Friday, December 21, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Drumroll, Please...
Ok, so I've recently found an online buddy group for women who have my same IVF cycle. I have to admit that I have somewhat neglected my blog in favor of posting there -- not that anyone there reads my blog, or vice-versa, but I hate having to post the same thing twice...
In any case, here's the update: I eventually reached the point where I was able to do the abdominal shots myself! I am so proud of myself -- and it made the shots easier as well (it gave me more control of the push). My retrieval went without incident this past Friday, although the post-retrieval pain was a lot more than I had anticipated. I ended up with 9 eggs from 10 follicles. Of those 9 eggs, 6 were mature enough to be fertilized.
On Saturday, we received a call from the embryologist, who told us that of the original 6, only 4 had actually fertilized. He basically said if we wanted to transfer all 4, we had to let him know right then and there, and the transfer needed to take place on Sunday instead of Monday! This was kind of a curve ball for my husband and I -- we had only anticipated transferring 2, the transfer was going to take place on Monday, and now we were basically being told there was this transfer 4 option, but we had to decide now and we had relatively no information upon which to make our decision! The embryologist spoke very broken English and was having a lot of trouble explaining things to us. I hung up the phone in tears.
After I calmed down a bit (and I realize that some of this was attributable to the hormones), we left a message for our RE. The nurse called us back and explained things to us a little more clearly. Then the RE and the embryologist called us back via conference call and answered the rest of our questions, which is great, but is probably what they should have done in the first place. What we ultimately decided to do was wait until Sunday -- if all four made it to Sunday, we would plan on having the transfer on Monday as planned. If we still had all four, we would transfer two and freeze two. If we had three or less, we would simply transfer what we had left. If all four did not make it until Sunday, we would plan on going in on Sunday afternoon to transfer what was left. It didn't make sense to us to just freeze one, so we might as well go for it...
Well, we were on pins and needles on Sunday morning when the phone rang. We were told by the RE that we had 3 good embryos -- a 4-cell, a 3-cell and a 2-cell. The fourth embryo had failed to divide. He basically said to have a light breakfast and head on over for the transfer of the remaining three that afternoon for a 2-day transfer! The rest of the morning was spent making phone calls, doing some quick pajama shopping, and making last minute preparations for a week of bedrest.
When we arrived at the clinic, we were surprised and pleased to learn that all of the embryos had divided again -- we now had an 8-cell and 2 4-cells! We also learned that they were all grade 1 and 2 (our RE grades them from 1-4 based on quality, with 1 being the best, 4 being the worst). We were originally disappointed that we only had 3 embryos left, but I guess it's quality, not quantity!
The transfer also went without incident, and right now I'm actually looking forward to a week of bedrest. It's so hard to remain cautiously optimistic (emphasis on "cautiously") when I have so much hope...!
In any case, here's the update: I eventually reached the point where I was able to do the abdominal shots myself! I am so proud of myself -- and it made the shots easier as well (it gave me more control of the push). My retrieval went without incident this past Friday, although the post-retrieval pain was a lot more than I had anticipated. I ended up with 9 eggs from 10 follicles. Of those 9 eggs, 6 were mature enough to be fertilized.
On Saturday, we received a call from the embryologist, who told us that of the original 6, only 4 had actually fertilized. He basically said if we wanted to transfer all 4, we had to let him know right then and there, and the transfer needed to take place on Sunday instead of Monday! This was kind of a curve ball for my husband and I -- we had only anticipated transferring 2, the transfer was going to take place on Monday, and now we were basically being told there was this transfer 4 option, but we had to decide now and we had relatively no information upon which to make our decision! The embryologist spoke very broken English and was having a lot of trouble explaining things to us. I hung up the phone in tears.
After I calmed down a bit (and I realize that some of this was attributable to the hormones), we left a message for our RE. The nurse called us back and explained things to us a little more clearly. Then the RE and the embryologist called us back via conference call and answered the rest of our questions, which is great, but is probably what they should have done in the first place. What we ultimately decided to do was wait until Sunday -- if all four made it to Sunday, we would plan on having the transfer on Monday as planned. If we still had all four, we would transfer two and freeze two. If we had three or less, we would simply transfer what we had left. If all four did not make it until Sunday, we would plan on going in on Sunday afternoon to transfer what was left. It didn't make sense to us to just freeze one, so we might as well go for it...
Well, we were on pins and needles on Sunday morning when the phone rang. We were told by the RE that we had 3 good embryos -- a 4-cell, a 3-cell and a 2-cell. The fourth embryo had failed to divide. He basically said to have a light breakfast and head on over for the transfer of the remaining three that afternoon for a 2-day transfer! The rest of the morning was spent making phone calls, doing some quick pajama shopping, and making last minute preparations for a week of bedrest.
When we arrived at the clinic, we were surprised and pleased to learn that all of the embryos had divided again -- we now had an 8-cell and 2 4-cells! We also learned that they were all grade 1 and 2 (our RE grades them from 1-4 based on quality, with 1 being the best, 4 being the worst). We were originally disappointed that we only had 3 embryos left, but I guess it's quality, not quantity!
The transfer also went without incident, and right now I'm actually looking forward to a week of bedrest. It's so hard to remain cautiously optimistic (emphasis on "cautiously") when I have so much hope...!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Shots All Around!
"I'm on my way home from work."
"OK. I just have a few last minute things to take care of at the office. I will meet you at home at 5:30. We can change out of our work clothes and then do shots."
Anyone walking by my office during this exchange would probably have thought my husband and I were getting ready for a Friday night on the town. A couple of shots of Patron, then we're off to dance the night away! Sadly, not that dancing the night away has ever been our lifestyle, but the shots we're speaking of are more of the take-a-deep-breath-and-close-your-eyes-and-hope-you-don't-feel-the-pinch-kind.
I haven't posted for a while, so please forgive me if this turns into a long and rambling summary of the past couple of weeks. We started the Lupron shots as planned right before the Thanksgiving holiday. Not pleasant, but tolerable, especially once I numb the area with ice. (Seriously folks, if I have the time, I'm preparing to author a composition entitled "Ode to Ice -- I Could Not Have Done It Without You.") I began the letrozole the night before my family arrived for the holiday. That's when the crazy vivid dreams and searing headaches started. Now that I'm off the letrozole, I no longer have the dreams, but the headaches remain...
We started the stims (Menopur and Gonal-F) last Wednesday. I was determined to give myself the shots, since they are in the stomach and I knew I would have to adjust the "push," depending on how the medicine burned. My husband got the Gonal-F pen all ready, and I just stood there for about 20 minutes, poised and ready to go, but I just couldn't do it! I had tears of frustration in my eyes when I finally handed the pen over to him.
Then came the Menopur, which my husband had to mix. I'm sure it didn't help to have me looking over his shoulder, criticizing his technique every step of the way. The sterile solution was leaking out all over the mixing needle, and I suggested that he start over from the beginning. Not wanting to waste any (very expensive) medication, he followed my advice (mistake no. 1), and replaced the mixing needle with the injection needle.
Upon noticing the HUGE air bubble in the needle, I refused to let my husband inject me. After trying multiple times to remove the air bubble by injecting and redrawing the medication from the vial, he shooed me away, saying something about not being able to concentrate with me leaning over his shoulder, leaving me to my own devices (which consisted of Googling keywords "injection air bubble embolism death").
After watching several Internet videos demonstrating the injections, my husband realized he had accidentally used 1.5 cc of sterile solution instead of 1 cc. In a panic, he telephoned the on-call nurse (which we probably should have done from the getgo). She talked him through it, and we were able to complete the evening's injections. Unfortunately, as a result of repeatedly redrawing the medication to remove the air bubble, he ended up injecting me with a REALLY dull needle. I guess you live and you learn.
We finally have the injections down, but I'm still a wimp when it comes to needles. The only thing more unpleasant than the shots are the side effects from the medication. I've been walking around for the past four days in what feels like an unrelenting hangover. Between the headaches and the fatigue, I just want to take a really long nap.
I had my monitoring appointment yesterday, after my first 3 days of stims. I have seven measurable follicles, consisting of one 12, four 10s, a 9 and an 8. My RE didn't care about the side effects I was experiencing from the medication, only whether or not I was experiencing abdominal discomfort. Since I'm not having any, they increased my dosage of Gonal-F (one of the more expensive medications). I'm still on track for a December 7 egg retrieval.
Finally, I checked my horoscope this morning. I'm hoping by putting a link to her site here, Susan Miller won't be too upset that I quoted from her forecast. It was just too fantastical to not share:
It's like she wrote this specifically for me! I normally don't believe in all this, but I need all the help I can get. How remarkable would it be if this came true???
"OK. I just have a few last minute things to take care of at the office. I will meet you at home at 5:30. We can change out of our work clothes and then do shots."
Anyone walking by my office during this exchange would probably have thought my husband and I were getting ready for a Friday night on the town. A couple of shots of Patron, then we're off to dance the night away! Sadly, not that dancing the night away has ever been our lifestyle, but the shots we're speaking of are more of the take-a-deep-breath-and-close-your-eyes-and-hope-you-don't-feel-the-pinch-kind.
I haven't posted for a while, so please forgive me if this turns into a long and rambling summary of the past couple of weeks. We started the Lupron shots as planned right before the Thanksgiving holiday. Not pleasant, but tolerable, especially once I numb the area with ice. (Seriously folks, if I have the time, I'm preparing to author a composition entitled "Ode to Ice -- I Could Not Have Done It Without You.") I began the letrozole the night before my family arrived for the holiday. That's when the crazy vivid dreams and searing headaches started. Now that I'm off the letrozole, I no longer have the dreams, but the headaches remain...
We started the stims (Menopur and Gonal-F) last Wednesday. I was determined to give myself the shots, since they are in the stomach and I knew I would have to adjust the "push," depending on how the medicine burned. My husband got the Gonal-F pen all ready, and I just stood there for about 20 minutes, poised and ready to go, but I just couldn't do it! I had tears of frustration in my eyes when I finally handed the pen over to him.
Then came the Menopur, which my husband had to mix. I'm sure it didn't help to have me looking over his shoulder, criticizing his technique every step of the way. The sterile solution was leaking out all over the mixing needle, and I suggested that he start over from the beginning. Not wanting to waste any (very expensive) medication, he followed my advice (mistake no. 1), and replaced the mixing needle with the injection needle.
Upon noticing the HUGE air bubble in the needle, I refused to let my husband inject me. After trying multiple times to remove the air bubble by injecting and redrawing the medication from the vial, he shooed me away, saying something about not being able to concentrate with me leaning over his shoulder, leaving me to my own devices (which consisted of Googling keywords "injection air bubble embolism death").
After watching several Internet videos demonstrating the injections, my husband realized he had accidentally used 1.5 cc of sterile solution instead of 1 cc. In a panic, he telephoned the on-call nurse (which we probably should have done from the getgo). She talked him through it, and we were able to complete the evening's injections. Unfortunately, as a result of repeatedly redrawing the medication to remove the air bubble, he ended up injecting me with a REALLY dull needle. I guess you live and you learn.
We finally have the injections down, but I'm still a wimp when it comes to needles. The only thing more unpleasant than the shots are the side effects from the medication. I've been walking around for the past four days in what feels like an unrelenting hangover. Between the headaches and the fatigue, I just want to take a really long nap.
I had my monitoring appointment yesterday, after my first 3 days of stims. I have seven measurable follicles, consisting of one 12, four 10s, a 9 and an 8. My RE didn't care about the side effects I was experiencing from the medication, only whether or not I was experiencing abdominal discomfort. Since I'm not having any, they increased my dosage of Gonal-F (one of the more expensive medications). I'm still on track for a December 7 egg retrieval.
Finally, I checked my horoscope this morning. I'm hoping by putting a link to her site here, Susan Miller won't be too upset that I quoted from her forecast. It was just too fantastical to not share:
It's like she wrote this specifically for me! I normally don't believe in all this, but I need all the help I can get. How remarkable would it be if this came true???
Sunday, November 18, 2007
My Husband, The Poet
My husband is usually a man of very few words. He's an accountant, not a poet or a writer, but he wrote this the other day and it really touched me. It came from the heart and has given me so much strength that I am posting it here with his permission:
Our Unborn Child
Our unborn child is searching for us
We know how that must seem
It’s nothing too mysterious
We see her in our dreams
She’s got curly blonde hair
Just as beautiful as can be
And it’s through this poem I want to share
How much she means to me
Almost a year and a half has gone by
And she still hasn’t found her way
Sometimes I find I just want to cry
But somehow I know it’s going to be okay
We’ve found the path that leads to her
It’s lit bright so now we can see
For strength we’re relying on each other
And that’s exactly how it should be
I anticipate that moment in life
When two now become three
Me, my baby and my beautiful wife
Adding our own branch to the family tree
Our Unborn Child
Our unborn child is searching for us
We know how that must seem
It’s nothing too mysterious
We see her in our dreams
She’s got curly blonde hair
Just as beautiful as can be
And it’s through this poem I want to share
How much she means to me
Almost a year and a half has gone by
And she still hasn’t found her way
Sometimes I find I just want to cry
But somehow I know it’s going to be okay
We’ve found the path that leads to her
It’s lit bright so now we can see
For strength we’re relying on each other
And that’s exactly how it should be
I anticipate that moment in life
When two now become three
Me, my baby and my beautiful wife
Adding our own branch to the family tree
Friday, November 16, 2007
Teacher's Pet
I had my Lupron scan yesterday, followed by our injectibles class. I was feeling a little uncomfortable, as our "usual" nurse wasn't there. Our friendly, wry, Wanda Sykes-esque nurse was replaced by, well, let's just call her Bubbles the Clown. She was a very large woman, all smiles, way too chipper, and very close to annoying when she told us that she was terrible with names, but could "recognize an ovary anywhere." That's quite a feat to me, considering everything on the screen looks like gray matter. In any case, in that gray matter she managed to find 10 follicles on the right, 15 on the left. When we asked if that was "normal," she spoke to us like were were preschool students:
"How many babies do you want?"
"One."
"That's right." (She is now holding up one finger for those playing the home game.) "One." "Then one follicle is all you need."
Somehow I don't think we're ever going to get an answer to our question regarding what is or is not "normal."
Following our lesson in numbers by Nurse Bubbles, we were ushered into another room for the injectables class. Another woman in the class told us she was a physician, so that gave me some added level of comfort knowing that there was an M.D. in our midst who had chosen our RE over everyone else available in the Southern California area. The nurse was a little miffed when she learned that no one had notified us that we were supposed to bring our medications to the class -- she wanted us to be able to lay everything out on the table so she could point out what everything was, what it was for, and to generally answer any questions.
That was when my husband, bless his heart, pulled out his spreadsheet. Now, my husband is an accountant, and I usually tease him about the fact that he has a spreadsheet for everything. This one contained all the medications, when each one starts, the method for administering (including body part), size of the needle, extra notes, etc. Everyone "ooohed" and "aaahed." The nurses even asked if they could make copies. My heart secretly swelled with pride.
My husband had his opportunity to apply what he learned in class yesterday when we began the Lupron this morning. I have to admit, I did lose some sleep over this last night. As it turned out, it really wasn't so bad, other then some significant burning I felt after the fact. I came to realize only later (by way of a "DUH" email from my husband at work) that he was so nervous he accidentally swabbed the injection site with rubbing alcohol AFTER giving the injection! Hopefully, this can only get easier...
"How many babies do you want?"
"One."
"That's right." (She is now holding up one finger for those playing the home game.) "One." "Then one follicle is all you need."
Somehow I don't think we're ever going to get an answer to our question regarding what is or is not "normal."
Following our lesson in numbers by Nurse Bubbles, we were ushered into another room for the injectables class. Another woman in the class told us she was a physician, so that gave me some added level of comfort knowing that there was an M.D. in our midst who had chosen our RE over everyone else available in the Southern California area. The nurse was a little miffed when she learned that no one had notified us that we were supposed to bring our medications to the class -- she wanted us to be able to lay everything out on the table so she could point out what everything was, what it was for, and to generally answer any questions.
That was when my husband, bless his heart, pulled out his spreadsheet. Now, my husband is an accountant, and I usually tease him about the fact that he has a spreadsheet for everything. This one contained all the medications, when each one starts, the method for administering (including body part), size of the needle, extra notes, etc. Everyone "ooohed" and "aaahed." The nurses even asked if they could make copies. My heart secretly swelled with pride.
My husband had his opportunity to apply what he learned in class yesterday when we began the Lupron this morning. I have to admit, I did lose some sleep over this last night. As it turned out, it really wasn't so bad, other then some significant burning I felt after the fact. I came to realize only later (by way of a "DUH" email from my husband at work) that he was so nervous he accidentally swabbed the injection site with rubbing alcohol AFTER giving the injection! Hopefully, this can only get easier...
Friday, November 9, 2007
Down the Rabbit Hole
Monday was our mock transfer, along with some additional blood work (and I think some other procedures thrown in for good measure). I had a bit of a meltdown on Sunday night – in reading through all the consent forms, I formulated a huge list of questions I had, and realized that I didn’t feel educated enough about what my RE was doing to go through with the procedure (unless and until our questions were answered). My husband saw my panic and offered to call the RE’s office the next morning. At first they told him that the doctor was “very busy” and likely would not have time to answer our questions. I think the anger and frustration must have been radiating out of the email I sent my husband from work in response, because he emailed me just a few minutes later to tell me that there was no problem, we were going to be seeing the doctor just before the procedure anyway, and he would be happy to answer any questions we had.
We were in a bit of a rush to get to the RE’s office, forcing us to eat in the car. This was a mistake, because they gave me the half Xanax and Motrin on a full stomach. Seriously – I found the procedure more than a little uncomfortable and I don’t think the medication kicked in until we were in the car on the way home. Other than that, things went pretty well. They wouldn’t let my husband in the surgical suite, which was kind of a bummer, but he was a little busy in the other room with a magazine and a cup ;) It was also kind of neat to see everything (some of it in color!) on the video monitor. So THAT’s what my cervix looks like…
The doctor met with us before the procedure, and was very patient with our list of questions. With the spotting, he told us that we wouldn’t know if it was something to be concerned about until he performed the examination. Also, we were confused because the literature said we’d be doing ICSI, and I didn’t understand why (my husband does not have any issues with his swimmers, and this is our first IVF attempt). Apparently, my RE uses ICSI in about 95% of his IVF patients – I guess it’s more mainstream now. It gives us a better chance of more viable embryos, which is fine by me (and believe me, I’ve also read the risks of ICSI, so please don’t think I’m going into this blindly). The rest of our questions mainly surrounded discrepancies between the literature he gave us and the information in the consent forms. Turns out, the literature was a little outdated and he said they were in the process of revising everything. He was very impressed that my husband and I had gone through it all so thoroughly (although I don’t know what he expected – I am an attorney and my husband is a CPA – how could we NOT read every single word?)!
I felt so much better after our questions were answered. My husband had kind of an emotional epiphany after all was said and done, and wanted me to know how brave he thought I was and how much it meant to him that I was willing to go through so much for the sake of our family. It was a strange thing to hear. First of all, I never thought of myself as brave – I feel like such a wimp when it comes to pain. His response was, “Bravery is not about not feeling afraid – to me, being brave is being afraid of something, but going through with it despite your fear.” Also, all this time I’ve known my husband wanted children, but I didn’t realize exactly how important it was to him. I always thought that I wanted a baby a little more, and he was simply indulging me and being supportive by deciding to do IVF. I’ve felt a little guilty for that and for the fact that the anatomical problems lie with me. I feel so much better about everything knowing how he feels and I have to say it is bringing us closer.
UPDATE: We just got back my husband’s sperm analysis results from Monday. Turns out, he does have a slightly abnormal morphology plus low stress/penetration (we never tested for this before). So, I guess it’s a good thing we’re doing ICSI!
We were in a bit of a rush to get to the RE’s office, forcing us to eat in the car. This was a mistake, because they gave me the half Xanax and Motrin on a full stomach. Seriously – I found the procedure more than a little uncomfortable and I don’t think the medication kicked in until we were in the car on the way home. Other than that, things went pretty well. They wouldn’t let my husband in the surgical suite, which was kind of a bummer, but he was a little busy in the other room with a magazine and a cup ;) It was also kind of neat to see everything (some of it in color!) on the video monitor. So THAT’s what my cervix looks like…
The doctor met with us before the procedure, and was very patient with our list of questions. With the spotting, he told us that we wouldn’t know if it was something to be concerned about until he performed the examination. Also, we were confused because the literature said we’d be doing ICSI, and I didn’t understand why (my husband does not have any issues with his swimmers, and this is our first IVF attempt). Apparently, my RE uses ICSI in about 95% of his IVF patients – I guess it’s more mainstream now. It gives us a better chance of more viable embryos, which is fine by me (and believe me, I’ve also read the risks of ICSI, so please don’t think I’m going into this blindly). The rest of our questions mainly surrounded discrepancies between the literature he gave us and the information in the consent forms. Turns out, the literature was a little outdated and he said they were in the process of revising everything. He was very impressed that my husband and I had gone through it all so thoroughly (although I don’t know what he expected – I am an attorney and my husband is a CPA – how could we NOT read every single word?)!
I felt so much better after our questions were answered. My husband had kind of an emotional epiphany after all was said and done, and wanted me to know how brave he thought I was and how much it meant to him that I was willing to go through so much for the sake of our family. It was a strange thing to hear. First of all, I never thought of myself as brave – I feel like such a wimp when it comes to pain. His response was, “Bravery is not about not feeling afraid – to me, being brave is being afraid of something, but going through with it despite your fear.” Also, all this time I’ve known my husband wanted children, but I didn’t realize exactly how important it was to him. I always thought that I wanted a baby a little more, and he was simply indulging me and being supportive by deciding to do IVF. I’ve felt a little guilty for that and for the fact that the anatomical problems lie with me. I feel so much better about everything knowing how he feels and I have to say it is bringing us closer.
UPDATE: We just got back my husband’s sperm analysis results from Monday. Turns out, he does have a slightly abnormal morphology plus low stress/penetration (we never tested for this before). So, I guess it’s a good thing we’re doing ICSI!
Friday, November 2, 2007
Big Box O' Medicine
The big Box O' Medicine arrived on Tuesday. I came home from work and caught my husband on the Internet watching educational videos on how to administer injections. I asked him were all the medication was, and he showed me the new "medicine drawer" in the kitchen (where, incidentally, we used to keep the cat medicine -- he said he took out all of the cat stuff, but I'm going to become really worried if he puts on a finger condom and tries to rub my ear...). He basically said the drawer was off limits and he was going to be in charge of the medicine -- that's fine by me, but after begging for a few minutes he finally let me see what was inside the drawer to take the mystery out. Holy crap! I couldn't believe the vials and the disposal containers and sharps and pens, etc. We even had to make room for some of the stuff in our refrigerator. It's now becoming VERY real. Significantly, there was a very large bottle of Darvocet sent to us along with everything else. I know Darvocet is a pain medicine, but it's making me worried -- seriously, what's the Darvocet for, and why do I need such a big bottle???
The Darvocet also sent me spiraling with several other questions relating to pain issues. I had contemplated the injections being painful, but what about the actual procedures? I hadn't really thought about it. I have the mock transfer on Monday, with the actual retrieval and transfer in December. Can anyone tell me what kind of pain I can expect?
On another note, we've decided that we were going to be more open in telling people about what we're doing. I've told a select group of my close friends at work, and people have been mostly supportive -- I've had some strange reactions, and it's been a little confusing (for lack of a better word) to some people, but it's a relief to not have to make up stories about why I'm going to have to leave all the time for doctor's appointments and procedures. My immediate family has known about this since the beginning, and my husband is finally going to tell his. I am keeping my fingers crossed that they will be supportive as well.
The Darvocet also sent me spiraling with several other questions relating to pain issues. I had contemplated the injections being painful, but what about the actual procedures? I hadn't really thought about it. I have the mock transfer on Monday, with the actual retrieval and transfer in December. Can anyone tell me what kind of pain I can expect?
On another note, we've decided that we were going to be more open in telling people about what we're doing. I've told a select group of my close friends at work, and people have been mostly supportive -- I've had some strange reactions, and it's been a little confusing (for lack of a better word) to some people, but it's a relief to not have to make up stories about why I'm going to have to leave all the time for doctor's appointments and procedures. My immediate family has known about this since the beginning, and my husband is finally going to tell his. I am keeping my fingers crossed that they will be supportive as well.
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