Friday, February 10, 2012

Dipping my toe

I did a little blog housekeeping.  I took some stuff down that sounded pretty aggressive and subsequently received no comments.  When will I learn that ya'll want to hear about my latest pie recipe, not my unladylike rants?  There are a bunch of drafts that I just keep for a little private diary, but I have no doubt that Google is trolling my private posts to find better ways to sell me things I don't need.  OK, so I'm still a cynic.

Yesterday I started to realize I was a public infertile blogger with a private mindset, a total oxymoron.  So, I should share for the good of the group.  I hesitated to share this (and might actually take it back at some point, sorry) because I was really getting into my arguments for accepting childlessness and because of infertile blogger solidarity, a mindset I very much believe in.

Of course I don't want to betray the latter but I think these are facts worth sharing and documenting.

It all happened so fast.  At about CD 3, I was feeling pretty good.  I wrote about treating myself a bit more gently and that really made a difference in my mood.  The idea of talking to the RE again was gaining traction in my little mind.  I told my husband about this on CD 4 and called the doctor that day.  I had barely uttered the words, "I think we're ready to get started...."  She said, "well, you're supposed to start the medication on day 3."  Oh, great.  But apparently CD 5 was also a definite possible starting point so I locked up the hubby and we drove to see the doc last Friday morning.

The protocol was fifty micrograms (I think that's the measurement) of Follistim from CD 5 to the first u/s on CD 11.  Depending on what the first or possible subsequent ultrasounds revealed, I take a trigger shot (Ovidrel.)  My husband started out giving me the injections (in the thigh) but then I got the hang of it.  Besides, he's not always around so I had to do it at some point.  There was really no pain from the injections and my mood was pretty darn good on the Follistim.  So, I have no complaints.  I didn't have to pay for the Follistim, just the Ovidrel and that set us back $135.

I was worried and shared my concerns with a fellow blogger that the RE, not being Catholic, was not at all Creighton minded so having the first u/s on CD 11 seemed darn premature.  I have never had a peak day that early and was anxious I was just wasting my money on an early ultrasound.  None of this infertility stuff is covered by my super not-so-great insurance.  Being budget conscious, I have a special little fund for these expenditures.  Well, I was bolstered by the fact that peak-type mucus started on CD 9!  And it's been really great for four days.  Praise God, I have been doing a lot of Hail Marys.  CD 11 was yesterday and I had the u/s done at my local hospital, the same place where we did the SA, blood draws, and baseline u/s.

It took a fair amount of time to explain to the staff what the heck I was doing.  What's a follicular ultrasound? The first receptionist asked me if my bladder was full.  Um, it's transvag, so that's not necessary, doll.  The u/s tech was the same one from a year and a half ago.  She was very sweet and even called a friend of hers that worked in a fertili.ty cl.inic to explain what she was to look for.  Even though I'd complained bitterly about transvag u/s, it wasn't that bad especially because I was hopeful and curious about the follicle sizes.

The tech didn't give me any measurements but did show me a few images and yeah, the follicles looked big.  I followed up with the RE and she asked me if the tech told me the sizes?  "No, was she supposed to?"  Well, that would have been helpful to get the info ASAP.  I guess the hospital had to have their radiologist prepare a whole dang report on my u/s.  I called them four times throughout the day imploring them to hurry it up and get the report to my doc.  Will a preliminary report work?  YES!  Fax it!

My doctor was vague about the results yesterday afternoon just telling me to take the trigger shot and start having s*x pronto (but we'd already started when fertile mucus appeared.)  Then on Sunday, I'll start taking progesterone to "support the pregnancy."  While that was sure a nice thing for an infertile to hear, it didn't quite compute since conception is a nebulous concept to me.

So, the obvious question at this point in the story is Where do you want your husband to be when you take the trigger shot?  If you said two and a half hours away from his sweetie, you'd technically be wrong but that's where he was.  Send blessings to my husband he drove home early this morning (got up at four am) to join me in renewing the marriage covenant.

As to the foregoing, I think we have our bases covered, I hope and pray.  I'm very grateful this has been a fairly easy and pleasant process.  Even if we don't get pregnant, I hope I remember that the process was at least a good experience and that's something to treasure no matter what.  I'm not sure why I was so afraid to move forward with treatment for so long, I guess I just wanted to be able to get pregnant without needing augmentation.  And last year was just a bad year that I needed time to clear my head a bit.  And we had a bunch of trips that precluded a pregnant me participating.

Before I forget, here are the stats:  left ovary had one follicle just 12mm in size.  The left had four, the largest two at 23 and 17mm.  So, all the burden's on the lefty.  The doc wants me to take a pregnancy test on CD 26.  I don't need the torture of someone saying, "I'm very sorry, you're not pregnant" so I think I'll just let it play out.  I have some orders for a P+7 blood draw from Dr. St.igen.  I should probably give her a heads up before she gets a test result out of the blue from a woman she hasn't heard from in a year.

I don't know what's going to happen.  Just have to pray for the best.  But, like I said this has been a positive experience so I'm very grateful for that.  And that can stand on its own.  Since I started charting for this cycle and hadn't in a great many months, I posted a little snippet below.  You might notice a little "2009" at the top which is when my charts were transferred to Excel, a very long time ago.


  1. I hope this comment gets through! I am not sure if you saw my blog post, but you are one of the bloggers that I cannot get my comments to post. I have been trying for months! Hopefully it will work this time as I am using my phone. Wowzers. That blog most materialized quickly! I am so interested to hear about the trigger shot stuff. I don't know much about that, but it seems to come up with people I talk to kind of frequently. Wow, I just reread that sentence. It makes me sound like a bundle of laughs! Haha.

    Anyway, back to you (it IS your blog, after all) I am very hopeful for you. Do keep us posted. And again, I am sorry if it seemed like I bailed- I have been reading all along, just couldn't comment.

  2. I certainly understand that motivation for stalling and/or avoiding treatment (along with about nine million other motivations...sigh). This can be such a miserable process, and people on our team rarely get to go through one round of unpleasantness and be finished, so if it's awful and you have to do it a lot, it can drag down your whole life. A painless, non-horrible treatment process is a major blessing, even without the hoped-for outcome. With, of course, would be ideal! Hoping for good news for you.

  3. I do think it is worth sharing and I'm grateful that you have.

    It's such a fine line in the dark that we walk - between accepting childlessness and all of the treatments and hopes that go with them. I don't know about you, but for me, it sometimes changes by the day (and often with my permission) which side of the line I am on. I'm still just at the start of all the treatment stuff, but it is all so overwhelming, and scary, and yet it is what is providing hope. So, I am grateful to hear that others walk this path too and I'm grateful.

    (Oh, and about the other posts, it's your blog, write what you want :))