Sunday, December 29, 2002
to remember: I do have temperature dips in my postovulatory phase. could that mean my progesterone levels are low?
and how did she know pessaries would be enough? should I be demanding blood tests to check my levels?
and how did she know pessaries would be enough? should I be demanding blood tests to check my levels?
I seem to have spent a couple of hours on the Web, mostly on this. maybe I should get off and get a life for a few minutes?
but there are so many questions. I'd really, really like to know if my luteal phase is OK, at 12 days, for instance.
have decided to keep eating bad food and drinking coffee until January 2 (new years' day I plan to feel so bad I'll need coffee), then get serious about all this fascist nutrition stuff.
but there are so many questions. I'd really, really like to know if my luteal phase is OK, at 12 days, for instance.
have decided to keep eating bad food and drinking coffee until January 2 (new years' day I plan to feel so bad I'll need coffee), then get serious about all this fascist nutrition stuff.
an ivf post from a minister of the faith. I really feel for him. it's a few months old; I hope they went on to try FET.
have booked some leave in March/April/May.
I was supposed to be doing extra study, but I've decided to cut that back to less study and just keep the time off.
so I'll be working just three days a week. my work is quite stressful, I've decided, and I'm pretty much over it anyway.
none of which helps with the Feb FET cycle. I'm quite pessimistic about that one, and it will be kind of a relief to get down to the Grade Two and Three emby and start putting them in two at a time.
there are conflicting things on the Web about thaws; I think it may depend on how they're frozen, and I can't tell that until I see the dr on the 14/1.
I was supposed to be doing extra study, but I've decided to cut that back to less study and just keep the time off.
so I'll be working just three days a week. my work is quite stressful, I've decided, and I'm pretty much over it anyway.
none of which helps with the Feb FET cycle. I'm quite pessimistic about that one, and it will be kind of a relief to get down to the Grade Two and Three emby and start putting them in two at a time.
there are conflicting things on the Web about thaws; I think it may depend on how they're frozen, and I can't tell that until I see the dr on the 14/1.
I don't like this at all. it does look like if they don't thaw out we miss a cycle. I'm sure my dr said there'd still be time to take more out, but I wonder...
it would be really horrible to miss yet another cycle.
it would be really horrible to miss yet another cycle.
am starting to wonder how the thaw works; if it doesn't thaw out, will we be able to thaw another in time?? could be another reason for going for two. I'd hate to miss a cycle because of a bad thaw.
compulsive recording dept: two overheard conversations last week. one, a man saying to another; "if she has another it will definitely be a caesarian".
and another, later in the day, saying "so I was holding the baby with one hand and trying to cut the cord with the other."
have rung my ex's wife and got details for the naturopath who can do a hair analysis to see if we are lacking any vitamins, proteins, etc. working my way through the fascist babymaking book. you never know what will help.
and another, later in the day, saying "so I was holding the baby with one hand and trying to cut the cord with the other."
have rung my ex's wife and got details for the naturopath who can do a hair analysis to see if we are lacking any vitamins, proteins, etc. working my way through the fascist babymaking book. you never know what will help.
I'd like to know how much of baby-craving is intellectual, from our knowledge of ourselves and how things work, and how much is gut instinct, the same desires as make us thirsty or hungry or sleepy.
because the more I think about it the more I see how much some men and women are willing to go through to have children. not just the physical stuff, but emotional and lifestyle wise (lifestyle's an ugly word, isn't it?)
we'll forgo things that are good/enjoyable for us, the person, in order to have a better chance of making more people. and it's not just about the potential enjoyment that children can bring. it's also a raw and inexplicable urge: make babies.
I've settled down a lot after the horrible end to my 2ww; the drugs and hormones are definitely clear of my body, and today my temperature dropped to preovulatory levels for the first time in about 23 days. which is good, because as soon as I ovulate I'll know when we can do the next transfer. quite a few women on my bulletin board are just doing back to back IVF because they don't have enough to freeze, or not good enough quality. so, providing they defrost, I know I'm lucky. I just wish it had worked.
because the more I think about it the more I see how much some men and women are willing to go through to have children. not just the physical stuff, but emotional and lifestyle wise (lifestyle's an ugly word, isn't it?)
we'll forgo things that are good/enjoyable for us, the person, in order to have a better chance of making more people. and it's not just about the potential enjoyment that children can bring. it's also a raw and inexplicable urge: make babies.
I've settled down a lot after the horrible end to my 2ww; the drugs and hormones are definitely clear of my body, and today my temperature dropped to preovulatory levels for the first time in about 23 days. which is good, because as soon as I ovulate I'll know when we can do the next transfer. quite a few women on my bulletin board are just doing back to back IVF because they don't have enough to freeze, or not good enough quality. so, providing they defrost, I know I'm lucky. I just wish it had worked.
Thursday, December 26, 2002
I made some notes a few weeks back outside the clinic. today (boxing day) I sat down and turned them into this. I can't help it; I'm a compulsive writer. and I think I'll come back to it and if I'm pregnant by July, I might offer it to the publication I write for. it will be Louise Brown's 25th birthday next year. I don't know if I'd put my name on it, though...
Every morning between 7 and 9 am, while the world is waking, stretching, driving to work and drinking coffee, cars pull into a side street in East Melbourne and park under the plane trees.
One by one their drivers - young, female, childless - swing their legs out of the drivers' seat, trot to the ticket machine, drop coins in the slot, then march across the ugly parking lot of the Freemason's Hospital, entering through a door marked "Maternity", in search of a dream.
In the dream, they're just like other women. They're normal. They have sleepless nights, cracked nipples, shirts covered in baby vomit. They go through labour. None of these things are considered upsides of motherhood, but all these women yearn for it.
I know, because I'm one of them.
The scene inside the hospital at the crack of dawn is one of polite anxiety. women and sometimes their husbands sit quietly outside doctor's rooms and ultrasound clinics and in the waiting room of Suite 10, Melbourne IVF's main clinic, talking in low voices and flicking automatically through magazines.
Occasionally I've seen two women together, in a surgery waiting area or in the clinic waiting room and I wonder: lovers? sisters? an egg donor and recipient, or a mother and a surrogate mother?
Sometimes there's a child in the woman's arms, or trailing a toy train down the hospital corridor. Infertility isn't an absolute, and many couples go through treatment more than once to complete their family. Later in the day there are often new babies being cooed over - the Freemason's has a major maternity ward - and I wonder if the new parents realise how many envious eyes are on them.
Although the unifying fact of infertility is the missing child, the causes and treatment seem infinite. This game has more acronyms than the technology industry - IVF, ICSI, OPU, HCG, OHSS, IUI ....
Most of my discussions with other wannabe mothers have been on the Internet, in bulletin boards and chat rooms, via email and reading online journals.
From this, I've learned that we're very lucky in Australia. Private clinics rule the scene in the United States, and a single IVF cycle can cost ....
In the UK, where ..Mr ... IVF pioneer? name? .. is still practising, getting treatment is made more difficult by a combination of high prices and waiting lists; and waiting is the last thing you want to do when you're in your late 30s and infertile.
Some of the solutions seem somewhat barbaric to me; a woman with no money in the US can "egg share" with a wealthier woman. Essentially, this amounts to selling some of the precious eggs produced in the cycle to the other woman, in return for free treatment.
Here, Medicare will cover about three-quarters of a normal cycle, leaving somewhere between one and two thousand dollars for the patient to pay, although some of the more advanced techniques are not covered. Health insurance helps, but not as much - mine pays hospital bed fees and some drugs.
We're also very lucky in terms of what's involved and how successful it is; when Louise Brown was born, IVF involved much higher doses of drugs, long hospital stays and repeated surgery. Now, in Australia, about 2-3 per cent of all babies born are conceived with medical assistance.
The actual treatment varies a lot these days. My first treatment cycle was a "long down regulation" cycle, begun late last year after I was declared officially infertile due to either "tubal defect" or something called "unexplained".
First I took the contraceptive pill to stabilise my hormone levels and allow the clinic to time my treatment better.
Then I used a nasal spray with a nasty taste twice a day for several weeks. Once it was confirmed that the spray had "down regulated" me - effectively shut down my ovaries and uterus - I began daily injections of a powerful hormone to stimulate my ovaries. All through this I had regular ultrasound scans to watch my uterus and ovaries, and worried about the risk of overstimulation, which can land patients in hospital. I cut down on "bad" substances, like coffee and alcohol, and based on a random snippet I'd read, began eating large amounts of protein, just in case it helped.
As a grand finale, I took a massive injection of a pregnancy hormone exactly 36 hours before ovum pick up.
And as if it wasn't emotional enough stuff already, the drugs and synthetic hormones used in treatment have a side effect known as "emotional lability". this means you cry all the time. It means you feel premenstrual, menopausal and sometimes pregnant, sometimes all at once. Oh, and stress should be avoided during treatment!
The ovum pickup procedure isn't fun. It involves piercing the uterus with a needle and suctioning the eggs from the ovaries, with the whole procedure guided by ultrasound. It's sometimes done under anaesthetic, but more often under sedation. Sedation keeps you still, and often blocks the experience from memory, but it didn't with me.
Two days later when we came in for the embryo "transfer" - placing one or more into the uterus - my first reaction on seeing my doctor was "I'm not letting you near me." She replied "you will when I tell you the results." My ten eggs had become ten embryos, all of good enough quality to transfer. I felt like a six-year-old getting an elephant stamp at school - not bad for a 36-year-old!
There can be nothing more surreal than hearing the words "I'm putting the embryo in now"; afterwards, despite what I knew about how things worked, I was afraid to stand up.
We were wary of the medical problems associated with twins, so we'd decided to try just one embryo at first. For two weeks we did time, waiting for the day of my blood test. I couldn't stay off the Internet, surfing sites about early pregnancy and chatting to my "cycle buddies" at a British clinic.
The day finally came, and I was told I had achieved what I thought was impossible; I was a little bit pregnant. I had a level of pregnancy hormones but it was low and I'd need another test three days later. I thought I'd burst with anticipation. By the Monday, though, I already knew we hadn't succeeded - I'd been perhaps slightly pregnant for a few days.
........ ? what's next?....
In my journey through these rooms, I've encountered nothing but professional kindness from every nurse, doctor and clinician. From an anaesthetist (sp?) who flirted with me over my "beautiful veins" while I lay in a hospital gown on a table in an operating theatre, feeling more like a lab rat than a woman, to the nurses who urged me not to give up when things looked bad, to a specialist who took the trouble to phone me when negative results came in, the staff were not only apparently very good at their jobs, but seemed to care about how I was managing things. Their job must be a mix of vicarious grief and joy, as some couples fail and others succeed.
As for the (mostly) women I've met online, I've seen everything from despair to truly incredible willingness to persist with painful, expensive treatment with a low likelihood of success, through miscarriage after miscarriage and all kinds of bad reactions to drugs, often in the face of an insensitive world where friends say helpful things like "I'll loan you my husband," "why don't you just adopt", and relatives rebuke women who are unable to face newborn babies straight after a failed cycle, telling them they have an "unhealthy" attitude.
From time to time I've come across Web sites that claim the work of fertility clinics, with their conception outside the body and stores of frozen embryos, is immoral and against God's wishes. I have little response to this, other than my instinctive "get your hands off my body" feminist knee-jerk, and a conviction that a child produced at such a high price must have a at least as good a chance of unconditional love as any "naturally conceived" child alive today.
For normal people, reproduction is a mystery. You make love, you get pregnant, there's a child. In the world of "ART" (assisted reproductive technology), the mystery becomes a series of well-defined steps, measured at every turn in millimetres, dosage in iu, and hormone levels. The hours between divisions of the new embryo are timed, and the mechanics and timing of embryo implanation can become an obsession for a woman who has just had a "transfer" - one or more embryos placed into her womb.
Even the actual process of fertilisation is often technologized, as intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) is increasingly able to help men with low sperm counts or immobile sperm become fathers. (ICSI is a popular way of "reversing" the effects of earlier vasectomy, and isn't covered by Medicare.)
The only thing that remains mysterious and magical is the spark of life that flares at fertilisation. however much I learn about gene recombination and the way the egg manages to launch that new string of genes on a trajectory that can lead to a new human being, I don't think I can ever really comprehend what it is that happens
all I know is ....
Every morning between 7 and 9 am, while the world is waking, stretching, driving to work and drinking coffee, cars pull into a side street in East Melbourne and park under the plane trees.
One by one their drivers - young, female, childless - swing their legs out of the drivers' seat, trot to the ticket machine, drop coins in the slot, then march across the ugly parking lot of the Freemason's Hospital, entering through a door marked "Maternity", in search of a dream.
In the dream, they're just like other women. They're normal. They have sleepless nights, cracked nipples, shirts covered in baby vomit. They go through labour. None of these things are considered upsides of motherhood, but all these women yearn for it.
I know, because I'm one of them.
The scene inside the hospital at the crack of dawn is one of polite anxiety. women and sometimes their husbands sit quietly outside doctor's rooms and ultrasound clinics and in the waiting room of Suite 10, Melbourne IVF's main clinic, talking in low voices and flicking automatically through magazines.
Occasionally I've seen two women together, in a surgery waiting area or in the clinic waiting room and I wonder: lovers? sisters? an egg donor and recipient, or a mother and a surrogate mother?
Sometimes there's a child in the woman's arms, or trailing a toy train down the hospital corridor. Infertility isn't an absolute, and many couples go through treatment more than once to complete their family. Later in the day there are often new babies being cooed over - the Freemason's has a major maternity ward - and I wonder if the new parents realise how many envious eyes are on them.
Although the unifying fact of infertility is the missing child, the causes and treatment seem infinite. This game has more acronyms than the technology industry - IVF, ICSI, OPU, HCG, OHSS, IUI ....
Most of my discussions with other wannabe mothers have been on the Internet, in bulletin boards and chat rooms, via email and reading online journals.
From this, I've learned that we're very lucky in Australia. Private clinics rule the scene in the United States, and a single IVF cycle can cost ....
In the UK, where ..Mr ... IVF pioneer? name? .. is still practising, getting treatment is made more difficult by a combination of high prices and waiting lists; and waiting is the last thing you want to do when you're in your late 30s and infertile.
Some of the solutions seem somewhat barbaric to me; a woman with no money in the US can "egg share" with a wealthier woman. Essentially, this amounts to selling some of the precious eggs produced in the cycle to the other woman, in return for free treatment.
Here, Medicare will cover about three-quarters of a normal cycle, leaving somewhere between one and two thousand dollars for the patient to pay, although some of the more advanced techniques are not covered. Health insurance helps, but not as much - mine pays hospital bed fees and some drugs.
We're also very lucky in terms of what's involved and how successful it is; when Louise Brown was born, IVF involved much higher doses of drugs, long hospital stays and repeated surgery. Now, in Australia, about 2-3 per cent of all babies born are conceived with medical assistance.
The actual treatment varies a lot these days. My first treatment cycle was a "long down regulation" cycle, begun late last year after I was declared officially infertile due to either "tubal defect" or something called "unexplained".
First I took the contraceptive pill to stabilise my hormone levels and allow the clinic to time my treatment better.
Then I used a nasal spray with a nasty taste twice a day for several weeks. Once it was confirmed that the spray had "down regulated" me - effectively shut down my ovaries and uterus - I began daily injections of a powerful hormone to stimulate my ovaries. All through this I had regular ultrasound scans to watch my uterus and ovaries, and worried about the risk of overstimulation, which can land patients in hospital. I cut down on "bad" substances, like coffee and alcohol, and based on a random snippet I'd read, began eating large amounts of protein, just in case it helped.
As a grand finale, I took a massive injection of a pregnancy hormone exactly 36 hours before ovum pick up.
And as if it wasn't emotional enough stuff already, the drugs and synthetic hormones used in treatment have a side effect known as "emotional lability". this means you cry all the time. It means you feel premenstrual, menopausal and sometimes pregnant, sometimes all at once. Oh, and stress should be avoided during treatment!
The ovum pickup procedure isn't fun. It involves piercing the uterus with a needle and suctioning the eggs from the ovaries, with the whole procedure guided by ultrasound. It's sometimes done under anaesthetic, but more often under sedation. Sedation keeps you still, and often blocks the experience from memory, but it didn't with me.
Two days later when we came in for the embryo "transfer" - placing one or more into the uterus - my first reaction on seeing my doctor was "I'm not letting you near me." She replied "you will when I tell you the results." My ten eggs had become ten embryos, all of good enough quality to transfer. I felt like a six-year-old getting an elephant stamp at school - not bad for a 36-year-old!
There can be nothing more surreal than hearing the words "I'm putting the embryo in now"; afterwards, despite what I knew about how things worked, I was afraid to stand up.
We were wary of the medical problems associated with twins, so we'd decided to try just one embryo at first. For two weeks we did time, waiting for the day of my blood test. I couldn't stay off the Internet, surfing sites about early pregnancy and chatting to my "cycle buddies" at a British clinic.
The day finally came, and I was told I had achieved what I thought was impossible; I was a little bit pregnant. I had a level of pregnancy hormones but it was low and I'd need another test three days later. I thought I'd burst with anticipation. By the Monday, though, I already knew we hadn't succeeded - I'd been perhaps slightly pregnant for a few days.
........ ? what's next?....
In my journey through these rooms, I've encountered nothing but professional kindness from every nurse, doctor and clinician. From an anaesthetist (sp?) who flirted with me over my "beautiful veins" while I lay in a hospital gown on a table in an operating theatre, feeling more like a lab rat than a woman, to the nurses who urged me not to give up when things looked bad, to a specialist who took the trouble to phone me when negative results came in, the staff were not only apparently very good at their jobs, but seemed to care about how I was managing things. Their job must be a mix of vicarious grief and joy, as some couples fail and others succeed.
As for the (mostly) women I've met online, I've seen everything from despair to truly incredible willingness to persist with painful, expensive treatment with a low likelihood of success, through miscarriage after miscarriage and all kinds of bad reactions to drugs, often in the face of an insensitive world where friends say helpful things like "I'll loan you my husband," "why don't you just adopt", and relatives rebuke women who are unable to face newborn babies straight after a failed cycle, telling them they have an "unhealthy" attitude.
From time to time I've come across Web sites that claim the work of fertility clinics, with their conception outside the body and stores of frozen embryos, is immoral and against God's wishes. I have little response to this, other than my instinctive "get your hands off my body" feminist knee-jerk, and a conviction that a child produced at such a high price must have a at least as good a chance of unconditional love as any "naturally conceived" child alive today.
For normal people, reproduction is a mystery. You make love, you get pregnant, there's a child. In the world of "ART" (assisted reproductive technology), the mystery becomes a series of well-defined steps, measured at every turn in millimetres, dosage in iu, and hormone levels. The hours between divisions of the new embryo are timed, and the mechanics and timing of embryo implanation can become an obsession for a woman who has just had a "transfer" - one or more embryos placed into her womb.
Even the actual process of fertilisation is often technologized, as intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) is increasingly able to help men with low sperm counts or immobile sperm become fathers. (ICSI is a popular way of "reversing" the effects of earlier vasectomy, and isn't covered by Medicare.)
The only thing that remains mysterious and magical is the spark of life that flares at fertilisation. however much I learn about gene recombination and the way the egg manages to launch that new string of genes on a trajectory that can lead to a new human being, I don't think I can ever really comprehend what it is that happens
all I know is ....
dream last night; not sure where I was, but my ex and his wife were there. they had their baby, who is a sweet thing with my ex's nose, and I was somehow having trouble getting to see him (the baby).
rode down the beach path this morning. stopped at Black Rock for my halfway drink and eat. a woman came along with a little Staffordshire terrier. I talked to her (I used to have one) and she said she couldn't let the dog pull on the lead because she was pregnant. I said "not very," and she said "five and a half months". I said "you don't look it" and she said "oh, it's in there". and we went our separate ways. and I'd wanted to say that I knew that feeling of not wanting to put pressure on one's abdomen. but I hardly could, could I?
rode down the beach path this morning. stopped at Black Rock for my halfway drink and eat. a woman came along with a little Staffordshire terrier. I talked to her (I used to have one) and she said she couldn't let the dog pull on the lead because she was pregnant. I said "not very," and she said "five and a half months". I said "you don't look it" and she said "oh, it's in there". and we went our separate ways. and I'd wanted to say that I knew that feeling of not wanting to put pressure on one's abdomen. but I hardly could, could I?
Tuesday, December 24, 2002
bought a fascist book on nutrition etc today. it's called The natural Way to Better Babies. I already have, somewhere, the Natural Way to a Better Pregnancy. strangely, the baby one is pre-pregnancy and the pregnancy one is for during. I would have named them the other way around.
some of the stuff in it is moot, as the embryos are already made. but I'm sure there's lots in there about nutrition for during pregnancy, to make sure my uterus is in good shape, etc. and of course there's the faint hope that my tubes might somehow unblock if I reduce my stress levels or otherwise do something right.
given that my experience of early pregnancy has simply proved to me that I've never, ever been even a little bit pregnant, though, I think it's clear that the tubes are not working. I can only hope that that's the only problem. am off surfing for information on egg/embryo quality. hoping that 10/10 fertilisation score means that in general, they should be good quality. even if that pretty grade one Elvis wasn't able to make it...
some of the stuff in it is moot, as the embryos are already made. but I'm sure there's lots in there about nutrition for during pregnancy, to make sure my uterus is in good shape, etc. and of course there's the faint hope that my tubes might somehow unblock if I reduce my stress levels or otherwise do something right.
given that my experience of early pregnancy has simply proved to me that I've never, ever been even a little bit pregnant, though, I think it's clear that the tubes are not working. I can only hope that that's the only problem. am off surfing for information on egg/embryo quality. hoping that 10/10 fertilisation score means that in general, they should be good quality. even if that pretty grade one Elvis wasn't able to make it...
apparently my dr tried to call me yesterday. my phone was off. so she rang husband instead.
she asked how I was and told him it had probably been the embryo that wasn't right. and said she was still very optimistic about our chances.
so nice that she bothered to call and make sympathetic noises, though. she didn't have to do that.
she asked how I was and told him it had probably been the embryo that wasn't right. and said she was still very optimistic about our chances.
so nice that she bothered to call and make sympathetic noises, though. she didn't have to do that.
Monday, December 23, 2002
the animal I'd most like to be right now: a kangaroo.
not only do they sensibly give birth when the fetus is a couple of inches long, keeping it alive on a nipple till it's ready to hop out of the VERY LARGE OPENING of the pouch (= no labour!), they can keep a second embryo in "storage" in the womb until the baby is either ready to fend for itself or dies. I guess having nine in storage is pretty much the same. now if I could only figure out the pouch thing...
not only do they sensibly give birth when the fetus is a couple of inches long, keeping it alive on a nipple till it's ready to hop out of the VERY LARGE OPENING of the pouch (= no labour!), they can keep a second embryo in "storage" in the womb until the baby is either ready to fend for itself or dies. I guess having nine in storage is pretty much the same. now if I could only figure out the pouch thing...
small mercy; that I didn't go for that test on Thursday. because I suspect by Friday the hcg level was actually falling. and a Thursday test may have been an outright positive. that would have really hurt. (hah! like this doesn't "really hurt"!)
was thinking about how stupid it is to have to go back in for a third test when I KNOW I'm not pregnant. when I've known it was over since that first spot of blood. let alone all the rest - what came next, my temperature, how my body feels.
and into my head popped the thing I'll call this embryo that is no longer. Elvis. as he, or she, has most certainly left the building.
naughty Elvis.
and into my head popped the thing I'll call this embryo that is no longer. Elvis. as he, or she, has most certainly left the building.
naughty Elvis.
so I followed up that depressing little rave with the regulation marital fight, in which I say how I feel and he gets all defensive and I rave against his sheer blankness and refusal to engage with me.
then I drank a couple of glasses of champage and rang my friend in PNG and we whined about our husbands.
then it was OK and I had another glass, of red, and we had dinner.
not that getting drunk solves anything. but it did provide some relief from all the tension.
and I had to get up at 6.30 to drive to the clinic for the blood test (Donna). and had to stop in the toilets on the way out to have the little cry I knew was coming. have decided my dr's receptionist really does have an offhand manner. made review appt for January 14, the earliest I could get it.
rang just after two - this is a busy time because that's when they give out test results - waited 15 minutes until I could speak to Suzanne, who told me the reading was 25. this means they want me to go back yet again in a week to confirm it's all cleared. how ridiculous. but as I said to husband when I rang to tell him, I don't want "uncooperative patient" on my file, so I have an appt nye at 8.30 am.
I could go to the regular pathology agency, but I will say that the nurses are excellent at non-painful blood testing. I just found it upsetting to walk in there, past all the other couples waiting for scans and other women having their tests. it's not a hopeful atmosphere. it's a desperate one. and I know I may have to go back again and again before we hit the jackpot, if we do. It now seems stupidly optimistic to have hoped this one would take and there would be nine "spare". now I only hope we get there within the nine, that I don't have to do another ivf cycle.
am thinking that after one or two more single-emby tries, we'll be going to two at a time. for one thing, I don't think I can handle another eight failed cycles. better to get them through faster. it's not the time as such (though it is), it's the nature of the time. desperate? not desperate as in will-do-anything. but desperate as in powerless and needy.
then I drank a couple of glasses of champage and rang my friend in PNG and we whined about our husbands.
then it was OK and I had another glass, of red, and we had dinner.
not that getting drunk solves anything. but it did provide some relief from all the tension.
and I had to get up at 6.30 to drive to the clinic for the blood test (Donna). and had to stop in the toilets on the way out to have the little cry I knew was coming. have decided my dr's receptionist really does have an offhand manner. made review appt for January 14, the earliest I could get it.
rang just after two - this is a busy time because that's when they give out test results - waited 15 minutes until I could speak to Suzanne, who told me the reading was 25. this means they want me to go back yet again in a week to confirm it's all cleared. how ridiculous. but as I said to husband when I rang to tell him, I don't want "uncooperative patient" on my file, so I have an appt nye at 8.30 am.
I could go to the regular pathology agency, but I will say that the nurses are excellent at non-painful blood testing. I just found it upsetting to walk in there, past all the other couples waiting for scans and other women having their tests. it's not a hopeful atmosphere. it's a desperate one. and I know I may have to go back again and again before we hit the jackpot, if we do. It now seems stupidly optimistic to have hoped this one would take and there would be nine "spare". now I only hope we get there within the nine, that I don't have to do another ivf cycle.
am thinking that after one or two more single-emby tries, we'll be going to two at a time. for one thing, I don't think I can handle another eight failed cycles. better to get them through faster. it's not the time as such (though it is), it's the nature of the time. desperate? not desperate as in will-do-anything. but desperate as in powerless and needy.
where to start. have a few phases of emotions I've been through, and just want to get it all in here.
last night I wrote this while I was out:
riding along brighton beach looking at the people; old men, kids, young people surfing the wind with parasails. feeling I don't have a place in all this.
husband's at home asleep.
he thinks we're going to a movie tonight.
but I feel flat, depressed, tearful. and he asked me what was wrong and I talked a bit but when I said I'd like more support next time, more relief from the diurnal pressures of housework he didn't seem to understand what I meant, what he could do.
he said "sorry" and I said don't apologise - I really wanted some show of strength, some promise for the future. instead he fell asleep.
and how would he be if I got post natal depression? would he understand how dragged-down I can feel by plain old housework? dishes, washing, things always in need of cleaning? these past few days I've been asking him to do things that I think he should offer - even had to ask him out last night, book it myself and pay for my own meal.and if I ever lose it completely he won't know how to keep it together.
I suspect my hormones are partly to blame for this flatness - also the end of a 70-day anticipation that was the down reg and pregnancy.
it's also the prospect of six weeks to FET, and who knows how long, if ever, until I'm "really" pregnant. and fear of being pregnant and not being able to trustit after this. and doubt that I'll cope with that, especially as work isn't a barrel of laughs for me now - and another doubt, a fear, that he really isn't strong enough or generious enoguh to understand what I need and then I'll be alone in it.
last night I wrote this while I was out:
riding along brighton beach looking at the people; old men, kids, young people surfing the wind with parasails. feeling I don't have a place in all this.
husband's at home asleep.
he thinks we're going to a movie tonight.
but I feel flat, depressed, tearful. and he asked me what was wrong and I talked a bit but when I said I'd like more support next time, more relief from the diurnal pressures of housework he didn't seem to understand what I meant, what he could do.
he said "sorry" and I said don't apologise - I really wanted some show of strength, some promise for the future. instead he fell asleep.
and how would he be if I got post natal depression? would he understand how dragged-down I can feel by plain old housework? dishes, washing, things always in need of cleaning? these past few days I've been asking him to do things that I think he should offer - even had to ask him out last night, book it myself and pay for my own meal.and if I ever lose it completely he won't know how to keep it together.
I suspect my hormones are partly to blame for this flatness - also the end of a 70-day anticipation that was the down reg and pregnancy.
it's also the prospect of six weeks to FET, and who knows how long, if ever, until I'm "really" pregnant. and fear of being pregnant and not being able to trustit after this. and doubt that I'll cope with that, especially as work isn't a barrel of laughs for me now - and another doubt, a fear, that he really isn't strong enough or generious enoguh to understand what I need and then I'll be alone in it.
Sunday, December 22, 2002
someone just mailed me with a little sympathy, saying she'd been told that not all embryos were meant to be, but "it's a lovely thing to allow them to carry out their short lives in their mother's body."
and I stared at that word, mother, and I guess it made me cry again. it's not something I'd thought of. I'd thought of whether this embryo "counted" as a pregnancy or not, at only 17 days past fertilisation. but not what my relationship to it was. and my husband's. it was half him, and it was alive inside me.
and I stared at that word, mother, and I guess it made me cry again. it's not something I'd thought of. I'd thought of whether this embryo "counted" as a pregnancy or not, at only 17 days past fertilisation. but not what my relationship to it was. and my husband's. it was half him, and it was alive inside me.
rang the clinic today to see if I could move my blood test to Tuesday, but they're not open, so I have to trek in there tomorrow.
Loretta the nurse said I shouldn't give up hope and asked about the blood etc, but I told her what it had been like and that my body is totally back to normal (breast not tender, etc) and she said I was probably right.
It's interesting how much you can be tuned in to these tiny signals. at least when I do the FET I might have a better idea what I should/shouldn't be feeling like.
have tickets to a stupid all-weekend, all-day music festival in town right in the middle of the next 2ww. I guess I'll just have to nap in a corner and arrive late/leave early.
just hanging out for a bit of dr time. want to know how it all fits together, if it fits the pattern of an embryo problem or if it might have been something I'd done.
Loretta the nurse said I shouldn't give up hope and asked about the blood etc, but I told her what it had been like and that my body is totally back to normal (breast not tender, etc) and she said I was probably right.
It's interesting how much you can be tuned in to these tiny signals. at least when I do the FET I might have a better idea what I should/shouldn't be feeling like.
have tickets to a stupid all-weekend, all-day music festival in town right in the middle of the next 2ww. I guess I'll just have to nap in a corner and arrive late/leave early.
just hanging out for a bit of dr time. want to know how it all fits together, if it fits the pattern of an embryo problem or if it might have been something I'd done.
Saturday, December 21, 2002
a very long list of causes of miscarriage. it says more than two teas a day is a high caffeine rate. so it's two teas, no coffee at all next time...
I found this page searching for "herpes and early miscarriage".
I've had it since I was a teenager, and it hardly ever erupts; I told my dr, of course.
I had some tingles and soreness the last few days. but given all the stress and hormones it didn't surprise me. I still favour the genetically-wrong embryo theory, though.
herpes and the fetus
I found this page searching for "herpes and early miscarriage".
I've had it since I was a teenager, and it hardly ever erupts; I told my dr, of course.
I had some tingles and soreness the last few days. but given all the stress and hormones it didn't surprise me. I still favour the genetically-wrong embryo theory, though.
herpes and the fetus
am recklessly writing on my "secret" blog while my husband's in the room, because I really need to blather about this.
we went out to eat. on the way home I emerged from the ladies' on the verge of tears and cried in the car all the way back.
the dreaded "material" - I think it's just overdeveloped uterine lining - has emerged. so I have in fact put it in a wrapper in the freezer in case the clinic has any use for it. I'll have to call and ask them tomorrow. how humiliating.
now I'm going to take a sleeping pill (haven't since we started the program 70 days ago!) and have a long, uninterrupted crash out. it will be better in the morning, once I'm refreshed and can start looking forwards. have drawn up a new temping chart already.
told husband a little about the "material". also said I want someone to acknowledge that I was pregnant, even if it was only for a few days. I'll call it five, which is the time past my normal menstruation date I went.
he says at least it (the embryo) had a go. I know he's right, but I also feel it would have hurt less if the emby had just not done a thing.
I also know that I've been deep in all this, more than I realise, for weeks now and I'll have to be getting on with and trying to enjoy my normal life. it could be quite relaxing, in a way. I plan to not only drink a lot (!) the next few days, but also to work hard on my exercise and swimming etc for six weeks, partly so I can be ready for the next round and hopefully so I can make myself stop for the 2ww, knowing that I have plenty of fitness in "reserve" - that I won't suddenly become a blob just because I rest up a bit.
just babbling, I know. where's that little blue pill? sleeeep...
we went out to eat. on the way home I emerged from the ladies' on the verge of tears and cried in the car all the way back.
the dreaded "material" - I think it's just overdeveloped uterine lining - has emerged. so I have in fact put it in a wrapper in the freezer in case the clinic has any use for it. I'll have to call and ask them tomorrow. how humiliating.
now I'm going to take a sleeping pill (haven't since we started the program 70 days ago!) and have a long, uninterrupted crash out. it will be better in the morning, once I'm refreshed and can start looking forwards. have drawn up a new temping chart already.
told husband a little about the "material". also said I want someone to acknowledge that I was pregnant, even if it was only for a few days. I'll call it five, which is the time past my normal menstruation date I went.
he says at least it (the embryo) had a go. I know he's right, but I also feel it would have hurt less if the emby had just not done a thing.
I also know that I've been deep in all this, more than I realise, for weeks now and I'll have to be getting on with and trying to enjoy my normal life. it could be quite relaxing, in a way. I plan to not only drink a lot (!) the next few days, but also to work hard on my exercise and swimming etc for six weeks, partly so I can be ready for the next round and hopefully so I can make myself stop for the 2ww, knowing that I have plenty of fitness in "reserve" - that I won't suddenly become a blob just because I rest up a bit.
just babbling, I know. where's that little blue pill? sleeeep...
temperature note: it was back down to 36.6 this morning, which is about 98; my standard postovulatory temp. it had been 36.7,8,9 for the last 10 days.
I would expect that by tomorrow it will drop properly. am going to watch it like a hawk this cycle, think I'll even try to get pregnant naturally, why not, at least it will be more fun than ivf
;-)
and then I'll have a good idea what's going on for FET.
I would expect that by tomorrow it will drop properly. am going to watch it like a hawk this cycle, think I'll even try to get pregnant naturally, why not, at least it will be more fun than ivf
;-)
and then I'll have a good idea what's going on for FET.
erk. some miscarriage sites suggest you save any "material" for analysis. I dread seeing any such thing. surely at two weeks it will be invisible, a mere spot? I hope so.
questions for dr:
was it technically a pregnancy?
most likely explanation; problems with the embryo itself, or luteal phase issues?
how often does this happen on a fresh cycle?
does it make it more likely it will happen on FET?
did the missing pessary make a difference? did the herpes outbreak?
should I be on any support in an FET?
exercise and stress?
FET: at the natural time or do they control it?
are grade ones meant to have a better success rate than average? what does this mean for my chances with the lower grade embryos?
and the biggie: when should we start putting in two instead of one?
I kind of think that I'd like to do one more with one - the other grade one, if it thaws.
then we have six grade twos and two grade threes. that's probably three more cycles if we do those in pairs and two don't thaw.
worst case, that would mean Feb, Mar, Apr, May, then back onto IVF in June.
but surely we won't get that far?
I was SO hoping this would take and I could be safe in the knowledge of those nine frozen embryos. looks like we can't count on that at all.
was it technically a pregnancy?
most likely explanation; problems with the embryo itself, or luteal phase issues?
how often does this happen on a fresh cycle?
does it make it more likely it will happen on FET?
did the missing pessary make a difference? did the herpes outbreak?
should I be on any support in an FET?
exercise and stress?
FET: at the natural time or do they control it?
are grade ones meant to have a better success rate than average? what does this mean for my chances with the lower grade embryos?
and the biggie: when should we start putting in two instead of one?
I kind of think that I'd like to do one more with one - the other grade one, if it thaws.
then we have six grade twos and two grade threes. that's probably three more cycles if we do those in pairs and two don't thaw.
worst case, that would mean Feb, Mar, Apr, May, then back onto IVF in June.
but surely we won't get that far?
I was SO hoping this would take and I could be safe in the knowledge of those nine frozen embryos. looks like we can't count on that at all.
I've thought of ringing the clinic. but I really don't see the point. I don't think they're there today anyway; not in the afternoon, at least. maybe in the morning if anything unusual happens. but I think it will just be a very heavy period.
just when I was getting used to the idea, it's ended.
we went up to our house to water the garden and dropped past some friends' places with xmas presents. it's a very hot day.
on the way back we went to the house to use the (outdoor) loo and eat our takeaway lunch. and there was a little brown spot on my knickers.
so I told my husband and sat there and cried for a bit. which I think answers my questions about my ambivalent feelings; I really do want to be pregnant. but I'm not. I have cramps and bright red bleeding, and this is not "spotting", it's a period.
then we had to drive home right across town in weekend-before-Christmas traffic in the hot sun in the open-topped car (no a/c). I felt shocking; hot, cramped, miserable, thirsty. I had a sleep when we got back, then got up and put husband in the bed; he's very tired too. we got up early to get the watering done before it got too hot - I was trying to take care of myself.
I'll still have to go and test on Monday, of course. we're going to get the first appt with our dr we can, to talk about what happened and why. I don't know what to call this; it's not really a miscarriage, but it's more than a failed IVF cycle; it's day 17, and the embryo must have tried to implant. I want to know why it didn't; was it just not viable, or could I have done something differently? I don't really think that missing pessary could have been the reason.
I was nearly ready to be genuinely excited about this. this only confirms that I should wait until at least the six-week scan to do anything of the sort. maybe next time I'll just stop doing ANYTHING; exercise, work, housework.
already calculating when the next transfer would be. if we skip January, it will be early February, testing late February. after Monday I guess I'll try to put this all aside for those weeks. it will be hard. I'll also try to prepare better next time, on the caffeine etc front; but for now, I'm swilling a can of Coke and eating chocolate to help me wake up from my nap and in the hope it will get rid of the headache that the crying caused.
I'm allowed to feel sorry for myself.
we went up to our house to water the garden and dropped past some friends' places with xmas presents. it's a very hot day.
on the way back we went to the house to use the (outdoor) loo and eat our takeaway lunch. and there was a little brown spot on my knickers.
so I told my husband and sat there and cried for a bit. which I think answers my questions about my ambivalent feelings; I really do want to be pregnant. but I'm not. I have cramps and bright red bleeding, and this is not "spotting", it's a period.
then we had to drive home right across town in weekend-before-Christmas traffic in the hot sun in the open-topped car (no a/c). I felt shocking; hot, cramped, miserable, thirsty. I had a sleep when we got back, then got up and put husband in the bed; he's very tired too. we got up early to get the watering done before it got too hot - I was trying to take care of myself.
I'll still have to go and test on Monday, of course. we're going to get the first appt with our dr we can, to talk about what happened and why. I don't know what to call this; it's not really a miscarriage, but it's more than a failed IVF cycle; it's day 17, and the embryo must have tried to implant. I want to know why it didn't; was it just not viable, or could I have done something differently? I don't really think that missing pessary could have been the reason.
I was nearly ready to be genuinely excited about this. this only confirms that I should wait until at least the six-week scan to do anything of the sort. maybe next time I'll just stop doing ANYTHING; exercise, work, housework.
already calculating when the next transfer would be. if we skip January, it will be early February, testing late February. after Monday I guess I'll try to put this all aside for those weeks. it will be hard. I'll also try to prepare better next time, on the caffeine etc front; but for now, I'm swilling a can of Coke and eating chocolate to help me wake up from my nap and in the hope it will get rid of the headache that the crying caused.
I'm allowed to feel sorry for myself.
Friday, December 20, 2002
but just before I do: I've just idly browsed my sitemeter and realised there are a few people out there who come back here like daily.
you can always drop me a mail, you know. failing that, some general sticky vibes would be much appreciated right now.
;-)
you can always drop me a mail, you know. failing that, some general sticky vibes would be much appreciated right now.
;-)
oh. the numbers I was looking at say "post ovulation" but it's actually post the injection or LH surge. that would put me at more like 18 days. which would mean I should be up in the high 200s to be average, this site says.
basically, if it doesn't go up and up really fast, something is wrong.
think I'll go get some sleep. not feeling so hopeful.
basically, if it doesn't go up and up really fast, something is wrong.
think I'll go get some sleep. not feeling so hopeful.
I should mention that the "minor ache" is low down on my left side, where I felt my ovaries hurt. low abdominal pain is a symptom of an ectopic pregnancy. there is no point freaking out about it, but it's a higher risk in IVF treatment, and lower hcg levels are also a symptom.
nothing. a few minor aches. no bleeding yet, which must be good. 9.30 pm Friday. rang husband at 4.30 and told him he had neglected me when I really needed him. but didn't, as I'd considered, make him come home to find out the results. told him to go to his party, explained the whole thing.
half-bloody-pregnant. what a joke.
have been talking to embryo, promising it lots of good things, telling it about the jacaranda trees in full flower, and how it will just love the dog.
have formally invited it to join the world in all its glory.
we'll see.
suddenly the "there are nine more in storage" theory seems stupid. I want this one to work, now. it does matter.
got out of the pool after only 400 metres because my abdomen felt funny. I never, ever, stop before 1000 metres, no matter how tired or sore I am. but this is different. it's not a question of toughing it out.
half-bloody-pregnant. what a joke.
have been talking to embryo, promising it lots of good things, telling it about the jacaranda trees in full flower, and how it will just love the dog.
have formally invited it to join the world in all its glory.
we'll see.
suddenly the "there are nine more in storage" theory seems stupid. I want this one to work, now. it does matter.
got out of the pool after only 400 metres because my abdomen felt funny. I never, ever, stop before 1000 metres, no matter how tired or sore I am. but this is different. it's not a question of toughing it out.
oh, and the husband has not rung ALL DAY. I turned my mobile off at two. if he's really, really, really lucky I'll ring him when I get back from macrame-ing the lawn to tell him not to bother rushing home for news.
this article says any level indicates the embryo has been doing something. but I guess it could be on the way out, not the way up. am suddenly feeling like taking it very, very easy indeed this weekend. might cancel some unnecessary expeditions. but I will go swimming as planned - it is a destressor, not a source of stress.
this article says any level indicates the embryo has been doing something. but I guess it could be on the way out, not the way up. am suddenly feeling like taking it very, very easy indeed this weekend. might cancel some unnecessary expeditions. but I will go swimming as planned - it is a destressor, not a source of stress.
it seems I've managed the biologically impossible: I'm a little bit pregnant.
quickly (I have this window, a window on Google and one on my bulletin board all open and I'm dying for a swim to clear my head), Tara did my blood test this morning, I shopped and came home, then at 2.30ish I rang.
the first time I was on hold for a couple of minutes - I couldn't stand it and made a cup of tea.
second time, Melina answered the phone and put me through to Brooke, who got my file. she said "there is evidence of pregnancy hormones; the reading is 92. now, we like it to be over 100, so what we'd like you to do is come back for another test on Monday."
they'd like to see it triple. it can get better, she said, but I'm not really hopeful. have been told to take it easy over the weekend.
oh, and she said it probably means "some implantation" has happened. SOME? a little bit pregnant. hah.
off to make chicken noises and dance the macarena in the main street now. would make as much sense as anything else I could do.
quickly (I have this window, a window on Google and one on my bulletin board all open and I'm dying for a swim to clear my head), Tara did my blood test this morning, I shopped and came home, then at 2.30ish I rang.
the first time I was on hold for a couple of minutes - I couldn't stand it and made a cup of tea.
second time, Melina answered the phone and put me through to Brooke, who got my file. she said "there is evidence of pregnancy hormones; the reading is 92. now, we like it to be over 100, so what we'd like you to do is come back for another test on Monday."
they'd like to see it triple. it can get better, she said, but I'm not really hopeful. have been told to take it easy over the weekend.
oh, and she said it probably means "some implantation" has happened. SOME? a little bit pregnant. hah.
off to make chicken noises and dance the macarena in the main street now. would make as much sense as anything else I could do.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
Menstruation may occur earlier than expected or, more rarely, menstruation may be delayed.
Leakage of the pessary base may occur.
Side-effects of progesterone may include gastro-intestinal disturbances, acne, fluid retention or oedema, mass gain, allergic skin rashes or urticaria, mental depression, breast changes including discomfort or less frequently gynaecomastia and changes in libido. Alterations in liver function tests have been reported and jaundice has been reported less frequently
- cyclogest, a brand of progesterone some other women on my bulletin board have been taking. it also mentions fluid retention, which would explain my thirstiness.
Leakage of the pessary base may occur.
Side-effects of progesterone may include gastro-intestinal disturbances, acne, fluid retention or oedema, mass gain, allergic skin rashes or urticaria, mental depression, breast changes including discomfort or less frequently gynaecomastia and changes in libido. Alterations in liver function tests have been reported and jaundice has been reported less frequently
- cyclogest, a brand of progesterone some other women on my bulletin board have been taking. it also mentions fluid retention, which would explain my thirstiness.
a friend brought me back three small figures of prosperity from Asia. they are all old men, about 12cm high. one holds a bowl of rice, another what looks like a fruit, and the third has a small child in his arms.
they are arranged against the wall beside my desk in a semicircle. in my end-of-year-tidy, I've also found a small clear plastic angel with gold wings that my grandmother gave me. I've hung that so it dangles in the centre of the circle.
when I come back to work in three weeks it will either make me smile with a secret knowledge, or make me cry.
5:10pm. test at 8am. results about 2 or 3. no bleeding yet.
would YOU be able to think straight? wouldn't YOU resort to any tiny comforting magic you could muster?
they are arranged against the wall beside my desk in a semicircle. in my end-of-year-tidy, I've also found a small clear plastic angel with gold wings that my grandmother gave me. I've hung that so it dangles in the centre of the circle.
when I come back to work in three weeks it will either make me smile with a secret knowledge, or make me cry.
5:10pm. test at 8am. results about 2 or 3. no bleeding yet.
would YOU be able to think straight? wouldn't YOU resort to any tiny comforting magic you could muster?
apparently it can also make you hungrier. which seems right.
Progesterone sometimes delays menses even though pregnancy does not occur ....
so that's that. back to wondering.
so that's that. back to wondering.
well, nothing happening yet. is this good? is it just the progesterone? I imagine I feel my uterus being a little tight, a little sensitive; it isn't enjoying the bumps on the bike ride to and from work, for instance. but what does that mean?
T-22 hours. R-28-29 hours.
T-22 hours. R-28-29 hours.
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
no news continues to be good news.
talking to a friend about her visit to the dentist today.
and it occurred to me that no animal would sit still for dentists and opu's.
we have such control over our bodies. but today my body feels like something not-me. it's going to go whatever it's going to do. and if I'm pregnant, even less so. funny to think that after 36 years, it might be able to do this amazing thing; that it will know how. I hope.
talking to a friend about her visit to the dentist today.
and it occurred to me that no animal would sit still for dentists and opu's.
we have such control over our bodies. but today my body feels like something not-me. it's going to go whatever it's going to do. and if I'm pregnant, even less so. funny to think that after 36 years, it might be able to do this amazing thing; that it will know how. I hope.
feeling rather dizzy and tired, like I can feel the blood pumping around my body. but I feel sleepy every afternoon.
rang the clinic re the pessary that went west.
Sally the nurse did seem to think it was funny that I flushed it. surely it happens all the time?
anyway, I didn't mind. she said it probably didn't matter at all, and they only come in sets of seven - can't think why as they are loose in the box.
she offered to let me take the test a day early! I freaked out. maybe it's superstition but I have this thing in my head about Friday morning. so I'm holding out. also I don't want to get a negative on my last day of work and have to leave in tears. Friday is better.
Sally the nurse did seem to think it was funny that I flushed it. surely it happens all the time?
anyway, I didn't mind. she said it probably didn't matter at all, and they only come in sets of seven - can't think why as they are loose in the box.
she offered to let me take the test a day early! I freaked out. maybe it's superstition but I have this thing in my head about Friday morning. so I'm holding out. also I don't want to get a negative on my last day of work and have to leave in tears. Friday is better.
dream last night: I was in hospital for a procedure. afterwards was with a nurse and realised I was going to faint. it was sort of a series of small falls into darkness (I've never really fainted) then I was bleeding, and they took me to a room where there were several women and girls on beds, clearly in worse shape than me.
in a bag leaning against my chair I found a baby. I was horrified they'd left it there. but they said "you can put it under the shower if you like, we can't be bothered". its skull was like a clear glass globe; there was something wrong with it and it wouldn't survive. but I washed it anyway.
then a nurse with dark hair did my blood test - she just jabbed a needle into my arm over and over, like I was a pincushion. an older male dr showed me the result on a test stripe like the LH surge strips; he made me lean close to see the two faint blue lines beside the main line. I was pregnant.
then they put me in a goods lift where a hospital cleaner started to tell me it was for staff only - she could see I was weak and unwell and was picking on me - and I angrily said: "the DOCTOR told me to go in here."
that shut her up.
then I was left near a train station somewhere; ballarat or clifton hill, I think. and the dream moved on.
in a bag leaning against my chair I found a baby. I was horrified they'd left it there. but they said "you can put it under the shower if you like, we can't be bothered". its skull was like a clear glass globe; there was something wrong with it and it wouldn't survive. but I washed it anyway.
then a nurse with dark hair did my blood test - she just jabbed a needle into my arm over and over, like I was a pincushion. an older male dr showed me the result on a test stripe like the LH surge strips; he made me lean close to see the two faint blue lines beside the main line. I was pregnant.
then they put me in a goods lift where a hospital cleaner started to tell me it was for staff only - she could see I was weak and unwell and was picking on me - and I angrily said: "the DOCTOR told me to go in here."
that shut her up.
then I was left near a train station somewhere; ballarat or clifton hill, I think. and the dream moved on.
two sleeps to go
last night I was already feeling neglected; I'd spent the evening watering the garden at the house, and got back to the flat at 9 to find there wasn't even enough milk in the place for breakfast and the dog hadn't been walked. I realised I've done just as much running around, food shopping and housework and felt just as pressured these past 11 days as normal, and that he hasn't cooked me a single nutritious meal (he really only does pasta), and in general I wasn't being looked after.
then he said "my work Christmas party is on Friday (partners not invited); we don't have anything on, do we?"
no, I said, not apart from me having a pregnancy test Friday morning.
my plan was to call for my results in the afternoon, then tell him when he came home that night. I know he has to go to the work party for PR reasons, but it's the fact he forgot that hurt.
so what do I do? just not tell him until Saturday morning? I won't go into town just to tell him, not the Friday before Christmas, and why should I? nor will I tell him over the phone. and I'm off early on Saturday morning - more watering duties. so the baby might be 3 years old before he gets a chance to hear about it.
I secretly want him to offer to catch a cab home in the afternoon to be with me when I make the call. but I don't think I should have to ask for that, should I?
no period yet. day 14 past ovulation. the dr said the progesterone could delay my normal cycle, which is 12 days. temperature was ?36.9?37.9? this morning, which is equal to the highest I ever go. can't remember which b/c I convert into farenheit. think it must be 36.9 - 37.9 is over 100.
then he said "my work Christmas party is on Friday (partners not invited); we don't have anything on, do we?"
no, I said, not apart from me having a pregnancy test Friday morning.
my plan was to call for my results in the afternoon, then tell him when he came home that night. I know he has to go to the work party for PR reasons, but it's the fact he forgot that hurt.
so what do I do? just not tell him until Saturday morning? I won't go into town just to tell him, not the Friday before Christmas, and why should I? nor will I tell him over the phone. and I'm off early on Saturday morning - more watering duties. so the baby might be 3 years old before he gets a chance to hear about it.
I secretly want him to offer to catch a cab home in the afternoon to be with me when I make the call. but I don't think I should have to ask for that, should I?
no period yet. day 14 past ovulation. the dr said the progesterone could delay my normal cycle, which is 12 days. temperature was ?36.9?37.9? this morning, which is equal to the highest I ever go. can't remember which b/c I convert into farenheit. think it must be 36.9 - 37.9 is over 100.
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
I think I'm doing quite well really. 11 days past transfer, three sleeps to the test, one day past my normal period due date, and I'm only checking for signs of my period every two hours or so. very restrained. snort.
feeling so sorry for myself, and so sure it's not working, that I had a strong coffee and some chocolate slice at lunch. well, I had a headache and I just wantedto...
still no actual period, but it's coming, it's coming.
going crazy. cannot concentrate. nearly time for LUNCH, methinks.
am I or aren't I?
don't think I am.
but I might be
and what if I am?
or if I'm not?
and if I am, will I keep on being?
and will 8 am Friday ever arrive?
and will the six hours between then and getting my result be any shorter than these two weeks have been?
blither, blather, aargh.
going crazy.
am I or aren't I?
don't think I am.
but I might be
and what if I am?
or if I'm not?
and if I am, will I keep on being?
and will 8 am Friday ever arrive?
and will the six hours between then and getting my result be any shorter than these two weeks have been?
blither, blather, aargh.
going crazy.
just to reassure myself, from my clinic's site:
33% of women who have at least one embryo frozen at their first stimulated cycle egg retrieval in 1998-1999 will have at least one baby from their fresh or frozen embryos from that first egg retrieval, 49% by the second (whether or not any frozen at that retrieval) and 60% by the time all frozen embryos are used in their third egg retrieval.
nah, nothing happening. the other women on the bulletin board are reporting cramps, frequent urination etc. just waiting for those pink spots to appear.
Monday, December 16, 2002
lessee, what's happened?
no, nothing. and this is both good and bad. a little bleeding a couple of days ago would have been good, but it didn't happen. now I don't want it because that will just be my period.
I do have that strange letting-go feeling today in my abdomen, which probably means it will come tomorrow. am feeling fatalistic.
eventually spoke to my cousin, the one I haven't seen for ages who's also on IVF. she's on her first cycle, doing ICSI, at a small clinic in a large country town. I hope they
have good techhos; I quite like being with a large efficient "maching" like Melbourne IVF.
she's saying whatever will be will be, but she's also cut out all bad things and gone organic the last six months. so I suspect she wants a baby rather badly indeed.
four sleeps to go to the blood test. but I think I'll know before then. having those nine embryos (I keep re-reading the letter) makes it a bit easier to cope with the idea of this one not working.
no, nothing. and this is both good and bad. a little bleeding a couple of days ago would have been good, but it didn't happen. now I don't want it because that will just be my period.
I do have that strange letting-go feeling today in my abdomen, which probably means it will come tomorrow. am feeling fatalistic.
eventually spoke to my cousin, the one I haven't seen for ages who's also on IVF. she's on her first cycle, doing ICSI, at a small clinic in a large country town. I hope they
have good techhos; I quite like being with a large efficient "maching" like Melbourne IVF.
she's saying whatever will be will be, but she's also cut out all bad things and gone organic the last six months. so I suspect she wants a baby rather badly indeed.
four sleeps to go to the blood test. but I think I'll know before then. having those nine embryos (I keep re-reading the letter) makes it a bit easier to cope with the idea of this one not working.
Thursday, December 12, 2002
strange dream last night: in the middle of whatever I looked at my husband and realised he was still wearing his green hospital gear. the stuff the staff wear, not the patients.
I feel vaguely paralysed. like there's something important I should be doing but have to stay here, working, instead. not that I can do anything much about whether this embryo works or not. but I want to.
did I mention we met online?
Female, 36 years old, 5`4"/164cm
Body type: Average
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour: Dark Brown
Smoke: Never
Drink: Occasionally
Have children: No
Want children: Want
Ethnic background: Other Caucasian -
Religion: Not important
Occupation: other
Education level: Degree/Diploma
Political persuasion: Left wing
Vegetarian: No
Personality type: Private
Sign of the Zodiac: Gemini
testing, testing ...
Interests:
Music: None Listed
Reading: None Listed
Movies: None Listed
Sport: None Listed
there's a fine line between being vain and not giving enough information, I guess.
you have all the age, size, etc stuff in the form-filling-out bits. If it were that easy we could just do the whole thing by mail-order.
hang on, we are ...
creatively intelligent, intelligently creative, interested in lotsa stuff, plenty of depth but not too quick to open up, working, a good self-knowledge and a generosity towards those close, fit, attractive, fairly independent but not afraid to lean on trusted friends or the right person, fond of dogs, work's a good thing but there's a lot more besides ... that should be both of us.
Male, 34 years old, 6`0"/185cm
Body type: Slim
Eye colour: Hazel
Hair colour: Dark Brown
Smoke: Never
Drink: Occasionally
Have children: No
Want children: Undecided
Ethnic background: Other Caucasian - standard anglo-saxon flavour
Religion: Atheist
Occupation: other
Education level: Post Graduate
Political persuasion: Swinging voter
Vegetarian: No
Personality type: Private
Sign of the Zodiac: Gemini
philosopher wannabe, admirer of beauty, sometime disciple of modern culture
Interests:
Music: Bjork, Dead Can Dance, REM, Radiohead, The The, Sonic Youth, Garbage... most JJJ stuff, ancient music
Reading: anything by Martin Amis or William Gibson, my favourite linguistic contortionists
Movies: LA Confidential, Chasing Amy, Romeo + Juliet, Seven, The Piano, Once Were Warriors, Thelma & Louise, Bladerunner, groovy indie films, David Lynch
Sport: XC & downhill skiing, cycling, squash, rollerblading, anything exciting but not too life-threatening
I'm a bit of a thinker, who likes to delve into issues and have deep and/or philosophical conversation. This intellectual side is balanced by a love for contemporary art, dance, film and music, and general sensitivity. Oh, and by having a well-developed sense of irony. :^)
I appreciate the quirky and off-beat, and admit to being a bit of a style junkie. I enjoy the exciting and interesting. I love travelling, soaking up different cultures and experiences. I also enjoy groovy food. Other pieces of me: pragmatic, idealistic, honest, witty, dry humour, individualistic, affectionate, understanding, INTP (scary, I know ;-).
If you'd like to know more, drop me some mail!
Ideal Partner
Between 27 and 34 years old, at least 5'0"/154 cm, from Melbourne - City, and Melbourne - East, Melbourne - West , who is a Female looking for Just a friend relationships
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
more proof that a blood test is the only real sign. all of these symptoms are vague and could be caused by the pessaries.
trying to work instead of obsessing.
v. pleased to find I can claim some of the drugs on my health insurance.
have been stressing out about house renovations. am quite sure it hasn't worked. although the pessaries are having an effect and my temperature was relatively high this morning (98.4, I think), it's within the normal range. and if anything, I'm feeling the usual pmt tension.
oh, and last night I needed to wee before I could sleep. plop! a $4 pessary straight down the tube.
v. pleased to find I can claim some of the drugs on my health insurance.
have been stressing out about house renovations. am quite sure it hasn't worked. although the pessaries are having an effect and my temperature was relatively high this morning (98.4, I think), it's within the normal range. and if anything, I'm feeling the usual pmt tension.
oh, and last night I needed to wee before I could sleep. plop! a $4 pessary straight down the tube.
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
coffee lament: I am making myself a nice cup of tea. yet another.
I have realised that being pregnant, or trying to be, will put off-limits just about everything I like to eat at the Victoria Market. not the fresh stuff, of course. but the deli halls stacked with soft cheeses, dolmades, interesting cold meats, smoked salmon and readymade dips just look like Listeria Central now. I don't think I should even eat the grilled sausages that are just about my favourite lunch ever.
and the coffee! an early start this morning, and a quick market run to get supplies, in the spirit of trying to eat well (last night was an utter failure in that regard - tinned soup! (and scrambled eggs) and I'm trying to make up).
normally I'd finish the trip with a rich, creamy latte to get me going for the day, and God knows I need it; I'm tired, not keen on work and woke up at 5.30 am. but there's still a good chance that this top-quality Grade One embryo is trying to attach itself to my insides. and coffee's Bad, isn't it?
if you'd seen me standing by my car, keys in hand, you'd never have known that I was going through a massive inner struggle. I unlocked the car. locked it. got in. sat there. started it. turned it off. then, with a mighty burst of willpower and self-reproach, I started the engine and drove off, coffee-free.
this tea tastes like dishwater.
I have realised that being pregnant, or trying to be, will put off-limits just about everything I like to eat at the Victoria Market. not the fresh stuff, of course. but the deli halls stacked with soft cheeses, dolmades, interesting cold meats, smoked salmon and readymade dips just look like Listeria Central now. I don't think I should even eat the grilled sausages that are just about my favourite lunch ever.
and the coffee! an early start this morning, and a quick market run to get supplies, in the spirit of trying to eat well (last night was an utter failure in that regard - tinned soup! (and scrambled eggs) and I'm trying to make up).
normally I'd finish the trip with a rich, creamy latte to get me going for the day, and God knows I need it; I'm tired, not keen on work and woke up at 5.30 am. but there's still a good chance that this top-quality Grade One embryo is trying to attach itself to my insides. and coffee's Bad, isn't it?
if you'd seen me standing by my car, keys in hand, you'd never have known that I was going through a massive inner struggle. I unlocked the car. locked it. got in. sat there. started it. turned it off. then, with a mighty burst of willpower and self-reproach, I started the engine and drove off, coffee-free.
this tea tastes like dishwater.
Monday, December 09, 2002
from an email to a friend:
I can say that having someone say to you: "the embryo is going in now" is a completely weird experience, spiritually and emotionally. I felt like I should be feeling something; tearful, happy, astounded - but couldn't work out what it was, so went for general "emotional".
weight note: have lost 3lb in the past 2 weeks. this rarely happens. this is with eating normally, in fact better/more than usual, ie not depriving myself. and without exercising at all for the past five days. the drugs? or maybe giving up coffee? stress? strange, anyway.
I can say that having someone say to you: "the embryo is going in now" is a completely weird experience, spiritually and emotionally. I felt like I should be feeling something; tearful, happy, astounded - but couldn't work out what it was, so went for general "emotional".
weight note: have lost 3lb in the past 2 weeks. this rarely happens. this is with eating normally, in fact better/more than usual, ie not depriving myself. and without exercising at all for the past five days. the drugs? or maybe giving up coffee? stress? strange, anyway.
the kind of tank our embys are in!
from a strangely flippant page about IVF, which compares cryopreservation to "what Darth Vader did to Luke Skywalker in Star Wars
possibly the worst case of Mondayitis I've ever had.
woke up feeling very, very sleepy (at 5.45, after going to bed at 9.30) and convinced it hadn't worked. yesterday I did think it was working. I was even sure it was a boy-embryo. but this morning that feeling was gone.
of course it's too early to know any such thing. but I think the past five days have just caught up on me, I'm still annoyed that I agreed to go over to our house at lunchtime and water the garden in the hot sun yesterday, which knocked me out for the rest of the day, and even more annoyed that my husband asked me to do it, to collect his motorbike.
my ovaries were hurting more than either Saturday or Sunday - the Dr did say they might stay bloated for a few days - and I was just tired. but not, I think, pregnant-tired.
in the end I lay in bed for a while staring at the wall, slept for another 1/2 an hour and I've called in and left a message saying I'd rather not come in. there's work I can do at home and I did spend two hours of the day after OPU working here.
I can also do some of my outside-work work, get the washing put away and have an afternoon nap. the world can wait until tomorrow.
next time, I'm going to refuse to do anything. I'm going to do easy stuff at work, sneak off for naps and maybe even pull a few days' leave. I really feel like I haven't rested enough for this to work - even though I also think I should exercise, which I don't find stressful(did a couple of decent walks yesterday) - and I feel husband hasn't really taken on that message. He tries, in a nice sort of way, but perhaps doesn't have the energy himself to jump in and do all the washing, cooking and bedlinen-changing which I've done the past few days. I should do the cooking anyway - he's just not that good at it and pasta isn't the best incubation food.
so I'm feeling very sorry for myself, sad and unenthusiastic. might go off and surf some implantation information, even though I'm no longer visualising it actually happening to me right now.
and even though there are 9 frozen embies, that doesn't make me less unhappy about my belief that this one hasn't worked. it was so pretty with its four little cells.
woke up feeling very, very sleepy (at 5.45, after going to bed at 9.30) and convinced it hadn't worked. yesterday I did think it was working. I was even sure it was a boy-embryo. but this morning that feeling was gone.
of course it's too early to know any such thing. but I think the past five days have just caught up on me, I'm still annoyed that I agreed to go over to our house at lunchtime and water the garden in the hot sun yesterday, which knocked me out for the rest of the day, and even more annoyed that my husband asked me to do it, to collect his motorbike.
my ovaries were hurting more than either Saturday or Sunday - the Dr did say they might stay bloated for a few days - and I was just tired. but not, I think, pregnant-tired.
in the end I lay in bed for a while staring at the wall, slept for another 1/2 an hour and I've called in and left a message saying I'd rather not come in. there's work I can do at home and I did spend two hours of the day after OPU working here.
I can also do some of my outside-work work, get the washing put away and have an afternoon nap. the world can wait until tomorrow.
next time, I'm going to refuse to do anything. I'm going to do easy stuff at work, sneak off for naps and maybe even pull a few days' leave. I really feel like I haven't rested enough for this to work - even though I also think I should exercise, which I don't find stressful(did a couple of decent walks yesterday) - and I feel husband hasn't really taken on that message. He tries, in a nice sort of way, but perhaps doesn't have the energy himself to jump in and do all the washing, cooking and bedlinen-changing which I've done the past few days. I should do the cooking anyway - he's just not that good at it and pasta isn't the best incubation food.
so I'm feeling very sorry for myself, sad and unenthusiastic. might go off and surf some implantation information, even though I'm no longer visualising it actually happening to me right now.
and even though there are 9 frozen embies, that doesn't make me less unhappy about my belief that this one hasn't worked. it was so pretty with its four little cells.
Sunday, December 08, 2002
have visitors and will be quick.
got a bit hot and bothered today and had to come home and try to rest.
still having small twinges. think it's the hcgcassowaries pessaries.
12 sleeps to go.
feeling guilty that someone else on my bulletin board had 11 eggs but only two grade 2 embryos. two others weren't freezable. I hope ours defrost as well as they started.
got a bit hot and bothered today and had to come home and try to rest.
still having small twinges. think it's the hcg
12 sleeps to go.
feeling guilty that someone else on my bulletin board had 11 eggs but only two grade 2 embryos. two others weren't freezable. I hope ours defrost as well as they started.
Friday, December 06, 2002
a very technical document with lots of answers about fragmentation, division etc.
apart from clearly being run by the anti-abortionists behind a "funky" front, this site does have some interesting pix of developmental stages of the embryo. but I'm getting waaaay ahead of myself.
in other news, have realised that being in the 2ww means I can make husband do stressful things like ringing our *(&)^ architect, and get him to lift all heavy objects.
kewl!
in other news, have realised that being in the 2ww means I can make husband do stressful things like ringing our *(&)^ architect, and get him to lift all heavy objects.
kewl!
10/10!!!!
this is exceptionally unusual.
there were two Grade Ones, six Grade Twos and two Grade threes. two - a 2 and a 3 - had only 3 cells. that's just because they weren't dividing as fast as the rest.
when I saw the dr today I said "no, I'm not going anywhere near you again" and she said "you will when I tell you the results". she's very pleased with us indeed. so my husband's sperm are clever little sperm, and my eggs VERY fertile.
especially given my age, I'm so pleased. before OPU, we would have been happy with five. now we have nine in the freezer!!!
(normally I hate the multiple exclamation mark method of showing excitement, but this is totally a red-letter day.) It means we have lots of goes before we have to do IVF again, and I'm secretly hoping we'll have several still in the freezer when I fall, so it improves our chances of a second.
the actual transfer was probably one of the strangest experiences of my life. I got into the chair and the technician, Howard, who was in a room across the hallway, focussed the camera on the embryo. we could clearly see the four cells, like a four-leafed clover. it looked watery, with grey edges, like looking down on four glasses placed close together. then he sucked it up in a pipette and brought it in.
the insertion apparatus is a bit like a Pap smear; a metal thing to hold the cervix open, and a small catheter. I didn't really look at that lot.
transfer was at 2:20 pm. I have no idea how I'm supposed to cope with the idea that there is an actual embryo floating freely in my uterus, looking to attach itself.
nothing I can do but try to eat right, get lots of sleep and utterly refuse to become stressed about anything. I've got some HCG pessaries to use for the next 14 nights, and a blood test form for December 20. we'll do that at the clinic, (note to self: 8am blood test appt) so we can be sure of getting the results (by phone) at 2pm.
the nurse who fitted us out with all that was Janice or Janet, I think.
WOO-HOO!! I feel so odd. I suppose it's OK to walk? today was my third coffee-free day, though I had two cups of tea this am and am now (post-nap) having green tea and a few bits of chocolate. a glass of red wine last night. no more of that, either.
this is exceptionally unusual.
there were two Grade Ones, six Grade Twos and two Grade threes. two - a 2 and a 3 - had only 3 cells. that's just because they weren't dividing as fast as the rest.
when I saw the dr today I said "no, I'm not going anywhere near you again" and she said "you will when I tell you the results". she's very pleased with us indeed. so my husband's sperm are clever little sperm, and my eggs VERY fertile.
especially given my age, I'm so pleased. before OPU, we would have been happy with five. now we have nine in the freezer!!!
(normally I hate the multiple exclamation mark method of showing excitement, but this is totally a red-letter day.) It means we have lots of goes before we have to do IVF again, and I'm secretly hoping we'll have several still in the freezer when I fall, so it improves our chances of a second.
the actual transfer was probably one of the strangest experiences of my life. I got into the chair and the technician, Howard, who was in a room across the hallway, focussed the camera on the embryo. we could clearly see the four cells, like a four-leafed clover. it looked watery, with grey edges, like looking down on four glasses placed close together. then he sucked it up in a pipette and brought it in.
the insertion apparatus is a bit like a Pap smear; a metal thing to hold the cervix open, and a small catheter. I didn't really look at that lot.
transfer was at 2:20 pm. I have no idea how I'm supposed to cope with the idea that there is an actual embryo floating freely in my uterus, looking to attach itself.
nothing I can do but try to eat right, get lots of sleep and utterly refuse to become stressed about anything. I've got some HCG pessaries to use for the next 14 nights, and a blood test form for December 20. we'll do that at the clinic, (note to self: 8am blood test appt) so we can be sure of getting the results (by phone) at 2pm.
the nurse who fitted us out with all that was Janice or Janet, I think.
WOO-HOO!! I feel so odd. I suppose it's OK to walk? today was my third coffee-free day, though I had two cups of tea this am and am now (post-nap) having green tea and a few bits of chocolate. a glass of red wine last night. no more of that, either.
Thursday, December 05, 2002
well, that's fairly excrutiating.
I have a transfer appointment at 2 o'clock tomorrow, but Mitzi the nurse wouldn't tell me how many had fertilised.
she was v. nice and gave me what is obviously a standard line about all that still happening, but the fact that I had an appt was a good sign.
I shall have to insist on a more detailed report after tomorrow. I want to know not only how many viable ones I have, eg available for transfer/freezing, but also how many started dividing then stopped. this is important information and may affect what we decide to do in future.
it was all a bit of an anticlimax, and now I have another 22 1/2 hours to wait. think I'll attempt another walk then do some work. my body is starting to demand activity - it rarely goes 48 hours like this without a ride or swim - but my abdomen is forbidding it.
I have a transfer appointment at 2 o'clock tomorrow, but Mitzi the nurse wouldn't tell me how many had fertilised.
she was v. nice and gave me what is obviously a standard line about all that still happening, but the fact that I had an appt was a good sign.
I shall have to insist on a more detailed report after tomorrow. I want to know not only how many viable ones I have, eg available for transfer/freezing, but also how many started dividing then stopped. this is important information and may affect what we decide to do in future.
it was all a bit of an anticlimax, and now I have another 22 1/2 hours to wait. think I'll attempt another walk then do some work. my body is starting to demand activity - it rarely goes 48 hours like this without a ride or swim - but my abdomen is forbidding it.
about to make The Call.
have been sitting here with pen and paper, working out when I'd have a second even if I had one first off now. I'd be at least 38, and if this takes six months, I'd have to get pregnant again within six months to avoid having a second child at 40.
and wondering how you trade off the possibility of only having one child against the risk of having a disabled or ill child? I've studied biomedical ethics at uni, and it gasses on about how it's better to be born at all, so the disabled can't grumble, or some such.
then there's the risk of Down's increasing as I age, and is it worse for my body to have two within three years or two at once?
I don't think I'll hold out on the one-at-a time thing for long. plus, what do we do when I'm 39 and trying to conceive? I may be a lot less willing to take the softly, softly approach of one at a time then. so we could end up with THREE.
(which I secretly wouldn't mind. or wouldn't have if I'd had time to have them serially. husband wants two b/c he's one of two. I'm one of three. I like the more complex dynamic. )
I guess if I get one I'll love it so much that a second will just be a regret if it doesn't happen. though I've come across other women who are fairly unhappy about not having a second. I think I should shut up and make that call.
have been sitting here with pen and paper, working out when I'd have a second even if I had one first off now. I'd be at least 38, and if this takes six months, I'd have to get pregnant again within six months to avoid having a second child at 40.
and wondering how you trade off the possibility of only having one child against the risk of having a disabled or ill child? I've studied biomedical ethics at uni, and it gasses on about how it's better to be born at all, so the disabled can't grumble, or some such.
then there's the risk of Down's increasing as I age, and is it worse for my body to have two within three years or two at once?
I don't think I'll hold out on the one-at-a time thing for long. plus, what do we do when I'm 39 and trying to conceive? I may be a lot less willing to take the softly, softly approach of one at a time then. so we could end up with THREE.
(which I secretly wouldn't mind. or wouldn't have if I'd had time to have them serially. husband wants two b/c he's one of two. I'm one of three. I like the more complex dynamic. )
I guess if I get one I'll love it so much that a second will just be a regret if it doesn't happen. though I've come across other women who are fairly unhappy about not having a second. I think I should shut up and make that call.
some Australian infertility links. at least sitting home recovering is letting me do some heavy blogging, huh? of COURSE I'm obsessed.
I've been looking at the other program's site and I'm glad I'm on this one.
Melbourne's site (mine) seems to give much more detailed info (even if some stages are missing/broken links) and Monash (the other one) seems to expect patients to "take responsibility" for shots themselves. that would have been too much for me the first time around (though of course I would have managed). am fairly sure that's the one the cousin's on
in other news, took the dog for a walk. it was not as easy at it sounds, and the second half, coming home, was a slow hobble. I only went about 400 metres all up, too.
and some IVF FAQ pages
Melbourne's site (mine) seems to give much more detailed info (even if some stages are missing/broken links) and Monash (the other one) seems to expect patients to "take responsibility" for shots themselves. that would have been too much for me the first time around (though of course I would have managed). am fairly sure that's the one the cousin's on
in other news, took the dog for a walk. it was not as easy at it sounds, and the second half, coming home, was a slow hobble. I only went about 400 metres all up, too.
and some IVF FAQ pages
thursday morning; howling wind and rain outside and I'm doing some work at home and trying not to move too fast. the crampy/pain got worse and I was doubled over when I walked. I still can't cough and my hot pack is my friend. that, and the odd Panadol. but I slept pretty well last night all the same.
poor little embys; this weather makes me want to look after them. I guess they're warm where they are, though. it's five hours until I can call the clinic and find out when I'm going for transfer and hopefully how many we got.
last night I was told that a cousin I saw a lot of when we were kids is also doing IVF. I suspect it's because of her partner - he has children - but I'm going to call her as soon as my folks pass on her number. she's the only non-Internet person I know who is doing this. she lives in the country, and I think she's probably with the other large IVF provider we have here. the treatment is different for everyone, but it will be good to commiserate with someone who understands; I think friends only want to know so much, and don't realise how overwhelming it can be. plus almost all my friends already have kids, and aren't always reticent about letting me know they know so much more about mothering. not that they don't offer sympathy ...
am now getting ready for the "2ww" - work is slowing down and I plan to distract myself with Christmas shopping etc. we have decided not to expect it to work the first time. I just hope we get enough frozen embys to do a few transfers before I have to go through this again. on the third go or so would be nice - not so long it gets dispiriting, but a reasonable and realistic time to prepare ourselves for.
poor little embys; this weather makes me want to look after them. I guess they're warm where they are, though. it's five hours until I can call the clinic and find out when I'm going for transfer and hopefully how many we got.
last night I was told that a cousin I saw a lot of when we were kids is also doing IVF. I suspect it's because of her partner - he has children - but I'm going to call her as soon as my folks pass on her number. she's the only non-Internet person I know who is doing this. she lives in the country, and I think she's probably with the other large IVF provider we have here. the treatment is different for everyone, but it will be good to commiserate with someone who understands; I think friends only want to know so much, and don't realise how overwhelming it can be. plus almost all my friends already have kids, and aren't always reticent about letting me know they know so much more about mothering. not that they don't offer sympathy ...
am now getting ready for the "2ww" - work is slowing down and I plan to distract myself with Christmas shopping etc. we have decided not to expect it to work the first time. I just hope we get enough frozen embys to do a few transfers before I have to go through this again. on the third go or so would be nice - not so long it gets dispiriting, but a reasonable and realistic time to prepare ourselves for.
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
funny to think that if they're going to start, they're starting right now. this is the moment of their conception - or a couple of hours ago was.
I will be able to tell them they were conceived on the day of a total eclipse in Australia; we won't see it all here, and there's heavy cloud right now. but it's still a pretty cool, and I think auspicious, sign.
poor little darlings, there in their glass containers when they should be safe and warm inside me. c'est la (artificial) vie.
I will be able to tell them they were conceived on the day of a total eclipse in Australia; we won't see it all here, and there's heavy cloud right now. but it's still a pretty cool, and I think auspicious, sign.
poor little darlings, there in their glass containers when they should be safe and warm inside me. c'est la (artificial) vie.
I am sure when I look back at this phase in my life I will remember nothing except walks in the park with the dog (and sometimes the husband) and getting needles.
It's only four hours after they wheeled me out and we've already been home for 90 minutes. husband is still crashed out (poor dear had to um, do his bit, then hold my hand. such hard work, no wonder he's exhausted!
/sarcasm/
anyway, yes it hurt a lot. probably more than anything I've had done to me before, but then I've never had a broken bone or traumatic injury. the anaesthetist had explained how close a large artery was, so I tried to lie still, but I moved a bit and did moan and yelp quite a lot. so much for not being able to remember it, floating off in a cloud of sedatives, etc.
***THERE ARE 10 EGGS!***
we only hoped for 8 or so. now I'm trying to control my fantasies about getting 9 top-grade embryos out of that lot. I can't call them again until tomorrow afternoon, when I'll get a time for one to be transferred. we'll freeze the rest; trying to avoid twins at this stage. I hope that tomorrow they can tell me how many embryos we got. so glad I have a medical certificate so I won't have to work tomorrow, and the transfer is Friday so I have all weekend to rest up and think sticky thoughts.
the anaesthetist was really nice; funny, as the others I've had in the past tend to be dour. Kevin Moriarity, and chief nurse Gina. more names for my baby thank-you cards.
he said "has anyone ever used the pickup line 'you have nice veins' on you?" and I informed him it wouldn't work as my husband was just over there. nurse talked about Cradle Mt, and dr just looked like a little Raggedy Ann with her hair popping out of her floppy surgical hat. husband held my hand, but I don't think he realised just how much it hurt. we spent 1 1/2 hrs in "recovery" which was really just me eating as much as I could manage after 13 hours without food or drink. much better than a general anaesthetic.
now I feel all cramped up and very protective of my abdomen. waiting until Friday will drive me CRAZY.
It's only four hours after they wheeled me out and we've already been home for 90 minutes. husband is still crashed out (poor dear had to um, do his bit, then hold my hand. such hard work, no wonder he's exhausted!
/sarcasm/
anyway, yes it hurt a lot. probably more than anything I've had done to me before, but then I've never had a broken bone or traumatic injury. the anaesthetist had explained how close a large artery was, so I tried to lie still, but I moved a bit and did moan and yelp quite a lot. so much for not being able to remember it, floating off in a cloud of sedatives, etc.
***THERE ARE 10 EGGS!***
we only hoped for 8 or so. now I'm trying to control my fantasies about getting 9 top-grade embryos out of that lot. I can't call them again until tomorrow afternoon, when I'll get a time for one to be transferred. we'll freeze the rest; trying to avoid twins at this stage. I hope that tomorrow they can tell me how many embryos we got. so glad I have a medical certificate so I won't have to work tomorrow, and the transfer is Friday so I have all weekend to rest up and think sticky thoughts.
the anaesthetist was really nice; funny, as the others I've had in the past tend to be dour. Kevin Moriarity, and chief nurse Gina. more names for my baby thank-you cards.
he said "has anyone ever used the pickup line 'you have nice veins' on you?" and I informed him it wouldn't work as my husband was just over there. nurse talked about Cradle Mt, and dr just looked like a little Raggedy Ann with her hair popping out of her floppy surgical hat. husband held my hand, but I don't think he realised just how much it hurt. we spent 1 1/2 hrs in "recovery" which was really just me eating as much as I could manage after 13 hours without food or drink. much better than a general anaesthetic.
now I feel all cramped up and very protective of my abdomen. waiting until Friday will drive me CRAZY.
9 am.
surgery at 11.
have kicked husband off Web so I can have a mindless blog.
have nothing much to say. ovaries don't hurt much; are just lumps. hope nothing's popped. am washed, makeup, jewellery and nail polish-free and have a little bag with a nightie and magazines.
have been wondering whether they actually give me a local anaesthetic or not. maybe the sedation is just to keep me still.
better go.
fingers, but not legs, crossed.
surgery at 11.
have kicked husband off Web so I can have a mindless blog.
have nothing much to say. ovaries don't hurt much; are just lumps. hope nothing's popped. am washed, makeup, jewellery and nail polish-free and have a little bag with a nightie and magazines.
have been wondering whether they actually give me a local anaesthetic or not. maybe the sedation is just to keep me still.
better go.
fingers, but not legs, crossed.
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
what my clinic says about profasi. it also makes your nipples sore, and your mind vaguer than usual.
it's OK.
She rang while I was heading home.
she's doing transfers friday afternoon. stupid receptionist should not have told me she was 'only consulting'.
I mean, you're dealing with stressed out women full of hormones here. should be EXTRA careful what you say to them.
so I was much happier last night.
the trigger shot at the Royal Women's was the quickest yet. Graham the male nurse said "quick jab" and I was out of there. funny being in emergency at 11pm at night. not funny. strange. so today I'm sleepy, full of hormones, nervous about tomorrow, trying to finish heaps of work and I have very tender nipples.
time for a relaxing lunch-thing to take the edge of this surreal day.
She rang while I was heading home.
she's doing transfers friday afternoon. stupid receptionist should not have told me she was 'only consulting'.
I mean, you're dealing with stressed out women full of hormones here. should be EXTRA careful what you say to them.
so I was much happier last night.
the trigger shot at the Royal Women's was the quickest yet. Graham the male nurse said "quick jab" and I was out of there. funny being in emergency at 11pm at night. not funny. strange. so today I'm sleepy, full of hormones, nervous about tomorrow, trying to finish heaps of work and I have very tender nipples.
time for a relaxing lunch-thing to take the edge of this surreal day.
Monday, December 02, 2002
she hasn't called yet. am feeling irrationally fatalistic. we can't make her do it. it will end up being some man, and he won't pick the right embroyo. it will probably hurt a lot and it won't work.
I shouldn't be here. going home asap.
I shouldn't be here. going home asap.
and I'm particularly cross that I seem to be hearing this stuff from the nurses etc. dr saw me last Friday; she could have at least prepared me for this then.
I should be working, but I can't focus.
the nurse who rang with my times - 10:50 pm shot, 11 am procedure - also dropped, in passing, the fact that my dr wasn't going to working on Friday morning. this is when we should be doing transfer.
I then rang dr's rooms and B the less friendly receptionist told me that dr wasn't working Saturday either. which means she won't be doing it then either. she said dr would be working friday pm, but not IVF and informed me "that's her discretion", which I thought was quite unnecessary when I was clearly alarmed at the idea.
now, we went to a lot of trouble to time it so my dr would be around, given the trouble I've had with catheters, and I thought that was why we did the dummy run. I made it extra, extra clear I really wanted her to do it. I particularly don't want a male dr - that would be the first one in the whole process - and I have an irrational desire to have it all go as planned.
so I'm hurtling round the office with my mobile, running out to back lane to call husband, paging dr, etc. husband wants to take a piece out of drs ear if it turns out we have some unknown person doing transfer, and because I'm so upset.
now I'm going off to the loos (with my phone in case she rings back) to cry.
v. busy because I have OPU!!! on Wednesday, so only 2 days to do all my work.
glad it's Wednesday. rather worried about one popping before the day, and not only being lost, but affecting the development of the others, as I think can happen. hope I'm still getting my Synarel right. apparently going 5-6 days without a scan before the
no more of that anyway. one big shot at the women's hospital tonight, then in for the pickup early on Wednesday. don't know what time yet.
of course, there are still lots of things that can go wrong. eggs may be no good. fertilisation may not happen. embryos may not grow. that's before we even get to the two-week wait.
but still, it's rather exciting.
getting definite twinges today. that higher dose (300UI since Friday) must be kicking in.
today's nurse (on the phone): Rose.
glad it's Wednesday. rather worried about one popping before the day, and not only being lost, but affecting the development of the others, as I think can happen. hope I'm still getting my Synarel right. apparently going 5-6 days without a scan before the
no more of that anyway. one big shot at the women's hospital tonight, then in for the pickup early on Wednesday. don't know what time yet.
of course, there are still lots of things that can go wrong. eggs may be no good. fertilisation may not happen. embryos may not grow. that's before we even get to the two-week wait.
but still, it's rather exciting.
getting definite twinges today. that higher dose (300UI since Friday) must be kicking in.
today's nurse (on the phone): Rose.
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