on naming our daughter someday. Leaving me with the question to pose to you all… when you are having trouble conceiving, do you tell the pregnant members of your family the names you have “on reserve?” Or do you just suck it up if those names get picked?

we made it!

Better late then never! I arrived for my 9am appointment at 9:40, 10 minutes past the cut off, with sample in hand. Thanks for all the well wishes.

The rest of yesterday was kinda crappy, superhusband was in a bad bad mood, but today the whole thing seems to have brought us closer together. If we have to do this again we are going to ask about the special “collection condoms…”

I can’t wait for that conversation!! Hopefully we won’t have to have it.

Standing Room Only (aka, No Room at the Inn)

As if the holidays weren’t hectic enough, I got my period on Friday which ment I just made the cutoff for a cycle this month. A bit of a blessing and a curse really, as this is my last month on the expensive insurance that covers a few things. That’s right, I was reinstated… only to uninstate myself so I can switch over to school insurance in January!

Yesterday I headed over to the IF clinic for my monthly wanding. I arrived at the appointed hour only to find that the parking lot was completely full. I parked semi-legally along the curb and went inside to see a scene that would have been more appropriate for the mall this time of year.

(It might be worth interjecting here that the maximum number of people I’ve ever seen in the waiting room of the clinic is two. Including myself.)

There were kids playing with toys on the floor and coffee table. Generations of folks chatting nervously in the corner. It seemed oddly as though everyone had brought their entire extended family. “Hey Grandma, I know a fun thing to do while you are in town for the holidays… come with me when I have my IUI!”

 I plunked myself down in the only available seat and set to working on my last knitting project of the holiday season of giving. Then more people came in. And there was no place for them to sit.  “I’ve got a 10:30 appointment but I was running early so I figured we would come now!” the lady announced to the receptionist. I looked at my watch… it was 9:15. 

Seems as though the holidays make everyone feel the pressure to be in a family way.

I’m on day two of Letrazole, have the same pounding headache I experienced with the clomid. Looks like we’re squeezing in IUI of Love #2 on New Year’s Eve.

SuperHusband’s brother’s wife will be induced on the 29th, and we will have our first neice or nephew. I cracked out some knitting patterns I had filed away when we first started trying to conceive and knitted the baby a few things. When ever I find out someone close to me is pregnant, I think to myself… “well, hopefully by the time they have their baby we will be expecting our own, and it will hurt a little less.”  Well, we’re out of time for this one.

I also just found out that a friend is expecting her second IVF baby in June. Maybe we’ll meet that deadline and she can loan me all her stylish maternity clothes.

One week down, one to go.

Things aren’t looking great.

I had CD21 bloodwork done yesterday and while the bad news is that I did not appear to ovulate this month, the good news at least is that we are getting closer to an understanding of what in my body is not working properly.

My progesterone was at an 8, and the nurse said they like to see at least a 10 to indicate ovulation. A little searching on the net let me to the belief that there is really no way I can be knocked up with a progesterone level of an 8.

I guess it’s good I can’t get all foolish and feel hopeful that this was the month. But I was enjoying the feeling of possibility a bit. I guess it’s time to change my “IUI of Love” tag to “IUI of Love #1.”

I tried to distract myself by catching up on some non-IF blogs that I enjoy and found out that Dooce is pregnant and I’m happy for her and all, really I am. But it reminded me of when I found out that the fabulous people at Sweet Juniper were expecting their second, and how at the time (18 months ago) I was so secretly thrilled, because I was hoping to find out soon that I was also pregnant and I could read online about what would soon be happening to me from one of my favorite writers.

sigh.

So here we go again.

My day was topped off by a genuinely shit-tastic day at work, one that left me snapping at everyone. And my office mates like to hold grudges, so it will be at least a month before anyone is treating me like anything other then a psycho-bitch again.

And then there was the letter. Something so unbelievable it deserves a post all of it’s own.  Stay tuned…

Reflections on the Psychadelic Experience

You guessed it W4I, the last several days have been fairly unremarkable. Not really worth clogging up your googlereaders with. Until Sunday that is.

Sunday afternoon started like any other, until my husband went down the block to visit a friend and a wall of sadness hit me. Hard. I spent about an hour crying for no good reason and wound up calling super husband to tell him not to come home, that I didn’t want to carry through on our plans for the afternoon, and his time would best be spent with his friends not with me, as I was a serious basket-case that he need not see.

He of course interpreted this as “if you know what is good for you, you will come home very soon.” And that is what he did. So he got to see me as a blubbery mess. He relented to my insistence that we not leave the house and we stuck to the couch and watched a movie. Occasionally I would go off on a crying jag, which I thought to be increasingly ridiculous and funny as they went on, eventually leaving me laughing while simultaneously choking on my tears. From an outsider’s perspective I’m sure I looked insanely manic. Lucky for me super husband remembered that bc pills made me act the same way, and he was able to ride the hormonal waves of insanity with a good natured bit of humor and lots of love.

Monday brought with it some needed mental stability and a shot of HCG in my butt. I was reminded of my triple line PG test invention and thought about peeing on a stick just for the thrill of a double line. I refrained.

Yesterday was the monumental moment, the IUI of Love it’s self! The hardest part was getting a sample from super husband, as he does not often do the act that results in a sample, so he was lacking in any kind of personal technique and the whole “on demand” aspect really messed with him. So I was 20 minutes late for my appointment but the whole thing was quite breezy from there on. The doc had a bit of trouble with the cath.eter, the same thing that caused problems with my HSG. Leaving me to wonder if I just have a very disagreeable cervix.  So I have decided that that is my diagnosis. “Disagreeable Cervix.”

I’ll have another progesterone test in a week and then it’s smooth sailing until testing time!  Internets, you will be the first (ok, maybe third?) to know the results.

It’s a beautiful day for love

Ahhh, there’s nothing like the crispness of the fall air, the crunch of leaves under your feet, the beautiful mountains turning crimson and gold. The perfect setting for my first date with the dil.do.cam.

This was also really my first date with the RE, who will now be known as Dr. Smartypants.  He made a little time for pleasantries and then got right down to business. It wasn’t nearly as mortifying as I had expected, and it was actually really interesting to see my anatomy all up close and personal like. My right ovary was large and in charge,  Lefty was kinda small and shrivelly.

Afterwords I gave more blood and then I was out the door, clo.mid perscription in hand. All in all it took less then 30 minutes. I can’t believe that this is what I had been so afraid of!  (ok, actually I am more afraid of the clo.mid, so we’ll talk again in a few days…)