Blame the Hormones

I've sworn to myself through this whole thing that never, ever would I complain about anything "pregnancy related" if God would ever just grant me the opportunity to experience it. And, I'm sticking to that. I can tell you that if morning sickness is every my reality, I will vomit with a smile. Likewise, I will gladly gain weight, sport a pregnancy nose and swollen ankles and hands...all with a gracious laugh. Promise.

However, I didn't expect the anxiety I'm feeling right now because for the first time ever, it feels like there is so much to lose.

I remember when I was a kid, I absolutely couldn't wait until the day my parents trusted me to stay home alone. I imagined that I would be in charge of my two younger sisters, I would eat whatever I wanted, and watch anything I wanted on TV.

But when it finally happened, after the elation wore off, I felt a strange sense of fear. Creaks in the floor were just a little bit louder, and the dark was just a little bit darker. It was actually a little scary.

And, at the risk of sounding like a whinebox, I'm feeling pretty home alone right now. I am elated that we are pregnant. It's beyond thrilling to say to myself, "I'm 5 weeks pregnant on Saturday."

But there are no affirmations right now - no blood test results or ultrasounds, and I'm scared to death of what is (or isn't) going on in there. Yes, I've actually considered buying a few pregnancy tests just to convince myself that this is actually happening.

Enter yet another 2 week wait. Our first ultrasound is 2 weeks from tomorrow: April 10. The thought of an ultrasound that actually involves a baby instead of a follicle counts and and endometriomas is thrilling.

I know, I need to get a grip. Do you think I can blame the hormones?

Introducing Another IVF "Friend"....

After a great visit with my shrink yesterday afternoon, I walked out into the sunshine actually believing it was okay to feel hopeful about this cycle. She helped me understand that we'll be disappointed (okay, devastated) if this doesn't work, but there's nothing wrong with feeling some hope right now.

Essentially, it's going to suck either way if it's a negative.

After my appointment, I went to have coffee with an old friend I haven't seen in many months. I initiated this time with her because we will be moving in a few months, and I wanted to reconnect with her. She's a bit on the intense side, but I thought it would be a good diversion. She's one half of a couple with no kids, so I knew there would be no baby talk.

Well, I thought I knew.

We talked work for about 30 minutes, from which she launched into a discussion about her recent IVF cycle: "If you ever need a fertility specialist, I know a really good one. We just went through an IVF cycle. By the way, I'm 9 weeks pregnant."

She suggested the specialist in the same tone one would recommend a dentist or a hairstylist.

I was astounded and couldn't help but stammer that we just gone through the same thing. It seemed like the natural thing to do given the circumstances - I mean, I don't typically have coffee with someone for the first time in months only to hear that they just underwent IVF.

Big Mistake.

Her response: "Well, if it doesn't work, I know this great specialist..."

The remainder of the conversation was me listening to her complain about her pregnancy symptoms and how awful being pregnant is - "I'm soooo tired of being sick, and all I want to do is eat. This is just awful."

Needless to say, after a few minutes, I thought of somewhere else I needed to be and abruptly ended this fiasco.

I am realizing that IVF has many faces, and amazingly, simply going through it doesn't mean that you have an ounce of empathy or compassion. I have now encountered two women who have ridden the IVF roller coaster, and I couldn't feel farther apart from either of them in terms of their emotional response to this experience.

Today, I'm moving on from this horrific coffee date. Frankly, a few more months of separation from this friend (if not a permanent arrangement) might definitely be in order.

This Is Crazy....

The Embryo High has evaporated.

I wasn't exactly expecting all this: the IVF Two-Week Wait is a new animal to me. Frankly, I didn't realize how emotionally difficult this was going to be.

In fact, I invested so much time and energy getting to this point that I never thought about what comes after. After all of the drama and Divine Intervention of the last few days, I feel like I've entered a desert of some kind - there's nothing for miles and miles and miles.

I am preoccupied with the fact that with Divine Assistance, we created life, and it was subsequently placed in my uterus. I am overwhelmed with this crazy emotional attachment to it, along with a sickening fear about whether or not it's still there.

I know I need to stay positive, keep hopeful, keep the faith.

I just never in a million years realized how hard this was going to be. I can't even fathom how I'm going to feel the night before that pregnancy test.

The IVF 2 week wait is the CROWN JEWEL of all 2 week waits. It doesn't get any more intense than this, at least not in my humble infertility experience.

Pales. In. Comparison.

Words of wisdom from those of you who have been through this would really be welcomed.

Really welcomed.

Praying. Praying. Praying.

Fertilization Report

The call finally came around 10 this morning.

Of the 15, 11 were mature, and 9 fertilized. They'll call tomorrow with another update.

We are ecstatic and so blessed this morning.

Update tomorrow.

Ovarian Update

We're headed to retrieval.

The Nurse said that things have developed really well over the last 2 days, and that my ovaries seem to be "getting the message".

Final Count: 4 maturing follicles, 2 hopefuls

E2=2125 (promising!)

Trigger: Wednesday night

Appointment with shrink: Thursday

Retrieval: Friday

I am so relieved that we're finally going through with this.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me through phone calls, texts, comments, and e-mails these last few days. Your support has been uplifting and much appreciated. I sincerely believe your prayers made all the difference.

I'll keep you posted.

Torn

If I had one wish today (aside from the obvious cuddly, beautiful infant), it would be that, just once, infertility could be a tiny bit clearer, less murky and generally more cut and dry.

Basically, I'm clamoring to get the hell out of this Funhouse.

Ultrasound results: 6 follicles - 16.5, 13, 12, 11.5, 9.5 and 9.5.

E2=1101

My favorite nurse actually came in on a Sunday just to talk things over with us, which brought tears to my eyes (and, no, it's not just the massive amounts of estrogen flowing through my body).

She said that in no way do any of my test results indicate perimenopause. However, this low follicle count likely means that we are always going to have less to work with in an IVF cycle as it is similar to what we had last cycle on the Lupron (long) protocol. Gulp.

In other words, we're probably never going to skip down the hall after an ultrasound basking in the glow of multitudes of follies. Not going to happen. These are the ovaries I have, and like it or not, this is what they're putting out.

So, it's a matter of rolling the dice - do we want to take the leap of faith with 4 follicles (which might be the best case scenario, given that the 9.5ers probably will not catch up in time)?

We are torn.

On one hand, we know that it takes one egg, one sperm to make an embryo. And, one embryo is all we need.

On the other hand, L. is a medical professional, and we realize that the statitstics aren't good here.

But, let's face it, things probably aren't going to get better in subsequent cycles.

The Plan: In a classic sequence of events I will have to recount later, we began Cetrotide today in an attempt to save the Big Girl (the 16.5er). Continue Menopur and Gonal-F.

Sunday night: Pray.

Monday - Pray. Pray. Pray.

Next ultrasound: Tuesday morning and Pray.

Tuesday afternoon: Deliberation/Decision Time.

Damn, IF really sucks.

Entering the IVF Funhouse

The IVF Funhouse is a place where there are no answers - not until you finally get out, anyway. One stumbles in, wanders from one room to the next hoping for some direction, some "straightening out", only to be pushed to the next room where things are just as warped as they were in the room before.

It never fails, every time I go into these ultrasounds, I still believe somewhere deep down that I'm going to walk out with something definitive...which never happens in the Funhouse. You're perpetually told by Nurse Nightingales and Ultrasound Techs that you'll need to wait for the next phone call, the next bloodwork, the next ultrasound, etc., etc.

Our ultrasound today wasn't as bad as I thought. L., who has read an ultrasound or two in his time, said that my ovaries looked good - there were numerous follicles, just not big enough to measure yet. I feel a little better because per his medical opinion, my ovaries are nowhere near prunes yet (admittedly, I wonder if he would tell me if they were....).

In fact, I have two measurable follicles - both around 10.5 mm, with about 6-8 close in size, right behind them. E2=381. Not a huge number of follicles, but promising nonetheless. And, certainly more promising than the dark room I wandered out of on Monday.

So, the plan: another ultrasound on Sunday because Dr. A. is concerned about those 10.5'ers growing into the magic 13, which is when Cetrotide becomes a part of the med regimine. She doesn't want for me to ovulate early and wants to catch the magic window as soon as it gets here. Gee, I appreciate her attention to detail here.

Of course, in typical Funhouse Fashion, I am a little confused about whether this is good or bad - I mean at least we have two follicles who look like they're taking off, but I'm worried about them taking over and keeping the others from growing - which seems to be my pattern.

Who can tell?

No choice but to sit back and see what Funhouse Fun awaits us in the next room. Stay tuned.

Why?

Why this is all happening is a question I ask myself countless times a day. I know there are many people in my life who believe L. and I are "too preoccupied" with having a baby and that if only we would destress, slow down and relax, a baby would magically appear.

Of course, I know this isn't the case, and I also know damn well that the scientific odds are stacking up against us every day.

Especially today.

Today, I got the go ahead from Dr. A. to start stimming tomorrow morning. When I asked the RN about my antral follicle count, she paused, took a deep breath and barreled forward. I could tell it was a question she didn't want to answer.

She said that I have "3 or 4" follicles on each ovary, a number well below the average for my age. This was also the case last month, something that I didn't want to look at or think about, so I just didn't.

I suppose IVF is sort of like Pandora's Box that way - one learns things that might have been best unsaid, unknown. We are proceeding with this cycle, come what may because Dr. A. doesn't think the numbers are going to get any better, and we're moving forward under much less than ideal circumstances.

I can't say I'm looking forward to this, and I can't say I'm even hopeful. I don't understand how we got here. I had convinced myself that my ovaries were okay, but today I learned that they are "sluggish" and "working really hard to produce a small number of follicles".

Not a good sign.

Menopur every morning; Gonal-F injections every night. First ultrasound: Friday.

Close Encounters of the Jackass Kind

On Friday I started spotting and called the Clinic, fearing that we might miss our window if I actually waited for red blood flow like a normal person. Thus, Dr. A. wanted me to drive up for an ultrasound on Saturday.

Fortunately, my sister came into town on Friday afternoon and since L. was working, we made the drive together on Saturday morning.

I lost track of the speed limit somewhere between discussing her latest male conquest and the injustice of her friend who got a girl pregnant during their 2 month relationship which has subsequently ended in paternity testing and attorneys (EERRGGHH!! Stories like that drive me mad!!!).

When (20-something) Mr. Cop Jackass pulled us over, I began inwardly perseverating over how long he was going to detain us and whether or not I would make the appointment on time.

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Good Morning. Where are you ladies headed this morning?"

Me: "We're going to the Clinic."

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Oh, well, what takes you to the Clinic?"

Me (Seriously consider telling him it was none of his damn business, before my fear of a $200 ticket in addition to the $300+ for today's ultrasound overtook me, making me a bit of a pansy ass.): "Ummmm, infertility treatment."

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Oh, so nothing emergent."

Me (Uhhh, dude, I turn 35 less than 3 months, so it sure feels emergent to me): "Well...actually, it is pretty emergent."

Mr. Cop Jackass (with only the faintest flash of embarrassment): "Well, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time, but you need to slow it down."

YES!!!!

I'm sure Mr. Cop Jackass was inwardly applauding his own virility, thinking IF would never happen to him and his super masculine sperm, but at least he found it in his heart to let me get to my appointment, without adding another $200 to the debt pile.

The ultrasound showed that my lining (12) is too thick for meds, and it needs to shed.

A.F. swooshed in around 11 p.m. last night.

I'll call for next steps today, but I'm sensing re-entry into the IVF Funhouse.

IVF: The Hard Sell?

On Monday I called IVF Clinic #3, an operation that just opened in town. The Clinic is new, an offshoot of a larger clinic about an hour away, poised to take over this City because the clinic here (IVF Clinic #1, whom we fired long ago) truly sucks. (Our Clinic is 2 hours away, and going there was a very calculated decision after much consternation and research).

I called the office manager simply to ask if this new Clinic would be willing to take care of my monitoring. My empty uterus is tiring of hanging out in the OB waiting room alongside at least 20 pregnant bellies, all belonging to starry-eyed fertiles anticipating their magical moment ahead with the vagina cam.

Clinic #3's office manager, Michelle, was more than happy to respond to my request.

Before I knew it, Michelle spawned into a female version of Herb of WKRP fame, trying to sell me a used car. She proceeded to insult my current doctor, insisting that it would be "so easy" to fire Clinic #2 and use her clinic instead for our IVF cycle.

Me: Well, I'm not sure how we feel about switching at this point in the game, and our Clinic has a really renowned reputation.

Michelle/Herb: You know, Leslie, you all have dealt with a lot of setbacks with this. Maybe it was all meant to be - we're up and running and would be much closer to you. Maybe you were meant to go through IVF with us.

Me: Again, I just wanted to talk about ultrasounds and bloodwork. And, my husband is working late tonight. I'm not going to make any decisions without him.

Michelle/Herb: Really, Leslie, I can get you in with one of our docs first thing in the morning. Let me go over our price list with you.

Me: Goodbye.

I hung up the phone feeling violated. What kind of an idiot do you think I am? We spent months researching Clinic #2, and yes, Nurse Nightingale made a critical mistake last cycle. But, how stupid (and vulnerable) do you think I am?

Okay, I may be vulnerable and infertile, but I'm not an idiot.

Needless to say, looks like we're sticking with the OB-GYN.

Seeing the shrink tomorrow, and looking forward to it.

The Gremlins in My Back Seat

Approximately 10 minutes into my session with the Infertility Shrink today, she stopped me and said, "You've already given up on this, haven't you?"

I sat there in disbelief that this woman deciphered my soul in all of a few minutes. (Damn, I'm one complex chick.)

And, I admitted it: "Yes, I've decided that IVF isn't going to work for us."

She responded by saying, "You're not ready for this then."

Then she broke it down for me: I have "befriended" all of the painful disappointments over the last 27 months: Every month of negatives, every failed treatment cycle, every pain at someone else being pregnant (again), every moment of utter hell this experience has catalyzed. These failings are all sitting right behind me. And, I spend a lot of time nurturing these little "friends", feeding them, caring for them and in general, feeling sorry for myself (which I absolutely will not deny).

In turn, they're holding me back and prohibiting me from looking forward.

I argued with her at first, telling her that I'm not into this positive thinking stuff because, come on, IVF is anything but a rainbows and butterflies kind of experience.

And, she agreed with that. However, she said that IVF is moving forward, and it's the movement toward our dream of becoming parents that we want. Meanwhile, the Gremlins in my backseat are tugging at me, begging me to stay back with them and have a few drinks. And, frankly, I find the Gremlins hard to resist - the pain of infertility sucks, and there's just nothing like a little self pity to take the edge off.

However, my IF Shrink says that I need to be in a better place if we're going to proceed with this cycle. And if I keep looking backward, hanging out with my Gremlin pals, I'm not going to be able to move onward.

I knew last week that I needed to get a grip on my perspective. My Shrink says that I have to accept that this is our experience, and that it is independent of everyone else's pregnancies, babies and children.

She said that I also have to accept the timing element of this thing (and the lack of control I have over it). If we haven't come through an IVF cycle yet, then the timing wasn't right, and when it is, we will move through.

And, I need to learn to squash those dumbasses in the backseat.

Back to the (in)Fertility Shrink

I made an appointment with the (in)Fertility Shrink for next Thursday. I haven't seen her in several months, but I am going to have get some perspective on all of this - I'm not doing very well with it at all.

I've been asking myself a very difficult question since yesterday, and it keeps going through my head over and over again: Why didn't I call earlier? Why did I wait until 10 days after I stopped the pill to call those nurses?

I am not blaming myself for this. I am, however, questioning the fact that I am not a lackadaisical person about these kinds of things. I am the overly worried, neurotic, anal-retentive patient who begs the ultrasound tech to tell me everything she's seeing as she sees it. I carry a green three ring binder to all my appointments. I am the patient who drives these nurses crazy with question after question.

My sister called me Monday evening and asked, "So, has it started yet?"

My response was, "No, and I'm not really worried about it. It'll start when it starts."

That's not like me because I really was feeling a sense of apathy. Obviously. I waited 10 whole days to do anything about it.

I think a part of me is so tired that I don't even want to think about it anymore. I've enjoyed my break, and I'm not overly enthused about getting back into the game.

So tell me, have you ever just felt like enough is enough, and how in the hell did you find it in yourself to keep trudging through this?

By the way, this is not a rhetorical question - I would really like your feedback. I need some momentum. Badly.

I Am So Over This Whole Thing

I've really had it.

Apparently, Nurse Nightingale forgot to explain to me that I should be looking for a little spotting and not a full blown period. So, I missed it.

Seriously?

I called the Clinic today, and they said that I have to wait for my next period (which is probably about 3 weeks away) because I somehow should have known that a little spotting was my period this cycle. I've been sitting around waiting for the real thing. Then, it's baseline all over again, and I guess stims - I'm waiting to hear back from them about that part.

I am furious with her for not explaining that for me. I am furious with myself for not being more proactive by calling sooner. And I am most furious with the fact that we even have to go through this crazy madness.

This is getting ridiculous.

I am beginning to think that we aren't supposed to do this. It's like we can't even get past the starting line, and I'm so tired of going through this again and again.

So, I'm feeling sorry for myself because I don't understand why this is happening or what I've done in my life to deserve this misery (must have been something pretty damned bad). It just keeps happening over and over again, and I'm just exhausted of dealing with all the pregnant people, the fact that my 35th birthday is about 4 months away and the fact that practically everyone I know is well into their child bearing/having experience.

So, if we go forward (and I guess we don't have a choice since the money is already out there), we're looking at yet another month away.

I'm so tired.

It's a Go...Today, Anyway

I'm still on the bandwagon, as of today. This cycle I am just realistic - my goal is just to hold onto the wagon and remain in the process as long as I can. Vanished is my idealistic self who used to believe that a girl could give herself a few shots, go through an egg retrieval and end up with a few embryos. I get it now - it's an accomplishment just to make it from one step to the next.

Baseline ultrasound and E2 levels indicate that we can move ahead, per Nurse Nightingale. The cyst is still present on my left ovary, but is the same size. No worries about it presently.

Now, I'm just waiting for Aunt Flo to appear. Meds will start on Day #3.

As is typical in IF Land, I am now waiting again and mentally preparing for the numerous (additional) questions that will no doubt arise in the next few days.

Ugh.

Let the Roller Coaster Ride Begin! (With a Twist of Irony, Of Course)

Yesterday I called the Clinic and left a message that my cycle start date was 12/31 and that I wanted to see about getting orders from Dr. A. so we could start moving forward. I presumed I wouldn't start anything until Lupron around the 20th of Jan.

Couple of hours later I received a voicemail (I missed the call - UGH!) from the nurse saying that Dr. A. has written our orders and that since she's changing our protocol for this cycle (which I didn't know until I received this message), we just missed the "window of opportunity" for this month but would have "plenty of time" to get things started with my next cycle.

Ummm, no, waiting is not an option.

She said that if we had questions, we could call back. Due to their reduced Holiday hours, they would be leaving at 4:30, and would return to full hours on Monday.

It was 4:26 when I received this message. So, I called back, no answer.

I freaked out for the next few minutes and then decided to call back again. It was 4:32.

The nurse answered (for which I'm convinced she deserves the Nurse Nightingale Award).

She said that Dr. A. wants to change my protocol, which means birth control pills beginning on cycle day 3. Since we connected, we're going to be able to proceed this month, and the nurse agreed to call in my birth control pills.

But, birth control pills? Seriously?

I've read that this is a standard sort of thing for IVF, but in my mind, it is the ultimate irony. I can't believe I'm officially back on the pill. I popped my first one last night.

So, I'm 34 years old, have been trying to conceive for 26 cycles and I'm taking the pill again. This roller coaster sucks.

We still have some kinks to work out on Monday about the stims she wants to use, but IVF attempt #2 is officially in motion.

Will keep you posted.

Hello, 2009!

I've always loved the New Year because it affords me an opportunity to be a little sentimental and philosophical about the passing year. Last year, I created a Top Ten list for our Christmas cards, reflecting back over the events occurring in our family over the course of 2007.

This year, I didn't have the creative energy to put it together (along with the energy to do much of anything "Holiday-related"), but now that it's Jan. 2 (IT'S FINALLY HERE!!), I have developed a new energy to document 2008's highlights, so here goes:


10. I ran a minimarathon with my good friend Angela. It was an amazing experience, and I loved every minute of it. I'm excited about doing it again someday.

9. Vacations to Boston and Washington D.C. Great trips, and according to everyone I know with kids, someday I'll be even more grateful for these "pre-kid" memories.

8. Starting a new job. It wasn't something I expected out of the year, but it was a tremendous gift all in all.

7. Discovering the blog world. This is certainly one of the best things that happened to me this year. Blogging has become an incredible, invaluable therapy for me through this infertility experience.

6. Progress in Infertility-ville: We endured half of an IVF cycle and 3 IUIs in 2008. Sure, none of them were successful, but we made it anyway (i.e. we're still alive).

5. L. started interviewing for jobs. This is a major hurdle in our lives as he's been in school for a very long time, and hopefully, life is going to settle down a little in 2009.

4. Significant family events: My sister broke up with her commitment-phobic boyfriend (this time, it's for good) and L.'s brother got married (my new sister-in-law and are far from what I would call "best friends", but we've managed to find some common ground with each other because, after all, what choice do we have?).

3. I endured IF and it's impact on my friendships. Some of this has been a disappointing (and harrowing) experience, but I've moved on nonetheless and am learning the merits of self-care.

2. I am learning that maybe unexplained infertility is a decent diagnosis if you have to have a diagnosis at all. I'm still working on this one, but L. almost has me convinced.

1. I feel closer than ever to my wonderful, amazing, committed, loyal husband. And, it just doesn't get better than that. No, I can't say that my #1 2008 is a positive pregnancy test, or the birth of a child. What I can say with absolute certainty, however, is that I am married to the most wonderful person for me on Earth.

So, that's my Top Ten List for the year. I'm going to dive back into the blogging world - I've missed you all, and I'm ready to start plugging along with you again.

Happy 2009. I hope it's "The Year" for us all.

By the way, we had a great kid-free New Year's, and it really rocked!! :)

Also, to celebrate the long-awaited arrival of January 2, I called the Clinic to let them know that we're ready to get started on the IVF thing again. Looks like Lupron will start around the 20th.

My Drug Holiday

I spoke to my nurses today, and they assured me (as have many of you) that starting your period while on progesterone (especially suppositories) is something that can happen, and is no real reason for alarm.

They offered to let me start meds in late December, and after considering the possibility of Lupron under the Christmas tree, I politely declined.

I've decided that I am in desperate need of a Drug Holiday, and I'll worry about Lupron and stims in 2009. Thus, the remainder of 2008 will be spent doing the following:

1. Taking a HOT, HOT bath every single night.

2. Drinking Pinot Grigio whenever I damn well feel like it.

3. Exercising (i.e. running) whenever I damn well feel like it.

4. Drinking loads and loads of caffeine in the form of peppermint mochas and lattes whenever I damn well feel like it.

So, the plan is that we will reinitiate our attempt at IVF #1 in January, probably between the 15th and 20th.

Nightie Night. I'm off to take a plunge in a boiling, hot bathtub.

Curveballs and Searching for Opal

After a couple of days to reflect, pray and nestle into the cocoon of supportive blogger and in-real-life friends and family, I'm ready to get back on the saddle.

Thank you to everyone who followed my blog, text messaged, called, and emailed. I can't tell you what it meant to feel surrounded by so much love during this time of great disappointment.

On Wednesday I felt like someone had snatched tickets to the World Series out of my hand and replaced them with admittance to a minor league baseball game. I was deeply moved this week by an e-mail message from a good friend of mine: Even curveballs produce homeruns, you know.

So today, we head two hours north for an IUI tomorrow morning.

Final numbers:

E2=712

3 (measurable) follicles (20, 20, 16.5)

Trigger shot last night.

Praying for the best and a little Opal Optimism in lieu of my good friend Debbie D.

I Hate to Be a Debbie Downer, But...

...I am.

E2 = 278

Follicles with hope of maturing = 3

We're screwed for this cycle. We're going to do one more ultrasound, and then they're recommending IUI on Sunday with plans to reconfigure my meds "if we don't conceive".

Please. The jig's up, let's face it.

This is probably related to my long stint on Lupron thanks to my beautiful cyst. At least, that's what I'm hoping. The Debbie-Downer part of me is wondering if this is some sort of sign that there are some other horrible things at play here. My RN doesn't seem to think so, and neither does L., but frankly, I think I have a right to be Debbie-Downer today given that I'm dealing with this news with massive amounts of hormones floating around in my body...needlessly, I might add.

Not much else to say except that life really sucks today.

Jumping Hurdles on Hormones Really Bites

Okay, so this is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.

Frankly, this IVF hurdle thing is my own little personal version of hell. Just when you think that you've accomplished something, another hurdle appears in front of the one that just zapped all your energy. And, I'm living through all of this under the influence of drugs that make me weepy about absolutely everything. (Clomid might be evil, but these hormones are enough to make me wonder how I'm going to get through my next work meeting without tears streaming down my cheeks because my pen ran out of ink.)

So, ultrasound #1 is history. Since my clinic is two hours away, my OB-GYN offered to do my monitoring. While I was grateful to not have to return to the fertility clinic here in town (a place which I detest passionately), undergoing ultrasounds amongst the pregnant may not have been the best choice while these hormones are swimming around my body. Also, it took my doctor's office way too long to send results to the Clinic we're using, which really almost pushed me over the edge today. Obviously, I'm going to have to discuss that with someone there tomorrow to keep it from being an issue on Wednesday.

Nonetheless, results from the world's most thorough ultrasound tech (I've never had a longer ultrasound):

-14 follicles total - 4 are currently measurable (10, 10, 10 1/2 and 12).

-Estradiol = 90 (A little low, according to my RN. I'm wondering if this could be attributed to my extended time on Lupron and will be consulting with Hannah the acupuncturist about this tonight.)

And, of course, I am now obsessed with estradiol and have googled it at least 10 times in the last 2 hours. And, with that, my next hurdle was born: PLEASE INCREASE!!!!

On a positive note, as I was awaiting my ultrasound this morning, a pregnant woman sat down beside me and overheard my conversation with my RN I had to call from my cell phone. When I hung up, she asked if I was doing IVF with the Clinic. I said yes, and she said that she did as well. In fact, while her first fresh cycle was not successful, both of her children were the results of Frozen Embryo Transfers from her original cycle. In a word where I literally feel surrounded by the easy-breezy pregnant, it was nice to hear that this morning.

So, that's today's story. I have a completely renewed appreciation, respect and deep admiration for all of you who have gone through this IVF thing and lived to tell the story. I thought about each of you many times as I sloshed through this day.

Acupuncture tonight, more shots tonight, and tomorrow night. Next ultrasound Wednesday.

On to the next hurdle...