I Heart New York

I've had 2 weeks to digest the idea that we are never going to conceive kids and it's taking its sweet time to digest. This has been hard. Depression is surrounding me like the cloud of dust and flies around Pig-pen. Tears come often and usually for no apparent reason. Brandon's doing his best to keep me upbeat but it's an uphill battle for him and I worry that he's holding in his own emotion for my sake. But we deal with things very differently. Every day is different, some days good others not so good, but thankfully the good days seem to becoming more numerous. There appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel. But that could be because I made an appointment with my doctor to talk about the depression. I'm secretly hoping for some medicinal remedy. I'm not picky.

One of the things that I have done to help pass the time has been to constantly research vacations. We are in DESPERATE need of time away. My sister very generously offered to have us come down and stay at the resort hotel her husband works at in Hoover, Alabama for a weekend. And that was what we were planning on doing.....until......I got into one of my moods.

I affectionately call it my "Fuck it" mood. This mood happens about 1-2 times a year and usually involves a major purchase or vacation...unfortunately it's usually when we don't technically have the money. The last one I remember (honey, feel free to correct if I'm wrong) was over a year ago when I decided one night that I wanted a new comforter for our bed. Within hours that turned into us deciding that we needed to completely change the bedroom. And that night, went out and bought a $6000 Tempurpedic bed. Now, mind you, we ALREADY had a Tempurpedic bed but a baseline model that my fat ass was getting too heavy for. Yeah, you heard me right, instead of becoming healthier and losing weight I said "Fuck it" and dropped enough money to buy a used car to upgrade our bed.

I know what you're thinking (well, at least one of the things you're thinking). You're wondering how I can blast Brandon for the iPad purchase when I have my moments of monetary reckless abandon. But my contention is that MY moments benefit HIM as well. Mr. Sanspree DEFINITELY reeps the benefits of that incredible bed (get your mind out of the gutters you dirty birds, my mom reads this blog!). I mean that this bed is SO comfortable, it is absolutely worth all 600,000 pennies we paid. His iPad does not benefit me at all...it only gives me more contempt for all things computerized with and apple on it.

So back to the need for a vaca...it didn't look like the generous Hoover trip was going to work out in the time frame we were hoping for. So I got back in Google mood and began my search with the echo of "Pluck it" in my ears (like I said, my mom reads this blog so I feel the need to start minimizing the profanity). I was looking at everything from Holiday World to Vegas (of which I've been to neither). Then my dearest hubby said he wanted to plan the trip and he'd let me know what he came up with. Later that night, that man reminded me why I married him (no, we're not back to the bed thing). I'm talking about his thoughtfulness. He reminded me of my life long dream of a trip to New York City to see a Broadway show. I had never contemplated this idea because it seemed more for me than him. Like most straight guys, he's not really a fan of musicals so I never even considered dragging him into my dream and his nightmare. But he offered it up to me....and then utter the words "because you deserve it." AWWWW. Heart melting. Loving him more. He totally got lucky that night (mom stop reading...yep, I mean the bed this time).

Because I'm me....I changed my mind about the trip a thousand times. I spent hours online pricing the trip over and over and over. Then I realized that it's WAY too easy to book a vacation online. One minute you're just looking at prices and with one click, BAM, YOU'RE DONE. Not that I regret it (well maybe a little remorse over the cost...oh who am I kidding, A LOT). It just seemed too easy. There should be an online conscience that pops up when booking. But even if there was one, here's how it probably would have gone:
"You sure?" Positive
"No, seriously, are you really sure?" I think so
"You realize that you don't really have the money to spend?" i know
"Step away from the computer and run like the wind!!" Fuck It....click confirm

I guess the electronic conscience wouldn't have worked anyway. So we're going to NYC baby!! It's only a weekend trip but we're both so excited! Times Square here we come....and we'll be sure to steer clear of unattended coolers and car bombs while there.

I dropped $18k and all I got was this stupid Tshirt

I'm starting to recover from the initial shock of the news. I came home from work because it was too hard to hide the emotion and it comes out instantly when I see people. So I've sequestered myself to the empty house to deal. I really hadn't thought about the possibility that the first test would be negative. I've gotten pregnant so many times in the past that I thought that if we did all the steps right, it would at least work to get me that first positive test. It was anything thereafter that I was not so positive about. But things seldom work out the way I plan them...yes, even for a control freak like me. God's got a plan and apparently I missed the planning meeting.

Some may wonder why we even chose to try IVF. I mean, it's not like we really could afford it. But when I woke up from my surgery back in December (the one where they removed my tubes due to a ruptured ectopic), and I found out that I still had my ovaries, at first I was disappointed that my ovaries were still there. In some deep, dark part of me, I had hoped that my decision to stop trying would be made for me by the surgeon. But when that didn't occur, I took that as a sign that IVF was the next step we were supposed to take. It was now our only option for conceiving. After MANY discussions and tears, we decided that we would regret not giving it at least a try. But, man, I'm sad it didn't work. You might think I'd be angry and wonder why this is happening, but after years of trying, you stop asking why and being angry...at least I have.

I don't want to, but I know I need to find the good in what we've gone through. All I can hope for is that someone might read this blog one day and my experience helps them in some way....even if just for a laugh or the amazement that they are not alone in the bi-polar world of trying to conceive.

So what's next?

Brandon and I have discussed this scenario at length. Obviously our days of IVF are over for good. Not only can we not afford it, but I'm pretty sure that Brandon would divorce me before letting me go back on Lupron again. That's like knowingly walking into the Devil's house and saying "You want a piece of me?". Not a smart move.

Many have asked me about adoption and it's a topic that I usually choose to avoid if possible....until now. Let me start by saying that couples that adopt are some of the most amazing people I've ever met. I admire them beyond belief. Brandon and I have obviously discussed this option many times....you don't face fertility issues without the topic coming up. And each time we talked, we came to the same conclusion....we just don't know. I'm not going to get into all the reasons that are stopping us from moving forward with that option. I know that there's always someone out there with a rebuttal; and, trust me, we've thought of them too. So the answer to the question of adoption is currently, "It just has not yet presented itself as the right choice." Will that change in the future? Maybe. But will it be anytime soon? No.

We're both exhausted...physically, mentally and emotionally. When one of us gets the strength to begin another potentially long, costly process, then maybe we'll have kids. But right now we need each other. We need to learn to live in a world that is not consumed with having kids. And more importantly, for me....I need to find out what's next for ME. Brandon has his passions, hobbies, interests and they are MANY. I, on the other hand, am floundering and need to find my place and what will fulfill ME. Anyone know a good Life Coach? I guess I need to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

I also desperately need a vacation!! Know of any free trips to the Bahamas where they also pay your salary while you're off? Nice dream, huh?

This may be my last post. I'm not sure what else is left to say. But I appreciate all the support of my family, friends, co-workers, my agent, the studio executives, the crew, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ...[played off by music]. Yeah, it started to sound like an acceptance speech.

P.S. - the cats are not sad at all. We thought it was a possibility that they might have to go if we were successful (for several reasons). They are now doing the happy dance on the kitchen table over their new lease on life.

The wait is over and so is the journey.

The pregnancy test this morning was negative. This means our IVF journey has come to an end. There's probably much more to be said about this, but I don't have it in me at the moment.

I'll write more later....after my sinuses unclog.

Curiosity killed the Cathy

It's been several days since my last post and there's a reason for that. I've been doing everything possible to busy myself and keep my mind off this waiting game. Wednesday is D Day. It will either be the beginning of the next chapter or the end of an epic saga. I've spent the last 4 1/2 years preparing myself for this moment. And I'm prepared for whatever outcome God decides to give us...but it will still be sad if it's the end....and I'll be scared shitless if God decides to bust out his sense of humor and give us triplets.

Another reason for not posting lately is because this is the point in the process where I start to withdrawal. Remember, I've been told 7 times that my pregnancy test was positive. So there's not the same excitement in that phone call anymore. I've also been told 7 times that it's not looking good and will end. Over the years, we made the decision to not tell anyone when I would get a positive test because it's easier to not have to go back and tell everyone that it's ending. Every time was incredibly hard...but if people around me knew, then it made it even harder to watch them be upset as well. It's hard to drag people onto this emotional roller coaster and feels a little like leading lambs to slaughter.

With that said, I did decide to take a different approach this time around in hopes that my being open about the process might enlighten people and hopefully help someone else going through the same thing. But I do feel myself shutting down just a bit with the information flow. Whenever anyone asks me "How are you?" I feel like they want to know if I'm experiencing any pregnancy symptoms. But I don't want to give anyone any potentially false hopes so all I usually reply is "I'm fine." But believe me when I tell you that I am VERY aware of any twinge, cramp, nausea, etc that I'm feeling (or imagining).

I'm also fighting every urge to pee on a stick. Well, not just any stick but there is quite a variety out there. There's plus/minus signs, one/two pink lines, and even ones that say the words pregnant or not pregnant...kind of a no brainer. But we were heavily warned NOT to take a home pregnancy test. This is because I have injected the same hormone that the test checks for so it's very possible to get a false positive or negative. So I resisted the urge to buy one yesterday....especially since the store was out of them. Seriously, how does a store run out of pregnancy tests? Is it really that hot of an item? Oh well...

Wednesday's the day we get to find out if this process worked in getting me knocked up. But for me, if it's positive, it will be the test on Friday that will tell me more. The hormone level should at least double in 2 days. So the first number means very little (only that dropping $18k and splitting my personality worked). The second number speaks volumes. I'm dying to find out if I'll get a chance to even test for a second number.

More on Wednesday...

Profanity makes talking fun

Bed rest is done and it’s back to work. Maybe work will offer a bit of a distraction from this long wait until next Wednesday’s pregnancy test. It’s highly doubtful but I willing to grasp onto any prospect at this point. However, today didn’t go quite as I’d planned…imagine that.

I have one blood test left before next week’s pregnancy test. They need to test my progesterone level to make sure that I’m making my uterus the most inviting place possible for little squirts. We figured it was unnecessary for me to drive to Nashville just for a blood test, especially since I work at damn medical facility with a fully functioning lab. So I decided to have it done at work. After giving the lab the orders, I was waiting in the booth for the phlebotomist and, being nosy, inspected the orders. I noticed that it didn’t say that the results were needed STAT…which is typical for these tests so I can know quickly whether to adjust the dosage or not. I pointed this error out to the girl and (long story only slightly shortened) it turns out that our lab does not process progesterone tests in-house and sends them out….hence not coming back STAT. I melted down. WHAT? At this point, my natural sailor-like verbal skills kicked in and I’m pretty sure that I dropped several “shits”, a couple of “damns” and used the term “shitload”. I wasn’t angry at the lab….I was the one at fault for not checking on this and I was pissed at myself. I marched back to my office with the realization that I was going to have to hightail it to Nashville and PRAY that I get there in time for them to get the blood work processed today.

I immediately call Brandon to tell him what happened and got his voice mail. So I texted him and drove out of town like a bat out of hell. With every passing minute I get more pissed that Brandon has yet to call me back…so I texted again. I realize that me driving to Nashville was not necessarily a 911 call (yet) but what if it had been an emergency…like me stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire (wait, that comes later)? I should be able to reach my husband for goodness sake! I’d reached crisis intervention level at this point. So I called him, yet again….and he finally answered. Poor guy had to endure my wrath and he took it like a trooper…thankfully not a state trooper or he would have had me incarcerated immediately.

Thankfully I calmed down after unleashing on him and returned back to DEFCON 5 and the All Clear was called. But then my mind drifted back to the scene in the lab at work. What did I say to them? Was I rude? Did I say anything out of line? OMG, did I swear? Please tell me I didn’t drop an F bomb.

Side Note: I work in Human Resources and we have to be the most politically correct, straight-laced people in the building. It’s completely a façade for me at work because when I’m off the clock, I don’t really like people and spew more profanities than a rap song. But on the clock, I’m Ms. Congeniality.

Now I’m terrified that I’ve completely pissed off the entire lab staff. So I make a call to the supervisor to apologize for anything that I might have said….which thankfully was not that bad according to her. Whew, termination crisis averted.

I made it to Nashville without a hitch. Got blood work done in plenty of time (which turned out to be an appropriate level) and headed back to BG singing along to the radio. It was an unexpected drive but thankfully a beautiful day. I was possibly the calmest I’ve been in weeks on the drive back. Then, about ½ mile away from work, I got a flat tire…

I know what you’re thinking…this is where I must have decided to end it all. But surprisingly I handled it all in stride. Brandon came to my rescue (on the first call…quick learner) and we went to lunch after dropping off my car to have the tire replaced. The day ended much better than it started.

This hormonal rollercoaster is an amazing ride. Consistency gets chucked right out the window. Hard to believe that I’m not even officially knocked up yet. Can you imagine another 9 months of this? Pray for Brandon.

Oompa Loompa doompadee doo

It's day two of the mandatory best rest post embryo transfer and I'm feeling like a slug. It seems silly to complain about some making you lie around all day and I'm trying my best not to complain. But when you feel perfectly fine, laying here seems like overkill. But, hey, I'm down for the cause.

However, as I lay here in my wonderful tempurpedic bed that we spent an insane amount of money on last year (and I'm really appreciating that we did right now), I can't get a particular image out of my head. I'm beginning to feel like one of Charlie's bedridden grandparents in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Any minute now I'm expecting Brandon to burst through the door and dance around the bed singing, "I've got a golden ticket, I've got a golden ticket...". I've got my camera handy, just in case.


Once again, I'm acutely aware of every twinge, cramp and gas bubble in my abdomen. I can't help but wonder what the 3 little squirts are doing in there. Hopefully one has decided to take up residence. I'm doing all I can by enduring the nightly shots that are supposed to be making the space more plush and inviting...shag carpet anyone?

And then there were 3

This post is coming to you from my recliner....laid all the way back. So that means we had good news today and the transfer went as planned. We arrived for our appointment as instructed...with my bladder at capacity. This is not a very comfortable position to be in but I'm willing to do anything that will make this a success. I also had in hand my one Valium that was to be taken prior to the transfer. We were led back to the surgery center and did all the necessary prep for the procedure. I got to don a gown (not formal) and Brandon got to try out the newest look in medical wear. Since he was going to be in the room, he had to dress up like everyone else in scrubs, hat, mask and booties....it was quite a sight.


Then they told us to sit tight and things would get underway soon. That's when the wait began. They came in and checked on us several times, each time telling us that it would be a little while longer. When you embark on this journey, you feel like the only ones in the world that are going through it. But when they come to tell you that there is an egg retrieval and a transfer ahead of you, it kind of feels like they just told you that you're 7th in line for deicing and will take off soon. It really depersonalizes the process and you now just feel like cattle being herded through the center. But we made it through the wait without my bladder bursting, which required more control than I thought possible.

Finally the doctor came in and went over the procedure. Then the embryologist came in with the information that we've been waiting all weekend for. She informed us that we had 3 embryos that survived the weekend and the genetic testing. Two were looking great and were considered Grade A. The 3rd one was just a little slower to develop but was also looking pretty good and a Grade B. Her next question threw us both for a loop. She asked how many we wanted to transfer. I didn't think we really had an option and just assumed that they would do 2 based on my age. But she indicated that given my track record with pregnancies, she thought we might want to be more aggressive and put all 3 in. Obviously our risk is triplets. But the decision was up to us. If we opted to only do 2, then they would freeze the third for a later try.

It took us a few minutes to process this decision and after a short discussion, we decided to go for it with all three since the likelihood of Brandon putting up with me through this process again was next to none. Surely we won't have triplets. Seriously, you don't think we'll really have triplets do you? Needless to say....we're now a little freaked out.

After that decision was made we were off to do the transfer. It was an easy procedure with A LOT of protocol (which I really appreciate because I really don't want anyone else's kid in me). Brandon got to watch the whole procedure (on the ultrasound monitor....not from other angle) and they showed me the ultrasound picture when they were done. It showed a small little blip on the screen that was the 3 embryos moving in. I only hope that I made them feel welcome and that one (or 2) decides to stay awhile. It was an overwhelming moment that brought the tears flowing.

Now I'm banished to a reclined position for today and tomorrow. I wish it were raining, that might make it easier.


Here are pictures of our little "buns". The 2 that look like Circus Peanuts are our little Grade A Stars. The one that looks like a kindergartners drawing for the refrigerator is our Grade B slow pitcher. As hard as it may be, you can't think less of him. Bless his heart. Also, and gender reference I make is purely for writing purposes. We had the option of knowing the gender of these three but opted to be surprised at the ultrasound later on. (how's that for positive thinking?)

My 1st pregnancy test will be on April 21st.

More then...