At least I nabbed one of the four metered spaces right in front of the hospital this morning. But the lab experience was as Kafkaesque as the last time. I had to fill out all kinds of paperwork that for some reason hadn't been necessary on Monday, and then there was some big argument about whether or not the tests could be ordered "stat".
Apparently, "stat" means there is some kind of emergency involved, and Toad Lady decided that a second beta doesn't constitute anything dire enough to be called an emergency. The blood was drawn at 9:10 am and as of 6:00 this evening (when my nurse called to say she was on her way home) it hadn't even been sent to the main facility. This is a main branch of Quest, right next to a big hospital. It seems crazy that they can't just run some bloodwork by the end of the day!
Toad Lady was slightly more efficient today, but she did call my name and then stand right in the middle of the doorway while having a conversation with the other person in the waiting room about how wearing ten-year-old shoes is perfectly fine as long as they were resoled as needed and the stitching was very high quality. The other person then took off her ugly perforated pink sandal so they could inspect the stitching together. It was decided that the shoe, being German-made, was a good candidate for the ten-year-plan. Yay! Congratulations on your ugly, worn-out shoe, lady!
The only consolation in all of this is that the FRER this morning was significantly darker than Monday's. That's not as scientific as actual doubling numbers, but I'll take what I can get.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Lull
It's been an odd day. I am so conditioned to keep any kind of hope thoroughly squashed down that I haven't even let myself think about tomorrow, much less anything beyond that.
The lab where I had my draw yesterday is in a medical building next to a hospital. Absolutely no parking except for the seven-dollars-per-twenty-minutes lot next to the ER. And of course the woman at the front desk of the lab was like a Coen brothers version of a receptionist: thick stubby older woman with a giant flattened bouffant and thick mad-scientist glasses. After I gave her my lab slip she went to the back of the office and stood with her back to me shredding documents for a good five minutes. I kept checking the clock, thinking of that parking total.
When she finally shuffled back to the desk and entered my information on the computer I figured we were almost done - there was nobody else waiting, so I assumed I was next. She was clattering away on her keyboard for a while, and nobody had come out of the back for a long time. It seemed weird, because most lab tests just need a quick vial of blood or a cheek swab or maybe some pee in a cup. It had been a half hour and nobody had come or gone. The receptionist had turned the back of her lopsided bouffant to me and was busy going through some mail. I began to wonder if the phlebotomist was out on a break.
Except, then the bouffant lady called my name and trudged around the side of the office to open the door for me, and suddenly it was she herself pulling on gloves and a mask and getting out the tubing and the vial. Her? The crazy toad-in-a-housecoat character? The receptionist lady was going to draw my blood? What?
I had to pay $21 for parking because I was there for almost an hour. And in the scope of an IVF cycle that's nothing, really. But the whole thing was so pointless and bizarre. Tomorrow I'm parking at the Rite-Aid and walking six blocks. And hoping that Toad Lady has the day off.
The lab where I had my draw yesterday is in a medical building next to a hospital. Absolutely no parking except for the seven-dollars-per-twenty-minutes lot next to the ER. And of course the woman at the front desk of the lab was like a Coen brothers version of a receptionist: thick stubby older woman with a giant flattened bouffant and thick mad-scientist glasses. After I gave her my lab slip she went to the back of the office and stood with her back to me shredding documents for a good five minutes. I kept checking the clock, thinking of that parking total.
When she finally shuffled back to the desk and entered my information on the computer I figured we were almost done - there was nobody else waiting, so I assumed I was next. She was clattering away on her keyboard for a while, and nobody had come out of the back for a long time. It seemed weird, because most lab tests just need a quick vial of blood or a cheek swab or maybe some pee in a cup. It had been a half hour and nobody had come or gone. The receptionist had turned the back of her lopsided bouffant to me and was busy going through some mail. I began to wonder if the phlebotomist was out on a break.
Except, then the bouffant lady called my name and trudged around the side of the office to open the door for me, and suddenly it was she herself pulling on gloves and a mask and getting out the tubing and the vial. Her? The crazy toad-in-a-housecoat character? The receptionist lady was going to draw my blood? What?
I had to pay $21 for parking because I was there for almost an hour. And in the scope of an IVF cycle that's nothing, really. But the whole thing was so pointless and bizarre. Tomorrow I'm parking at the Rite-Aid and walking six blocks. And hoping that Toad Lady has the day off.
Monday, November 10, 2008
65
The clinic coordinator called me this afternoon to find out where I had gone for the draw. They had ordered it stat, which is supposed to mean they get the results in 3-4 hours, but they hadn't heard anything. Somehow, she tracked down the paperwork and called me back this evening to let me know that first number.
65 at 9dp5dt is not bad - not as bad as I feared. It just goes to show that you can't play lab director in your own bathroom with any degree of certainty. I was prepared for a low number along with cautionary advice about falling betas, etc. I'm still giving myself all kinds of cautionary advice, because I've been in this exact same position before - normal beta, good doubling, nausea, etc. - and then the first US showed a slow heartbeat and it was all just a matter of time after that.
I know better than to get any kind of hope up at all (but thanks for the capital H, Shelby!) at this point. I'm not even nervous for Wednesday. I'm kind of in shock that any part of this has appeared to have worked at all. Isn't it funny how it's hard to just be happy for something that you really want if you think you might not actually get it?
65 at 9dp5dt is not bad - not as bad as I feared. It just goes to show that you can't play lab director in your own bathroom with any degree of certainty. I was prepared for a low number along with cautionary advice about falling betas, etc. I'm still giving myself all kinds of cautionary advice, because I've been in this exact same position before - normal beta, good doubling, nausea, etc. - and then the first US showed a slow heartbeat and it was all just a matter of time after that.
I know better than to get any kind of hope up at all (but thanks for the capital H, Shelby!) at this point. I'm not even nervous for Wednesday. I'm kind of in shock that any part of this has appeared to have worked at all. Isn't it funny how it's hard to just be happy for something that you really want if you think you might not actually get it?
Maybe
I know enough to know that it doesn't look good. Accounting for doubling time, a positive beta without a faint line yesterday would be very very low - not a good sign. But I can see some kind of a faint faint line today, the palest wisp of pinkishness. So, there's a maybe in there somewhere.
The maybes are where that faint faint line gets blurrier. Maybe it's a chemical. Maybe it's just a later implantation - the morula instead of one of the blasts? Maybe there's a chromosomal problem. Maybe I just have overly diluted morning pee? See - I can come up with a reason to support almost any conclusion.
Lab test in exactly 58 minutes.
The maybes are where that faint faint line gets blurrier. Maybe it's a chemical. Maybe it's just a later implantation - the morula instead of one of the blasts? Maybe there's a chromosomal problem. Maybe I just have overly diluted morning pee? See - I can come up with a reason to support almost any conclusion.
Lab test in exactly 58 minutes.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Top Ten Reasons and Excuses
1. Technically, the test was expired. Although only by two months. But maybe those tests are really sensitive to being old? But probably not.
2. 7dp5dt is really early. But not unthinkably early. But early.
3. I have had negative tests with actual pregnancies before.
4. Yeah, but those pregnancies didn't turn out so well...
5. It's too early.
6. It's better not to get any hopes up. All pregnancy symptoms are just the side effects of the PIO. Hope is that thing with 1 1/2 needles poking you in the hip every night.
7. Don't test tomorrow - it's just a waste of money. The lab work has to be done anyway.
8. Maybe tomorrow there will be a faint faint line? It would be so nice to have some kind of idea before going in for the lab work. Although even if it is negative I'll still hope that the blood test is positive, so maybe it doesn't matter...
9. It is what it is - testing doesn't make any difference.
10. I shouldn't have tested.
2. 7dp5dt is really early. But not unthinkably early. But early.
3. I have had negative tests with actual pregnancies before.
4. Yeah, but those pregnancies didn't turn out so well...
5. It's too early.
6. It's better not to get any hopes up. All pregnancy symptoms are just the side effects of the PIO. Hope is that thing with 1 1/2 needles poking you in the hip every night.
7. Don't test tomorrow - it's just a waste of money. The lab work has to be done anyway.
8. Maybe tomorrow there will be a faint faint line? It would be so nice to have some kind of idea before going in for the lab work. Although even if it is negative I'll still hope that the blood test is positive, so maybe it doesn't matter...
9. It is what it is - testing doesn't make any difference.
10. I shouldn't have tested.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Spit Shine
I have one real-life infertile friend. She has been trying to get knocked up for about three years, to no avail. They don't have insurance for infertility (surprise) and have been trying to save up for treatment. They really live on the edge of every paycheck, so it's been a long process for them. She couldn't even figure out her cycle with the OPKs since she was so irregular and she couldn't afford to keep buying the kits. She did get one of those saliva-monitoring tests, though, and she watched her ferning pattern for weeks. When it finally kicked in, they just spent two days in the sack and - voila! Pregnant. After looking at her spit.
Of course, it's early days. You or I would know better than to announce a pregnancy before a satisfactory ultrasound or at least a good rising beta. She is six weeks pregnant and thrilled to the eyeballs - and was very gracious about telling me. And I am ecstatic for her- she will be an amazing mother. She is truly a remarkably compassionate person. But, damn - spit? Really?
The stories about eating whole milk products, timing sex with the phases of the moon, tying red string to the end of the bed - the fact that these ever work at all has got to be purely coincidence, and yet they persist. And I know the ferning is more scientific than that - it does give some kind of useful information - but it's one more story about how all you have to do is ___________________ and all your problems are solved.
The real kicker is that I would so love for us to be pregnant at the same time. We live so far away from each other, but it's still like time has never passed whenever we manage to get together. But try as I might, I don't feel pregnant. I feel hopped up on progesterone, but I know enough not to confuse sore boobs with an actual pregnancy. At 5dp5dt, I feel bloated, tired and frustrated, but I don't feel at all pregnant. I know it's too early to make a definitive statement, and of course I would love to be proven wrong, but I've been pregnant enough times to know that I usually have some kind of early inkling.
I have never been much of a POASer. But I may have to break down and do it just to prepare myself for the lab results on Monday. I think a negative is easier to take if you aren't holding out hope. That said, my clinic doesn't even call with the results until after the second beta - the theory being that until the numbers rise it doesn't mean much anyway - but I think I can have the lab call me directly with the results.
Luckily, I have an incredibly busy weekend booked, maybe I won't have time to think about not feeling pregnant...
Of course, it's early days. You or I would know better than to announce a pregnancy before a satisfactory ultrasound or at least a good rising beta. She is six weeks pregnant and thrilled to the eyeballs - and was very gracious about telling me. And I am ecstatic for her- she will be an amazing mother. She is truly a remarkably compassionate person. But, damn - spit? Really?
The stories about eating whole milk products, timing sex with the phases of the moon, tying red string to the end of the bed - the fact that these ever work at all has got to be purely coincidence, and yet they persist. And I know the ferning is more scientific than that - it does give some kind of useful information - but it's one more story about how all you have to do is ___________________ and all your problems are solved.
The real kicker is that I would so love for us to be pregnant at the same time. We live so far away from each other, but it's still like time has never passed whenever we manage to get together. But try as I might, I don't feel pregnant. I feel hopped up on progesterone, but I know enough not to confuse sore boobs with an actual pregnancy. At 5dp5dt, I feel bloated, tired and frustrated, but I don't feel at all pregnant. I know it's too early to make a definitive statement, and of course I would love to be proven wrong, but I've been pregnant enough times to know that I usually have some kind of early inkling.
I have never been much of a POASer. But I may have to break down and do it just to prepare myself for the lab results on Monday. I think a negative is easier to take if you aren't holding out hope. That said, my clinic doesn't even call with the results until after the second beta - the theory being that until the numbers rise it doesn't mean much anyway - but I think I can have the lab call me directly with the results.
Luckily, I have an incredibly busy weekend booked, maybe I won't have time to think about not feeling pregnant...
Saturday, November 1, 2008
And Then There Were Three
For some reason I only have a photo of two of them. There was a certain amount of hemming and hawing about how many to transfer. It seemed obvious to me - the 7-cell had stopped growing yesterday, so we were left with three. The day-3 10-cells had become compacted blasts, one of them being a quite nice grade 2 and the other a slightly raggedy grade 3. The day-3 8-cell was still a morula (day-4 stage) but looked good enough to be graded a 2. So, the good blast was a shoo-in, but it was impossible to decide which of the others might have a better chance. I really didn't want a single frozen blast left for a FET, so we decided to go for all of them.
This really barely raises my chance of multiples - maybe by 1% - but it does increase the chance of pregnancy by 10%. Seems like a no-brainer, really. We had the requisite discussion about selective reduction, and apparently I gave the reasonable answer and that was that. Now, I know that stranger things have happened, etc. etc., but after everything we have gone through to even get to this point I just have to plan to cross all other bridges when (if) I come to them.
I have my lab request for two betas, 11/10 and 11/12. In the meantime, PIO at least until the first ultrasound (if, of course) and then maybe onto Claudia's secret sub-Q progesterone. Plus, I get to add an estradiol suppository starting tomorrow. Other than that, time will tell. It's going to be a long 2WW, even if it is only eleven days.
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