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1dp6dt

Weird crampy feeling on right side, pain radiating down right leg (as it will do sometimes when I have period cramps although then it’s usually down both legs).

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Today Part II

I feel fat. I wore my fattest fat pants today. I’m so bloated. And all i wanted to do today is eat. I think
That’s a depression thing. The doc told me I could stay on the anti-depressant. That makes me happy. I know it’s a touchy subject but with everything going on I think I’d tailspin big time without it. It was a huge relief. For now. The only real difference today from last time was the “if it works” not the ” when it works” statements. Crap. They were good little guys though i think. Well excellent and good. Thats ok right? I think I’ll continue to try and ignore. I hope I can. 9 days to go.

Today

3 thawed, 2 survived. 1 excellent, 1 good…I forgot to get a pineapple, but does pineapple really make a difference?

It’s Friday, It’s Friday

I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer as of late. My blog was supposed to be a depressing catalog of infertility ramblings, rather than a depressing site dedicated to my feelings about cancer. I apologize if I have thrown you off subject.

You’ll be happy to know that Day 1 “DPO” (haha with an FET you can almost pretend you are doing this the normal way because you are following somewhat of  a cycle), and I have no progesterone symptoms yet. Oh, don’t think I’m that naive, I know that they are coming. I said YET. By this time next week I can assure you that I will be a raving lunatic all hopped up on hormones.

One of the things about cancer is that it affects all people differently. Hearing about it for the first time, many people offer condolences. Many just shake thier head quietly and look away. Some are emboldended to ask the tough questions, but mostly those are the people who really have no business asking at all. They are emotionally removed but want the gory details. Then there are the people who have loved ones who have fought the disease and lost.  There is a chance that my mother could be a survivor, but there is a chance that she could not. There is a chance that sometime in the future I may be one of these people who’s faces plainly reveal a familiarity with the pain that is cancer, as soon as the word is uttered. They have been where I am  now standing. They know the long journey that I am about to embark upon. It is something that only those who have been with someone who has fought cancer can know. They know that words can not prepare me. That there is no book or no doctor given explaination that can prepare me for the horror of watching someone you love endure chemotherapy. Endure being sick. Endure being unable to eat or drink. Endure frightening physical deterioration. I know that they feel sorry for me, but in many cases I know that my admission that the disease has settled itself upon my family opens old wounds for them. Wounds that have quite possibly never healed. My story may dredge up old sadnesses or anger long repressed. There is anger. Cancer is a very maddening disease. It is not selective of who it crawls into, stealing away their strength and taking over cells. It does not care if you have children or a husband or a wife or grand kids or future plans. It only cares that you have blood and tissue and cells to feed on. It is a hungry disease and it will eat you away, giving no thought to the massive destruction that it leaves behind. And the guilt. There is such guilt. About not spending enough time, about not feeling the right way,  about feeling angry at the disease. Maybe even at the person for being sick. We feel guilty for not knowing sooner.  We knew she wasn’t feeling well, why didn’t we make her get checked out sooner? How could we not have known? How did we let it get this far without intervening? We should have known that the cancer was there.   There are people that know these feelings. That have been through them. Have been to hell with a loved one but come back alone. That is what cancer does. It leaves you alone.

Monday, I Think, but Does it Really Matter Anyway?

To say that I’ve come a long way would be an understatement. As I said in earlier posts, I’m now queen of my own shots. No biggie. So now, the girl who gets all vomit-y at the thought of anything bodily fluid related just sat and ate pop-chips (gluten free!) with a cup of yuck bile-y stuff from a wound drain right in front of me. DIDN’T. EVEN. FLINCH.

So thats fantastic, let’s see what else…I got stuck in the elevator and had to push the doors open to escape. Not on my list of things I’d ever wanted to do. Panic attack set in but I regained my cool pretty quickly and got the damn doors open. Coulda been worse.

I’ve learned that my mom, God love her, is a pain in the ass in-patient and I feel for her nurses when I’m not here to be at her beck and call. Hospital nurses should get major awards and medals and things, because I’m sure shes not the only one, or even the worst.

I’ve learned that I love hospital social workers. They are amazing people full of compassion and resources and free coffee cart cards 8)

I’ve learned that I really miss my brother even though he only left  yesterday and that he is more important to me than I can even express. I wouldn’t have gotten through the week without him. Ditto for my dad. My parents divorced when I was about 13, but dad was the one who flew my brother in within hours, paid for a hotel room for us so that we didnt have to drive the hour + back and forth, ran errands for us, was there within the hour to comfort me when we got the diagnosis, and was there to sit with us during her surgery.

Tomorrow morning I have an ultrasound to see how things are going. For the first time in all of this, I messed up and left my Lupron bottle (almost empty) out of the fridge when I left the house this morning. Husband made it home and I’m hoping he remembered to put it back in the fridge. I’m also hoping that tomorrow will be my last lupron dose. I can’t even remember when I started it to be honest. I know it was probably about a week before the shit hit the fan around here.  I’m still on 3 estrace tablets a day and will be moving up to four tomorrow. No real side effects, just some over the right ovary twinges.  I can’t tell if I’m more emotional, because well, It has been an emotional week anyway. The worst week, actually. But hey, silver lining, I have had NO TIME to obsess over this FET. I don’t even think about it except when I’m taking my meds. That is nice. I really just hope that it works. And I really just  hope that my mom gets out of here soon and that we can move forward with the rest of her treatment. I hate cancer. I hate it.

Hope (?)

Let me just start by saying that my husband suprised me by making it to the appointment this morning. There he was, as I was pulling in, waiting on the sidewalk. That means so much to me. I don’t really talk about husband all that much, mostly out of respect for his privacy, but I have to say that things haven’t been easy. Infertility sucks. It sucks for the woman, it sucks for the man and it sucks for the couple. We both deal with our emotions in completely different ways. I pull into myself. I want quiet. I want to think. I want to reflect. I want to be alone. He has a hard time with that. So he tries to pull me out. Which makes me retreat further. Its been this totally unhealthy dance, backward and forward, pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. I recently made the conscious effort to try and come out on my own. Be  more open. Not just totally shut down. Its been hard but it I can honestly say that I am seeing some positive results. In the end, we love each other. We may not like the way things are going, or what is happening, but we both have the same end goal at heart; to raise our children in a happy and loving home.

So anyway, back to the appointment.

DR: “Well it would’ve been nice if you would have done the chromosomal testing because then we wouldn’t be sitting here going over the what ifs and we’d have a more definative answer”.

Husband: “The PA told us not to. There was such a high chance it would be inconclusive, she said it wouldn’t be worth it”.

DR: “That was the OB/GYN. They don’t deal with pregnancy loss in the same way we do”.

ME: “No, it was the PA”.

DR. “Well whether it was the doctor or her PA”…

H: “NO, it was YOUR PA”.

DR.: My PA would’ve never said that, thats not how we do it here”. Gets noticeably…angry? frustrated? uncomfortable?

H: “Well she did. I don’t remember her name but she was brand new at the time. She told us it was her first week working for you”.

So ya. There was that “uncomfortable” moment where husband and I knew we were right, but I’m also sitting there silently praying that husband will back down because I don’t want the man that literally has posession of our future offspring to hate us.

“ME”: Ok, well either way, we did what was recommended at the time, and we can’t take it back. Moving on”.

H: “This has been really hard on her. She has post-partum and everything and it seems like the minute she miscarried you were done with us”.

Doctor is again visibly agitated, I’m uncomfortable, and I wan’t to talk uteruses and embryos with the man. Husband, bless his heart is trying to protect me, but I need closure on this miscarriage and to move forward.

ME: “I’d rather not discuss the emotions of a miscarriage at this point. Can we please get back to my uterus”.

Let me say that I’m completely 100% on husband’s side here. But like I said, DR. is a very good DR., and I don’t really want turn his office against us before we go through another procedure. I’m a wimp when it comes to that kind of stuff, what can I say? I pick my battles carefully, especially when my opponent has posession of my 6 embryos.

And speaking of embryos. Yes, we have 6. 2: good/good; 2: good/fair 2: fair/fair. (They are rated good, fair or poor at this clinic). The 2 embryos transferred in June were good/good. So am I optimistic? I’m not sure yet. Cus the 2 good/good ones didn’t work before.

So I am waiting on an authorization from my insurance company to see if they will pay for a sonohystogram, which, THANK GOODNESS, is not the same as the HSG (painfully shooting dye through your fallopian tubes). The SHG, which I will be  having, shoots saline into your uterus and is suposedly not painful. Supposedly. It will be used to make sure that the removal of the uterine septum didn’t leave behind any scarring that could have contributed to my miscarriage. WAIT A SECOND. Didn’t I remove the septum because a lack of blood flow, should the embryo implant on the septum, would cause a miscarriage? And now we’re wondering if lack of blood flow caused by scarring from removal of the septum caused the miscarriage? ARGH.

BUT, he doesn’t think that is what it was. (But we don’t know for sure because we are morons who didn’t have the tissue tested)

SOOOOO, I am to STAY ON THE BIRTH CONTROL cus the SHG has to be performed while on birth control. (ick, I REALLY hope this new pack isn’t as bad as the last).

Heres how it could play out…

1) Birth control. (check)

2) Sonohystogram this month (pending)

3) Start Estrogen pills to build up uterine lining in 2-3 weeks if SHG checks out.

4) Begin progesterone when lining is optimal

5) “Day 6” transfer of 2 embryos right before Thanksgiving.

There is also some lupron in there somewhere, but I’m fuzzy on that particular detail. I am DEATHLY afraid of Lupron. DEATHLY. I have only heard horror stories about it. I didn’t have it with my last cycle, I was suppressed only with birth control pills. I’m scared…

So anyway, we’ll see. Husband wants to jump on the band wagon immediately and hopefully do another transfer before Thanksgiving. And of course I want to too. But I also know that with Christmas and car registrations and a freakin trip to Hawaii, its gonna be hard to pull off. REALLY HARD. Of course if we waited until January we’d be using money out of husband’s “loyalty bonus” so maybe it would be ok for the money to sit on a credit card for a month? I dunno. I just don’t know. These are some tough decisions. Being a grown up is hard. Remember being young and not ready for kids just yet and taking birth control to actually not get pregnant? And not just as the start of some crazy chemical cocktail to  hopefully get and keep you pregnant? UGH.