The Last Straw

I went out last week with a girlfriend. She and I took advantage of the short time that I can have a drink (now and then; you know, two weeks on, two weeks off) and we went to a pub for a pint after work. It was wonderful to sit and chat with her and forget the cruel "infertile" thoughts that creep into my mind and permeate my day. Every day. Every. D*mn. Day. *sighs*

Anyway, she and I were chatting about a particular co-worker of hers (whom I know, given that she and I worked together in the past) who'd given it a shot at hooking up with her for some "fun." She and I had a giggle about it all, because quite frankly, this man is not someone I would see her with. Or me. Or almost ANYONE for that matter. He's rather, um... well... Let's just say that my mother taught me that, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." *clamps her lips tightly shut*

And in reference to this man, my friend said, "God, can you imagine? It'd be like boinking an amoeba." She laughed. And while I laughed with her, I thought to myself, "Yanno, THAT is it. That is the feeling I have when I'm lying on the examining table, spread eagle for all the world to see, while the doctor does an IUI. It's like boinking an amoeba. Like... you feel that it isn't right. You feel nothing. It doesn't 'do it' for you, yanno? It isn't the way you imagine getting pregnant. It isn't 'normal' and it certainly doesn't merit pillow talk or a cigarette afterwards. H*ll, not even a passionate kiss. Sheesh!" (Before you ask, no, I don't smoke. Just evoking popular expression.)

Boinking an amoeba. The very moment the doctor put the speculum in on Monday for my appointment this month, I laughed, thinking of the conversation I'd had with my girlfriend. Oh well. Whatever gives you those endorphins I guess! LOL

Anyway, to keep you all updated, I managed with the Clomid well enough. There was some discomfort on Saturday evening (CD11) and I suspected I might have ovulated. On Monday (CD13) I had an appointment at 7 a.m. Those follies were STILL THERE! YAY! I had two good-sized, mature follicles at 1.9 and 2.2. The endometrium measured 8.9. The doc was very pleased with that. My temp had dropped a little the night before. And EWCM was present, cervix high and open; all good signs. So he did an IUI and gave me an HCG shot to make those follicles release. He gave me a prescription for 200mg of progesterone and sent me on my way. Off I went to work and got on with my day.

Then I went back for the follow-up on Tuesday at 7 a.m. He checked with the dildo cam, and lo and behold, both follies were gone! Lots of free fluid. And the CM was drier, but the cervix still open. I told him I'd had twinges at about 10 a.m. on Monday. He figured that we would try again, so he prepped and did another IUI with the last straw of little guys that we had left. He remarked, "This is the last straw that you have back there." And we both made a comment to the effect that this one had better work, or we move on to something else next time, likely donor sperm. We have an appointment with him on the 10th to discuss our next route. So this really is the "last straw." *crosses her fingers tightly*

Well, he did the second IUI on Tuesday at 7:28 a.m. and I lay there for about 10 minutes before getting up to dress. By the time I had dressed, caught the elevator downstairs and walked to the parking lot, I was cramping. Eeesh. Badly too. Rarely do I have cramps or discomfort after an IUI, but holy moly was I ever feeling it! I was gasping for air and doubled over by the time I sat behind the steering wheel. I tried to relax, and called hubby. Yes, I would be okay to drive, but rather than go right to work, I decided to go home to lie down for an hour or so. I did just that, and rubbed my abdomen, trying to unknot the tension. Cramping with a capital "C." Not fun. Ugh.

I met hubby at 9:30, picking him up so he could drive me to my office, rather than have me walk the 10-15 mins from the far lot into my building. I spent the day at my computer, editing documentation, but lemme tell ya, right after work, I headed home to the comfort of the bed again. I managed to rest a bit, catching some sleep actually.

And I am paying super close attention to my body. There are some months when he does a procedure and I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. So I know pretty quickly that it didn't work. And there are some months when I just feel like (as another blogger put it) that there is "construction" going on down there. Gurglings, rumblings, twinges, pangs. Whatever. I am holding my breath that the "construction" I sense right now means luck for us. Time will tell. Please God, let us be blessed this time.

Blood work; it really IS work. Trust me on this.

Now that I'm back in the land of the living after being sick for a week (and sleeping between 14 and 16 hours per day; sheesh!) I'm looking ahead to the next few days.

And circled in red on my calendar for next Tuesday the 17th is... Bloodwork. CD23 and a whole host of tests have been ordered by my fertility specialist. Let's see, I might be able to decipher his "doctor shorthand" on my requisition form. He wants me tested for:
-glucose (R)
-Hemoglobin
-W.B.C. count (white blood cell, I assume)
-FSH (follicle stimulating hormone)
-LH (luteinizing hormone)
-T4/T3 (thyroid stuff; many docs test me for hypothyroidism, but they've all come back negative so far)
-Prolactin
-Estradiol
-Free Testosterone
-Progesterone
-DH EAS (another thyroid thing)
-BHCG (beta HCG or pregnancy test)
-Folate
-Insulin

And two more that I simply can't discern right now. Looks like "Federtin" and "Ult R12". But those don't show up in my research.

Anyway, regardless, that's a H*lluva lot of bloodwork. And here's the kicker. I'm petrified of needles. Not just afraid, but "knock-down, drag-em-out, faint-on-the-floor, cry-like-a-baby, leave-scars-on-my-hubby's-hand, need-to-lie-down and take-relaxation-meds-beforehand" PETRIFIED. Got that?? Can I BE any more clear? I don't think so.

Seriously, my family doctor prescribes Lorazepam for me to relax prior to bloodwork. I have fainted in the past. It has taken more than an hour and multiple tries to FIND a vein that doesn't collapse or withdraw, and more often than not I have to lie down because otherwise I'll be in a puddle on the floor.

So as you can probably guess, I am NOT looking forward to this, although I realize the necessity of the bloodwork itself. How to get through it? I'm not sure. When I had my laparoscopy in April, I had a topical freezing cream applied, took some of that Lorazepam, relaxing music on my MP3 player, warm blankets wrapped around my arms to try to bring out the veins, a special doc called in to do the IV insertion, and even a sympathetic nurse who could relate because her husband is much like me. And I still cried. It frightens the living daylights out of me. It truly does.

Blood? No problem. Gore? Cool! Sawing through bone? Neat!! But a needle piercing skin? I'm a total wreck. Stupid right? Yeah, I know. I know. It stems from an incident I had as a child. I was about eight years old and for some reason (I can't remember why) the nurse at the children's hospital at home needed to take a blood sample from me. So I sit down, having done this before, and she preps my arm. God, even the alcohol swab makes me cry now. *shudders* Anyway, she puts in the needle, and loses the vein. What does she do? She withdraws the needle PARTWAYS and changes the angle, pushing in again. Not once, not even twice, but this B*tch does this repeatedly, time and time again, fishing for the crawling vein. Well, I'm sitting there watching this and eventually I just fainted. Dead on the floor, slid off the chair, fainted. Good God. I'll never forget it. And to this day I am so afraid.

So what to do about next week? Even the receptionist at the fertility doc's said, "Wow, looks like a few vials there," when she gave me the requisition form. Nice. Oh joy. I'll be lucky to get through this. I kid you not.

A request for my readers then. Tips? Tricks? Help? What would you advise? Anything that will help me get through the awful experience of a blood draw will be most welcome. Trust me. I'm all ears.

No Signs; Not even a Signpost

Okay, I confess... I have no idea what day in my cycle it is right now. The total insanity of the long Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada has tossed thoughts of fertility to the furthest recesses of my little brain. I have spent the weekend cooking, cleaning, shopping, visiting and entertaining. And on top of all that, I've got a cold. (Thanks to my hubby. He loves to share you see.)

So I'm trying not to take meds to help ease the cold symptoms. Sucking on Ricola throat lozenges just isn't cutting it. And you can be d*mn sure that those don't help my stuffy nose. Don't you just hate it when you become sick in your 2ww? Seriously, this sucks. Royally.

Hubby is home today sick, as am I. Well, he's been sick for more than two weeks; I suspect it's an infection now, rather than just a cold. Usually he can shake them much faster than that. He's taking his butt to a doctor today though to get it sorted out. Good thing too. I was ready to take him to the doctor myself. The incessant coughing is grating on my last nerve. Argh!

I think though, what is worse than all of that, is that so far, I feel nothing. Usually, when I have a cycle that "works" I feel twinges, symptoms, little signs and indications that I MIGHT be... well, the "P" word. (Yeah, I'm superstitous when it comes to even saying it. Like I'm some sort of fraud or something.) And this cycle, I feel nothing. No sore, heavy breasts; no heaviness in my abdomen; no sensitive gums when I brush my teeth; no darkened veins that look like bruises; no nausea (I remember one morning when I barely made it to the office after walking by the cafeteria at our headquarters complex!) nada. Usually, if the IUI works, about 4 days after the procedures, I start feeling something. Considering that this is Tuesday, and I had IUIs on Thursday and Friday of last week, I would know by now. Or, I think I would know. Maybe it's me just being silly and superstitious again.

Or maybe it's just this cold. I'll take my sick butt back to bed for awhile and concentrate on getting better.

Urine our World Now...

Welcome to CD12, and another look at my girly bits today with the dildo cam revealed that both follicles had released. YAY! I knew with those twinges yesterday that I'd ovulated. I must remember to record that on my chart. According to the doc, there is a lot of free fluid behind the uterus... a good sign. So knowing that I ovulated, he did another IUI today.

It took a good bit of poking and prodding today with that cam. My cervix is so very deep, there is no way I can ever possibly reach it, and doctors have often commented that it is VERY far back. I ask if that would ever pose a problem to delivering a child, or getting pregnant, but they all deny that it would be. So I assume it's just because I'm built that way. C'est la vie.

Anyway, both yesterday and today I did manage to empty my bladder. And that's a helluva feat for me! Hubby often comments I have a bladder like a freakin' camel. I usually go for a full workday without using the washroom. It's rare that I need to go do that. I NEVER get up in the middle of the night for it either. I just have an abnormal bladder capacity I guess.

Pee good to me!
So usually when I go for these visits to the doc, he'll comment about my bladder not being empty. I try and I try, but it never seems to fully empty. And last year, when I had the ovarian cyst, I was getting a lot of urinary tract infections. So many ultrasounds. So many urine samples. Eeesh. "Empty your bladder for this test," "Keep your bladder full for this test," "We need a sample," "When was the last time you emptied your bladder?" etc.

I went one time for an ultrasound (external and internal) and I had the external one first. Thus I needed a full bladder. Well, I drank and I drank and I drank some more. I was so full! I needed to go to the bathroom SO badly. But I vowed to hold it until after the external was done. The tech takes one look and her eyes go wide. She says, "Wow, your bladder is super full. Very clear picture!" Then she needed to do the internal. She said, "Go empty your bladder. Twice." Huh? "Yes, twice. Empty it once, then stand up and walk a few minutes. Then empty it again." I did just that. I lay down again, and she inserts the dildo cam. "Yep, still not empty. Go try again." *sigh*

Anyway, yes... yesterday and today. I didn't eat or drink before my appointments. So I made sure to empty fully. And he was very pleased that he could get a clear picture internally with an empty bladder. A real feat, like I said.

*wink wink, nudge nudge*
And the title of this post? Much like the title of this entire blog, it's a nod and a wink to EverQuest and EverQuest 2; online games that I play. Of all the quests I've undertaken in game and in life, this babymaking one is the hardest quest of all. But the reward at the end? That just rocks. :)

CD11; time for an IUI

Today's appointment with the doc (bright and early at 7 a.m.! Sheesh, do these folks ever sleep?!) brought about some results.

The dildo cam -- oh, my girly bits are very 'intimate' with that thing now; more than they are with my hubby lately -- revealed that both follicles on the left side have sufficiently matured. One measured at 1.89 and the other at 1.99. Mature follicles measure between 1.8 and 2.6 my doctor told me. The endometrium is nice and thick this month, and that's good to hear because often it's not as thick as he would like it to be.

Figuring that those littl'uns are ripe for the picking, he did an IUI and gave me an HCG shot. Usually, if hubby is there, it's hubby who gets to push the plunger and he can then say that he 'did it.' *giggles* Unfortunately though, hubby works a 7-3 shift and thus unless absolutely necessary, he can't make the appointments. That's a shame. I always want my husband there for these sorts of things, and I miss him when he's not.

Anyway, the doctor wants me back again tomorrow at the same time (ugh!) to confirm ovulation and to do another IUI. He also indicated that it's time to try the Clomid. He'll give me that prescription tomorrow, for CD3-7 next month, if I need it.

He also gave me a requisition for CD23 bloodwork, and a requisition for CD3 bloodwork, if I get that far. Please GOD let me not see a CD3 this time. I am crossing my fingers. I don't want to see a CD3 for quite awhile.

While I was lying there, waiting a few minutes after the IUI before I got up and got dressed to go on with my day, go to work, etc., I hear peals of laughter from the room next door. She was one of the lucky ones. She got a BFP on a beta. And it turns out, she was one of many last week who did. I want to be that lucky. Is that selfish of me? I don't care. Well, I do, but I don't. Please let me be that lucky this time. Oh please.

So today and tomorrow, I'm doing my best to think positively. To get the good vibes flowing. To do the positive self-talk and imagery. To think good things. To that end, tonight hubby and I are going to the hockey season home opener (Ottawa Senators vs Toronto Maple Leafs; Go SENS Go!) and that will be a lovely distraction. No stress, no stress, no stress *chants the mantra*

Now if I can just get my Thanksgiving dinner all organized. I'm doing a dinner at our house for a few people on Monday and on Sunday we're going to hubby's family's fête. There will be 47 people for the meal on Sunday, and I'm doing dessert. *pulls out recipe cards frantically* Happy Thanksgiving weekend to all the Canucks who read. May it be full of love, laughter, friends and family.

**update**
Hee hee; as I'm typing this entry, I feel the twinges in my abdomen that tell me that I'm ovulating. To heck with the Sens; this game is much more important to me! *cheers the littl'uns on* Go little guys, go!!!!!

The Christening of the Blog!

Blog... I christen thee!
Ah the irony; the whole purpose of this particular blog is to give me a place to vent about our infertility. And thus the lack of any baby to christen; funny that I have to make do with a blog ain't it?

The obligatory introductory post: this is the story of love. The love that I have for my husband. The love that he has for me. And the love that we so badly want to give to a child of our own. My story is a long one and rather convoluted. I'll tell it in steps I guess. From the beginning, seeing as that is where I am with this blog.

A Time in the Past
My husband was married before. And with his ex-wife, had two beautiful children. A girl (now almost 12 years old) and a boy (who will be 11 in February 2007). When he and his ex-wife had those lovely babies, they decided that two were enough and so he was gracious enough to offer to have a vasectomy.

In 1998, the deed was done, and so it came to pass that he was prevented from having more children. Well, a little later that year and early in 1999, hubby and his ex-wife called it quits, and when his little boy was only two, he moved out.

When We Met
I met him in December of 2000. He told me early on in our relationship about his vasectomy, so I can't plead ignorance. I knew what I was in for. "Oh, " I thought to myself, "no big deal, that can be reversed."

Yes, it's true, a vasectomy CAN be reversed. But unfortunately for us, when he chose to have that reversal in October 2003, it didn't work. The vas deferens on his right side proved to be far too short to reconnect properly. And on the left side, while it was reconnected, the surgeon felt that there may be scarring there to block the vas. So we waited, the obligatory three months before a semenanalysis could be done.

The results of that test in January 2004 revealed no sperm. None. Not even one. I got that wonderful news in a curt phone message left by the surgeon on our answering machine one cold January day. Lovely. I broke down in tears in our living room. In my mind, this stupid phone message was telling me that I was never going to be a mom. Ever. NO chance in h*ll that I could be. Nice. I was a mess. A great bedside manner is NOT what this man has... believe you me.

Now What?
During the reversal though, it was found that he still PRODUCED sperm. Bonus! At least his body wasn't rejecting them and the production gears were still working. That would come in handy.

Off to the fertility specialist we go. Testing was next on the plate. Let's see, we had the following:
Cycle day 3 bloodwork (me) -- normal
Cycle day 21 bloodwork (me) -- normal; that means that I ovulate normally, whoo hoo!
HSG (me) -- normal thank God! It was neat to see though!
Semenanalysis (him, obviously) -- still zero sperm

So our biggest problem was getting his little guys into me. Thus, the introduction of the IUI, or intrauterine insemination. They aspirate his sperm (Guys... this will be FAR too difficult for most of you to even think about, TMI incoming!!) with a needle. Then they wash it, separating the good guys from the not-so-good guys, and then they separate it into straws. Usually we get enough in one aspiration to last us for eight or nine months.

We decided to wait until after our wedding in August 2004 to commence with the IUIs. So with the fall season approaching, we gave it a first shot. In September 2004, we went for the "procedure" (as I've come to refer to it to those people who are not in the IF world).

Luck?
As it so happens, we highly suspect that first time had worked. I didn't do any any EPTs or anything, but I had symptoms like nobody's business. And then... AF arrived. And with it, absolute, severe cramping, and oh so much more that indicated to me that it was a miscarriage. Early, but a miscarriage nonetheless. Well, my spirits were still up. Because that meant I could GET pregnant. So there was hope.

Month after month we went. Month after month we tried. And each month... with the dildo cam, we saw a bloomin' cyst on my right side. The same cyst, each month. I had no idea it was there in the beginning, but we kept tracking, and watching, and waiting, and we tried birth control pills to get rid of it, we tried all sorts of things. Nothing worked. And the pain became worse.

By the summer of 2005, the pain was excruciating. I remember being in the grocery store with my hubby and I had to double over, so bad was the pain. It was evident on my face too. Hubby was amazed. I often commented that something that was growing in a man that wasn't supposed to would have LONG been removed before then.

I saw two surgeons. One of whom absolutely refused to do surgery (laparoscopy) to remove the cyst. The second agreed. It was causing us to waste precious time and sperm!!

The Wait for Surgery
In October the surgeon agreed to do the surgery. It was scheduled for February 2006. By this time, I was on daily painkillers to manage the pain. Not fun. We took a break from TTC between October and February. Good enough; time to relax and put it out of our minds. Two days before the surgery in February... I get a call at work. "Doctor HandsomeBrit has to cancel because there has been a death in the family. He's been called away. We'll call you with another time." Dear God. I broke down. No one else could do it on such short notice. There was nothing I could do but handle the pain for another while.

The lap was rescheduled for April 2006. And while I am quite able to handle a lot of medical stuff, needles frighten the bejeesus outta me. (Long story; I'll write about that another time.) Anyway, I went in, the lap was done, I came out and hubby drove me home to recover. I was never so glad to climb in bed.

Another Wait... for IUIs
I was told by the surgeon that I had to wait for a "normal" cycle before we could begin trying with IUIs again. So I waited. And like clockwork, in May, my cycle was right on! Twenty-six days, as per usual. I called our fertility doc again. And back we went.

And wouldn't you know it but THAT cycle worked too? But the same thing as the September 2004 cycle; luteal phase defect. (More on health issues later. Jeez, I have a lot to talk about "later" don't I? If you get bored... shoo. Go away. This stuff is awfully tiresome to those who aren't in the know.) So I didn't have the progesterone to lengthen my cycle, and thus... implantation failed and another early miscarriage. I was crushed. Somewhat upbeat because of the fact that I knew it had worked again (although I didn't bother with POAS or anything), but back to the drawing board.

And we continue. This is September 2006. That makes two full years, with time off for surgeries, travel (when I'm out of the province and away from the doc's office) or when my doc is out of the country. So we've had about 17 or 18 IUIs and two "sorta" worked. Do we have hope? Yes. Are we tired? H*ll yes. Do I still want this? Oh dear God yes. And I'm seriously considering the next step.

Hold on folks. This is a h*lluva ride. I need as many friends as I can get on this one. And support? I won't turn it down.

Love to you all in blogland!