Hollerdaze!

I had prepared a sanctimonious rant, but I’ve scrapped it in favor of just talking about how excited I am for the holidays this year.

My brother and his wife (Lord and Lady Bear) are coming out to visit this year! They’ll be here on Friday and will be staying well through the New Year. Yes, I saw them last summer, but Lord Bear and I were very close as kids, and dammit I miss him! Plus, Lady Bear is one of the sweetest, most fun people I know – I’m lucky to have her for a sister-in-law.

We don’t celebrate Christmas, so this works out nicely for Lord and Lady Bear’s visit. Friday being the Winter Solstice (our holiday), we’ll be picking them up from the airport and grabbing lunch with our Uncle, then heading back home to chill out and wait for Hubs to get home from work (he couldn’t get out of it this year), do presents and then get ready for my End of the World Solstice Dinner.

Normally our Solstice looks like this:

1.) Stockings and presents in the morning – One present FOR each person, FROM each person. That way, within our little nucleus, no one gets more than two actual presents. Little piddly things are fine in stockings, but nothing expensive. Some years we have a little extra money, so we’re able to get big-ticket items. Other years we have to scrape to get even a little cash together, so we make gifts. But either way, much thought is put into each gift, and I’ve never had a year where I didn’t absolutely love what I was given.

2.) Chill out as a family for the day – if electronics are given as gifts, they can be used, but the recipient has to be near the rest of the family

3.) In the evening, we throw a big potluck dinner party for family and friends, and give out gifts to our closest friends, as surreptitiously as possible. It’s always loud and fun and comfortable.

It works out well, because then we can either just relax and do nothing on Christmas Day, or go visit family without sacrificing our own family time. This year it’s even better, because this way Lord & Lady Bear can visit us for our holiday and our father and his family for Christmas Day.

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Sponsored By The Letter "D"

The last of my fears regarding this pregnancy have been obliterated as of today.

As I expected, the staff at The Big Hospital was extremely friendly, and they were all pleased to see me again. Apparently Dr. Badass WAS there and was bummed that I hadn't gotten an appointment with her, but the nurses assured her that I had asked for her specifically, and that I would try to make as many of my upcoming appointments as I could, with her. It's nice to be wanted.

I met with a new obstetrician, instead. (I'll call him Dr. Goggles, for lack of a better nickname.) He was pretty cool; very laid-back and easygoing. He asked if I minded if he brought in a student, because Dr. Badass had told him I was a good practice-patient, and didn't normally mind. I didn't. She was very nice, if a little nervous. It was clear that she was still pretty wet behind the ears, so I went easy on her. She took lots of notes in a little black book - something I've never seen before - but I heard her chatting with the new OB outside the door, so I assume she was taking notes to report back to him and get his evaluation of her performance before he came in.

I have to admit, I was more than a little relieved at how laid-back he was. I was on a relatively tight schedule, and didn't REALLY want to go have tests repeated that I had done back in March at The IVF Clinic. So I didn't have to get re-tested for STDs, and I didn't have to get tested for diabetes! WOO!

Anyway; fears have subsided. Today's ultrasound was sponsored by the letter "D" for Doctor. One of the fertility specialists at The Big Hospital came and did my ultrasound with yet another student. They measured Tempest at around 7 weeks, 3 days, so that put my due date (by their calculations) right around the same time that the IVF Clinic and I figured it - July 19th-ish. The IVF Doctor said that within the next couple of weeks (post-visit-with-him), Tempest's heart rate should be up over 120 beats per minute. Today it was 136 beats per minute, which the Fertility Specialist said was excellent. I've never had an ultrasound done by a doctor before; I like it! It cuts out the middle-man, so I get to know what I need to know right away!

I emailed I.F. all the information and asked what his schedule looks like, so I can try to arrange further appointments when he's available. Hopefully he gets back to me soon. We're looking at sometime between January 4th and 11th for the next appointment.

Appointments!

I have my first OB appointment at The Big Hospital tomorrow afternoon. One of the things I love most about that place is how very personable the Women’s Health staff is. When I called to set up the appointment, the nurse who returned my call made sure to mention that she remembered me and was so glad I was going back there for this pregnancy. Then when I called to let them know I had requested that my chart be sent up from The IVF Clinic and the head Women’s Health nurse called me back to help me schedule my follow-up ultrasound, she knew me by name and also expressed excitement that I was choosing them to provide my care again. She also pulled some strings to make sure that I got in for an ultrasound earlier than the date I was initially given by the nurse who set up my appointment. Seriously love these people.

I haven’t met the doctor who is scheduled to see me tomorrow. To be honest, when I was asked who I’d prefer to see, I had to ask for the obstetrician who delivered WiggleWorm. She has a badass name, and is the coolest, most laid-back obstetrician I’ve ever met, so I’ll refer to her as Dr. Badass. She didn’t have any appointments this week, but the nurses have made a note in my file that I prefer her so that I get her as often as possible. I’m seriously hoping that she’s the OB on the floor when I give birth to Tempest.

I also scheduled an appointment at Community College to see what I need to do to start getting my prerequisites out of the way and transfer to nursing school. I think I can get my employer to pay for classes if I propose that I could work for the Department of Health (which is a very real possibility, assuming I can get through school). I wouldn’t start classes till Fall – wouldn’t want Tempest to mess with classes and vice versa – but if I can make this happen, it’ll be a big step toward my personal career goal. Fingers crossed!

Stormones

Thus far, this pregnancy has given me far more symptoms than any other pregnancy I've endured. I've got hot flashes, cold chills (no, it's not a cold; I checked with my doctor), constant hunger (no constant thirst or need to pee - Pooka's father is diabetic - I know the symptoms all too well), sore breasts, nausea, sleeplessness, exhaustion, hypersensitive nose and food cravings and aversions. Oh, and mood swings from the bowels of perdition.

I am so incredibly lucky to be married to Hubs. No, really. No less than four times over the last week and a half, I have been unable to stop myself from trying to start fights with him over paltry, meaningless things, and not a single one of those times has he even considered rising to the bait. Granted, he never does rise to the bait, even when I'm not pregnant, but all that means is that MY HUSBAND IS A SAINT.

Seriously though: half the time I feel like I want to punch something, and the other half of the time I can't get enough affection. All the time I want to eat and sleep... This is gonna be a fun pregnancy...

P.S. I mentioned in my previous post that my due date is July 19, 2013. What I neglected to mention is that the date I calculated was July 20, 2013. Not bad for an amateur!

Turned Over

My days of waking up at 4:30 in the morning to get ready for a 6-hour round trip to The IVF Clinic are over! Well, at least for this particular pregnancy. Woo hoo!

Mama and I hit the road at about 5:45 yesterday morning with coffee for her and an orange coolatta and breakfast sandwich for me. The first-trimester nausea has hit full-force, so coffee is now out. With Pooka, the only thing that calmed my stomach was Lipton’s green tea with honey. With Wiggle-Worm it was predominantly strawberries. Teapot Tempest seems to prefer orange or other citrusy things.

We had a marvelous chat all the way down to The Clinic’s Satellite Office! This is a marked difference between her and Hubs. Much as I adore my sweet, wonderful husband; he inevitably falls asleep on long car rides, which does very little to help me stay awake. Mama, on the other hand, can not only chat and keep me company, she can read and crochet in the car too! This is me being seriously impressed. Sorry, Hubs.

We checked in with the receptionist and waited around for quite a while before realizing that I needed to put my name on their little sign-in sheet. I should have known, but pregnant-brain has also settled in. At The IVF Clinic’s main office, I always have to sign in for blood work and ultrasounds, but being in a different location, it completely slipped my mind. Once I finally did that, it took very little time for me to get in to be seen. They let Mama come with me too. Apparently she’s never been subjected to internal ultrasounds; and has never seen an embryo via ultrasound – only a fetus.

Anyway: Teapot Tempest looks about like this right now (this isn’t from the clinic; it’s an estimate I nabbed from Wikipedia of a 6-week old embryo.):

It’s a little behind dates for its size, but The IVF Doctor said that’s normal for a frozen cycle. Its heartbeat was measured at 112 beats per minute, which is normal for its size. I have to go to The Big Hospital in the next week or two, for a follow-up ultrasound. At that time, they’ll be looking for Tempest’s heartbeat to be over 120 beats per minute.

This is the actual ultrasound picture (some info removed for privacy’s sake):

I’m stuck on the hormones till January 4^th, but all things considered it’s a pretty small price to pay for a healthy baby; and I've been turned over to regular OB care. P.S. My due date is July 19, 2013.

We stopped off at Quincy Market on the way home, since Mama had never been. Wandered around; got a Fanueil Hall penny for Mama; a Solstice present for Wifey and a yummy pretzel in the food court before Mama got a hankerin' for Taco Bell. DarkForce never showed up, so we took off for home; hitting Taco Bell on the way. Mama managed to finish her blanket before we arrived at her house - she's a crocheting machine!

Hubs helped me drop off the car and we picked up dinner on the way home, since our cooking facilities appear to me malfunctioning, and the repair guy seems to be dragging his feet. Harumph. Oh well. Watched "Reaper" till bedtime and crashed around 9:00 with a CatButt on my feet.

Jumping Bean and Weekend Shenanigans

Now that we’ve established that the little Teapot Tempest is definitively stuck in my womb, I get one more trip down to The IVF Clinic for an ultrasound to confirm that Tempest has a viable heartbeat. Basically this means looking at a blurry, gray, bean-shaped spot on the monitor and making sure it’s behaving like a proper jumping bean.

I’ll be doing this on the 28^th at 9:30 in the morning. Hubs has to work, and dammit it’s a long, boring trip. So I asked my friend Mama to go with me instead. She’s never been down to Beantown, so we’re gonna stop off at Quincy Market to poke around for a while, and then catch lunch with an old college friend. (I’ll call him DarkForce. My gamer-nerd college friends will know who he is, but the rest of you won’t. Ha!)

This past weekend was, I must say, a BLAST! Xaotl and DarkForce and Rotorhead came over on Saturday, and OtherWife Skyped in from the west coast, and we played my homemade tabletop game (“Mutants”) for the vast majority of the afternoon. Then when Xaotl and Rotorhead and Hubs took off to meet their various obligations, DarkForce and I hung out and caught up with one another. We hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, with one very short exception over the summer when I got to meet his lovely wife and their adorable daughter, and got to see his mother again.

Sunday morning I failed spectacularly in my attempt to recreate the Hobbit Hole Breakfast from Denny’s. The rolls I bought were too small to accommodate a whole egg, so the over easy part was kinda messed up. They tasted alright, but it was NOTHING like Denny’s. Oh well. I’ll try again some other time. After breakfast, we saw DarkForce off, took Pooka up to visit friends in the Queen City area, then rushed home and put together vegan, gluten-free stuffing for our friends (Fifteen and his lovely wife) “Friendsgiving” event. Lovely Wife can’t have wheat gluten, and last year I made vegan stuffing, so I was challenged to make vegan, gluten-free stuffing this year. It wasn’t bad, but I’d tweak it a little more, I think.

Then last night, since Pooka has no school today, Hubs and I took her up to The Queen City to catch a movie with said same friends. We bummed around Barnes & Noble for a while, then went to Texas Roadhouse with Rotorhead and Bamf and ate ourselves stupid in honor of my brother’s thirty-first birthday.

There. I’ve spilled my guts, Auntie-Dearest, as promised.

Preggosaurus 2: Return of the Baby Bump Is Back In (Re)Production

I didn’t want to post a new blog on Friday. Admittedly I was still a bit gun-shy after the last cycle’s miserable beta-hCG results, and the relatively low results on Friday. The levels are expected to be between 50 and 85 or so (if memory serves) on the first test. With Wiggle Worm they were around 84. With the last cycle, they were in the 70’s. Friday they were 66; which is within the expected range, but still lower than even the failed cycle.

Well, I went up to the local hospital yesterday morning at 6:30 for my follow-up blood draw. What do I find at registration? The IVF Clinic didn’t send in the lab orders. So I spent almost half an hour trying to help the registrar re-create an order, having informed me that I needed to contact the IVF Clinic to ask them to send in the order. We ended up having to do it twice, after pulling in another registrar to help, because the order the first woman created had the results going to my primary care physician who has nothing to do with the process; and hadn’t been ordered STAT; which is standard procedure for the IVF Clinic.

Finally I got in to see the same friendly phlebotomist I had on Friday. We had a chat about her hairdo (which looked lovely and complex, even though it apparently is her “I have no time to do my hair properly” hairstyle), her new puppy and her slew of geriatric cats. She and her husband foster cats for their local animal rescue, and have given up hope that people might want to adopt old cats with health problems.

Anyway, my levels have more than QUADRUPLED. As of yesterday morning, my beta-hCG levels were at 297. I guess that means Teapot Tempest (thanks for the inspiration, Xaotl!) is here to stay.

I managed to pop off at Dunkin Donuts to grab a quick breakfast for Hubs and Pooka and get home in time for Hubs to scoot to work. Did I mention he got a long-term sub gig at the school where he did his student teaching? I’m so proud of him. Tossed quick lunches together for my little family and kissed them out the door. Aaaand proceeded to veg-out and try a new show on Netflix, since I had the day off.

(Thank you Veterans; not just for the day off, [kidding!] but for your dedicated service.)

I did manage to drag my fat, lazy arse off the couch long enough to do the dishes that I had let pile up over the weekend, and tidy up the rest of the house. I skipped vacuuming, but Hubs promised to do it for me today anyway.

I’m not normally lazy, I swear – I just wound up doing a lot of driving around this weekend. Pooka attended an anime convention with my stunning, dread-locked, goth friend (I’ll call her DreadGoth until she tells me not to), and had not planned to be invited to spend the night with her, so I had to bring the next day’s cosplay along with Pooka’s girlfriend on Saturday. We had a lovely brunch at Denny’s (OMIGOD MUST EAT “HOBBITHOLE BREAKFAST” EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE) and then I popped over to Casual Male and Michael’s for suspenders and Solstice present makings, respectively. Pooka’s girlfriend (not to be confused with friend-who-is-a-girl) had to be back in Central Vermont at 4:00, so I picked her up from the con and met up with her Mom at my house, then took a short, snuggly nap with Hubs before he had to go to work. I hadn’t expected him to still be home when I got back, so that was a nice surprise.

Sunday Hubs and I got to spend the whole day together, which was marvelous. He let me sleep in, and then we watched Game of Thrones for a couple hours before deciding that it was time to head out. We popped over to Hubs’ second job to pay our friend Nate for the brake job he did on our car; then drop off some winter coats at a Yellow Box; stopped off to visit Wifey for a minute, and then have a lunch date and pick up some necessities in and around the Queen City before picking Pooka and her friends up from the con.

So all in all it was a long, lazy, happy, reproductive weekend.

The Oncoming Storm (50 Nerd Points If You Get The Reference)

Still four and a half days until I'm scheduled to go up to the Little Hospital for blood tests to check my hCG levels for pregnancy, but I'm pretty sure I know what the results will be.

I'm intermittently queasy - not full-on nauseous like I was with my Pooka or with WiggleWorm, but still a little green around the gills here and there throughout the day. Eating a little bit usually takes care of it. I'm consistently low on energy, but I'm me, so I push through it most of the time anyway. The weird thing that's going on this time that I've never experienced during early pregnancy before is my boobs. HOLY MACKEREL do my knockers ache! It's not too bad when they're supported (i.e. my trusty over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder), but they're still pretty sore. The doom comes when I set them free for the night. No matter what I do - stand, sit, lie down - it's pain. Not unbearable pain, per se, but a deep, constant ache - almost like being engorged, but without the part where my over-sized melons hang off my ribcage.

I'm thinking this is going to be "the one" for this cycle. As I mentioned before, WiggleWorm was deposited into my waiting womb on Yom Kippur. We'll see what this one brings, but my "intuition" tells me I.F. is in for his own little storm with this baby. Transferred during a hurricane; causing new and uncomfortable sensations for its Gestational Carrier (me); this baby's gonna be a little 9th Doctor (Who. Pardon the geekery) The Oncoming Storm.

So for now, I'm calling him/her Tempest. I also think this one's gonna wind up being a boy.

Might Have To Call This Baby "Sandy."

Wow, what a day! It has definitely not qualified as one of the most normal ones I've ever had. Perhaps this is the aforementioned "event" about which I spoke in my previous post.

Hubs and I got up and got ourselves and Munchkin going; got Hubs off to work and scooted back home to bring in the last couple things that still lived outside. As I was settling in to futz around on de Facebooks for a little while before I had to leave, I got a phone call from The IVF Clinic's cheery receptionist, asking if I'd be willing to make it in between noon and 12:45. Being 9:00, I figured sure, I could probably do that. So I headed out early. The wind and rain picked up about an hour and a half south of home. It tried to push me around a little, but I've driven in nasty windy blizzards before; it's far easier to compensate in warm rain than freezing rain or snow.

Half an hour out from The IVF Clinic, I got ANOTHER phone call from them, asking me if I could come in even earlier. Seriously? The receptionist was clever enough to note that my home address is THREE HOURS AWAY - How does that somehow change from one staff member to another? *headdesk* I told the woman I was already en-route and would be there within half an hour. This did not seem to please her, but I wasn't going to speed into the outer edges of a hurricane, thank-you-very-much.

Once I arrived, however; the staff were as pleasant and welcoming as if I had handed them each a million dollars. They pretty much always treat me that way (which is why I was so jarred by the brusque treatment I got during the second phone call.) The transfer was done by a different IVF Doctor, but he was just as confident and reassuring as My Normal IVF Doctor.

They transferred three embryos. One was 9 cells; one was 8 cells and one was 4 cells. The IVF Doctor said it went very well, and that the embryos look good. I'll be calling The IVF Clinic probably tomorrow or Wednesday to ask them to sent a requisition for blood work to The Local Hospital for a pregnancy test on November 9th. WOO!

Outside the IVF Clinic, the wind was so strong it whistled past the doors, and several gusts were strong enough to almost knock MY fat @$$ over. I made it home safe and sound though, with one pit stop at Cracker Barrel for lunch. I learned an important lesson there: Eating lunch by yourself in a sit-down restaurant makes you look sad and pathetic. From here on out, I'm gonna stick to drive-thru.

Once back in my neck of the woods, Hubs and I picked up various alternative light sources; some extra water, and dinner since the power was out. Of course, about two minutes before we turned to go downtown, the power came back on. Better that than extended outages before the thick of the storm gets here anyway. I also found out that state offices are on a delayed-opening schedule, so even if work DOESN'T get canceled, I get to sleep in! WOO!

Embryos and Hurricanes

Friday I went down to The IVF Clinic for blood tests and an ultrasound to make sure that everything looked good for another embryo transfer. I tried to get them to let me do this part up at The Big Hospital here at home, but alas; the cycle is a package deal, and would have cost I.F. whether I went down to The IVF Clinic or not. So I got up at 4:00am, showered, grabbed my stuff, gassed up the car and popped over to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast so I'd be on the road by 5:15. Turned out to be a good thing I did leave a little early, since of course traffic down that way at the beginning of the day is always congested.

Some pokes and prods later, I was informed unofficially that the lining of my uterus was at 10.4mm on one side and 9.75mm on the other. I drove home, still nervous about what that meant; what if it was too thick? I knew that the preferred thickness for transfer was at least 8.5mm, but I didn't know if there was a maximum.

I'm not gonna lie; I'm a little gunshy about this cycle. Wiggleworm was unanimously successful from the get-go. The first cycle on this attempt was a pathetic failure. Maybe it was because Wiggleworm was transferred on Yom Kippur? Maybe this one is waiting for something memorable too. If so, I guess that being transferred as a massive hurricane makes landfall in the Northeast would certainly be memorable. Let's go with that.

I got a call on the way back home, informing me that everything looks great, and I'd get a call from the scheduler for an embryo transfer on Monday. Long story short: 1:30 tomorrow afternoon. WOO!

After I got home from The IVF Clinic; tired and a little cranky (driving 6 hours by myself while on hormones can do that to me, I guess), I decided to take a nap before I had to pick Hubs up from work and then drive another two hours south to my grandparents' house, since it was my weekend "in the barrel.*" It was not to be. Hubs wanted to chat, and then wanted to be picked up early. Shortly after we got back home and I tried to lay down, since Hubs had to go to a meeting for which he needed the car; Munchkin got home and wanted help getting ready for a dance that evening.

Once I finally got Munchkin and her friend into their costumes for the dance, it was too late to try to nap, so I packed up and headed out. I stopped at the store to pick up cookies for Grampy, who's in a physical rehabilitation facility for a broken pelvis. I had intended to visit him before going on to his house to hang out with Grammie and Eldest Uncle, but there was no way I was going to arrive at the facility before visiting hours were over. I also learned that he's not allowed to eat solid foods; only pureed ones, for the time being.

I had a lovely visit with Grammie and Eldest Uncle Friday evening, and stayed up chatting with them till 1:00am. I hadn't pulled a 21-hour-day for years, so needless to say I slept in a little Saturday morning. Eldest Uncle and I popped over to see Grampy for a couple hours, and we brought Uncle's little white dog, who is beautifully behaved and absolutely adorable. The older folks just love him; Grampy especially.

After our visit, I scooted over to the grocery store to pick up dinner fixin's. Made bacon-stuffed chicken breasts, rosemaried carrots and rice pilaf, which met with approval from Grammie as well as Eldest Uncle and Next-Up-From-Dad Uncle. (I've got three on that side. They rock.) Played cards and got totally stomped by Grammie and Eldest Uncle, but had fun nonetheless.

Today has been all about cleaning: Grammie's house and mine. Grocery shopping; lunch-making; dinner buying, etc. Breakfast was scrambled eggs with mushrooms, onions and peppers, and a little Montreal steak seasoning (a family staple), and bacon. Grammie and I made some egg salad for Eldest Uncle. Both Uncles and Grammie were highly complimentary, which obviously makes me feel special. (See? They rock.)

So yeah. Embryo transfer tomorrow. I'll let people know how it goes.

*I have learned that many people do not understand what I mean by this phrase, so I shall expound. Earlier this year, a schedule of sorts was established amongst the family that lives in state, so that every other weekend, one of our little nuclei would be responsible for visiting and doing the bigger household tasks at Grammie & Grampy's house. This would ensure that they were not left wanting for company or for help around the house, since they're both in their mid-eighties. My "weekend in the barrel" is therefore, the weekend for which I am scheduled to visit.

Giant Leap Forward, Teeny Steps Back

Menses numero dos has come and gone, and I am finally back on surro-meds. These last six weeks or so, I have learned that miscommunication can be an interesting thing, and it happens to even the best people.

After menses number one, it turned out that the financial details were never sorted out, and so we had to wait for me to have another one before anything could move forward. Menses number two started, and The IVF Clinic still had nothing in the fiscal department. I contacted The Agency and I.F. to find out what was going on. Turned out I.F. was WAY out of town and was having trouble faxing in the necessary paperwork. So my favorite Carrier Coordinator (seriously; I love her; she's fabulous) at The Agency contacted The IVF Clinic and set things up to move forward. Unfortunately, the other nurses at The IVF Clinic weren't aware of the arrangements that had been made, so when I called into report the beginning of my cycle, they couldn't give me my instructions for starting the meds again (which is kind of silly, because I already know what they want me to do; but timing is key, so I had to wait.) I did finally get in touch with our IVF Doctor's nurse, who gave me instructions and said she'd check in with me on Monday, because...

Much as I adore being able to pop off and visit Xaotl and her littles on the way back from The IVF Clinic, I really can't afford to take two or more days off of work, for a twenty-minute appointment (including the time in the waiting room.) It's a three-hour drive down and a three-hour drive back, if the traffic is good both ways. So I got permission to do my pre-transfer monitoring at The Big Hospital, rather than at The IVF Clinic. This should save me lots of time, and keep I.F.'s reimbursement obligations down, too.

So we're on the move again. Hooray!

As a side note: I'm still absolutely loving our little apartment! It's close to downtown, it's cute, it's warm and it's quiet.

Hunger Games

Alright, admittedly this is WAY off topic for this blog, but it was so much fun I had to share!

Munchkin turned 12 at the end of last month, but knowing that people are often out of town or otherwise engaged on Labor Day, we pushed the party back a week. She wanted to play Hunger Games for her birthday. Some close friends had created a way to play at home, so we stole their idea and ran with it. It worked out REALLY well.

I bought 24 white tee shirts online for about $1.70 apiece, and some dark-shirt iron-on printable paper. I printed all of the District symbols for Districts 1-12, and used the free Hunger Games downloadable font to print the kids' names onto the paper; cut the designs and names out, ironed them onto the shirts; two kids per district and VOILA, instant party favors.

I used the same font to print off "life" tokens. Five for the little kids; three for the big kids. Each token had the kid's name on it, so they couldn't be stolen.

I also hit up the dollar store and bought fifteen foam weapons - I didn't want everyone to wind up with a weapon, cause that would be fair, and therefore not in the spirit of The Hunger Games.

The party happened at a local park, which was great because there were woods everywhere, and the shelter is free to reserve for city residents. We fed the kids, and did presents, then had them sit down so that my friend "Wifey," dressed as Effie Trinket, could call the "Tributes" up to receive their shirts and tokens, and be acknowledged by everyone else. Then my stepdad, acting as President Snow, greeted the Tributes and wished them Happy Hunger Games. Effie then returned to the fore and announced the rules:

1.) If you are "killed," you must drop your weapon and return to "The Cornucopia" to hand in a token to one of the adults. There, you must count to 100 before "re-spawning."
2.) If you lose all of your tokens, you must return to "The Cornucopia" and set your district tee shirt aside, and then may return to the woods as a "muttation" and may tag the tributes to kill them.
3.) If you become a "muttation" you must be tagged five times before you die, at which point you return to "The Cornucopia" and re-spawn as the tributes do.

In addition to having to watch out for one another, a group of parents (myself included) ran around the woods pretending to be balls of fire; tracker-jackers and muttations, so the kids had to watch out for us, too. The mutts could be killed; the tracker-jackers and balls of fire could only be outrun.

Over all it was a great time, and even after we declared victors (two of the littlest kids who won through legitimate means), the kids asked to play again, so we reset the weapons and gave them a second shot at it.

I'm considering making this a monthly event, if we get enough interested kids and parents...

All told the party was inexpensive, easy and EPIC!

Baby Steps

Well, it’s been right around a month, and I have now had the menses I need to have. I called The IVF Clinic and they said I should inventory my surro-meds and report back to them. Of course, what with preparations for my munchkin’s birthday party, I keep forgetting to. I don’t expect it to cause problems, since they’re still waiting on IF for some fiscal details anyway.

I’m thinking this cycle will be about baby steps. (Ha, punny.) And not getting my hopes too far up too fast. Oh patience, why must you elude me so?

On an up note: We are good and settled in our new apartment. It’s small, but functional and I absolutely love it. Hubs has a few minor gripes, but he admits it’s a nice place. We’re within walking distance of his work, stores, Munchkin’s school and well within biking distance to my job, and we live in the same apartment building as Munchkin’s best friend – there’s even a little breezeway to get from their back door to ours.

So hopefully this will be a relaxing experience, and we won’t have any huge scary floods, and IF can take home another mellow, healthy baby. This is me crossing my fingers.

Mostly Over It

Well ladies and gentlemen, Preggosaurus 2: Return of the Baby Bump has thrown us its first red herring. This pregnancy's initial hCG levels started out strong at 70. Second test: 114. Not a great sign, but not bad, either. The levels are supposed to double every couple of days. Third test: 179. Fourth Test: 229. Fifth test: 234. The IVF clinic has deemed this a non-viable pregnancy and instructed me to discontinue my medications. What this means is that we're going to allow this embryo to miscarry. Hopefully it will do so on its own, and I won't have to have a D&C (dilation and curettage) which I can tell you is not a pleasant experience. Then we'll start afresh with the same I.F. in a couple of months.

There's still a slight possibility that this could be an ectopic pregnancy (when the embryo implants in the fallopian tubes instead of the uterus - it's a dangerous event and if not treated promptly, can be fatal), but it's unlikely, sayeth the IVF Doctor, because my hCG levels are starting to plateau.

I'll be honest; I was sky-high at the idea of pulling off a successful pregnancy on the first try, twice in a row. But discouragement began settling in after the second blood test. I felt like I had somehow done something wrong; that I was a failure because it didn't thrive. I have come to the conclusion that this is just a lot ridiculous. If there are external factors involved here, it's got nothing to do with anything I've done. I have been diligent with my medications; eaten a relatively balanced diet; I don't smoke; I don't drink when we're in the process of preparing for pregnancy, and even when we're not, I rarely imbibe much.

I think what this boils down to is stress. My work environment is frustrating to the extreme. I'm in the middle of trying to move, which involves packing; arranging for Pixie Princess to go to a new school; notifying all of the necessary organizations of the new address; doing the actual moving and cleaning and repairing the former residence once the move is complete. On top of this, my mother and stepfather moved out this past weekend, and needed help doing so.

Once this embryo is gone and I've had my menses, we can start over, and I think by then I'll be in a better place to stay relaxed and take it easy. I was able to keep things pretty mellow with Wiggle Worm and she wound up being a mellow baby. I think if this one had gone to term it would most likely have been a poor, nervous wreck of a child.

So I'm over the discouragement, for the most part. I'll have my moments from time to time, of course, but dwelling on things that I can't change isn't going to change them, so I'll work on me and go from there.

The Uber-Ute Rides Again!

Got a call from the IVF nurse at The IVF Clinic a little over an hour ago, and...

That's right, ladies and gentlemen; nothing beats the Uber-Ute! I'm pregnant with surro-baby #2!

My hCG levels were at 70 as of this morning. What the doctors like to see at this stage of the game are hCG levels between 50-100, so this is good news. Granted, last time they were at 89 at this time, but we're also talking about a frozen cycle, so this is still encouraging. Now to think of a new nickname, cause "Wiggle Worm #2" just doesn't cut it.

I.F. called a little while ago to see if I had heard the good news yet. As any good IVF clinic should, they notified the real parent first. This pleases me greatly. I told him that yes, I had in fact gotten a voicemail from the nurse, instructing me to continue on my meds for now, and advising me where my levels were. Based on my conversation with I.F., they should double between now and Friday, when I go back up to the little hospital to get stuck again. I.F. was so excited; he said he didn't really think that things would take on the first try. He underestimated the power of the Uber-Ute. Haha! (This is me posing impressively.)

Hound Dog

I smell Pepsi. I'm not kidding. I smell Pepsi. I heard someone open a soda can, here at work, and suddenly smelled Pepsi. Now, this is not something I normally notice. I smell Pepsi when I open a can and take a drink of it, but otherwise, not so much. Out of curiosity, I called out, "Who's got Pepsi?" A surprised voice two cubicles away from me responded, "How did you know it was Pepsi?!"

Xaotl and my stepmother (Dumplin') have both stated that it's probably a safe bet at this point, that at least one embryo has implanted. I started getting queasy and woozy at my grandmother's house on Saturday and suspected it may have been something like implantation, but I wasn't entirely sure. This is a good indicator as well, but I'm not going to get all bouncy and excited till I find out for sure on the 10th.

On an unrelated note: We signed the lease and put the deposit down on our new apartment yesterday! and the landlord said that if we want to (with notification from him each time, of course), we can start moving little things in here and there before August 1, to make life easier. I think we're going to have a good relationship with our new landlord, yes I do.

Preggosaurus 2: Return of the Baby Bump

Dun, dun, DUUUUUUUUN! *ominous music and stuff*

Thankfully today's appointment wasn't until 10:45am, so Hubs and I "slept in" (read: did not get up at 4:00am) until 6:00, and were on the road by 7:00am. And by "on the road" I mean we had grabbed breakfast, gassed up the car and were nearly on the interstate by 7:00am. Apparently this was a bit too early, though, as we managed to get to the IVF Clinic an hour early. Therefore, we trundled around and found a TJ Maxx in which to putter until it was time to head back to the Clinic. We did manage to find a laptop-platform-fan-thing for the laptop for $5.00 and an umbrella for $10.00. Odd that the fan was cheaper, but oh well.

At the Clinic I was made to get nekkid from the waist down and put on the standard hospital-style bathrobe, thin, one-size-fits-all socks and a lovely blue hair net. By "lovely" I mean horrible. The doctor came out to show me and Hubs the stats on the three embryos they were going to transfer (two REALLY good ones and a "meh" one), then shuffled off to do an embryo transfer while I waited. Hubs got bored, so I sent him out into the waiting room. The nurses were very nice; they listened to all my ramblings and asked encouraging questions while they got me prepped on the table.

Nothing says "dignity" like laying on a table with your butt on a pillow and your knees as far apart as they can comfortably go. What was the term they use on Mystery Science Theater 3,000? Oh right. "Presenting like a mandrill." But it's all for the greater good and stuff.

The doctor that performed the embryo transfer for Wiggle Worm was female, and was not at all gentle with the "mean, cold duck lips." She pinched the inside of my bits with them and worked very quickly. I mean, it wasn't the worst pain I've ever experienced, but you'd think a WOMAN would be more careful with the speculum, right? Ack! Interestingly, it was the IVF doctor who oversaw Wiggle Worm's conception who did the transfer today. This doctor is male, and was a thousand times more gentle than the lady doctor.

The really strange part of the procedure was that the doctor, the nurse and the embryologist kept telling me what a "great job" I was doing. As far as I could tell, I was just laying there. The first couple times I just thanked them, but they kept on saying it over and over. Finally I told them, "You're all very complimentary, and I appreciate the encouragement, but you're the ones doing the work, here. I'm just flopped onto the table." At this point, the doctor informed me that no, I was doing exactly what they needed me to do; I stayed relaxed.

Now, I can understand that women going through IVF for themselves might be nervous about the procedure; wondering if it will take; stressing out over money and their femininity, as I understand that some women identify their ability to reproduce as their "womanhood," et cetera. But as none of that applies to me, I didn't see why I had a reason to be nervous or upset. And truth be told; my default setting is most often "relaxed." When I told the doctor I'd see him in seven weeks for the confirmation of heartbeat ultrasound, he grinned and declared my optimism "fantastic," then said he wished all of his patients were as easygoing and upbeat as I am.

I bet he says that to all the girls.

So on July 10, I will be going in (somewhere; I have to call the Clinic on Monday to see where they want me to go for blood testing) for pregnancy testing. If the executives called the embryos in my uterus decide this adventure is worth the time and effort, then "Preggosaurus 2: Return of the Baby Bump" has begun production!

Prog-stress!

Got up at 4:00 again yesterday... Well, more like 4:15-ish. It's REALLY hard to get out of bed when there's a snuggly Hubs in it. He never actively tries to keep me there; I just hate getting up when I could be snuggling him. Anyway! I got up, showered and went back upstairs to wake up my Pixie Princess, who was already awake and greeted me with a cheerful, "Morning Mom!" We popped off at McDrooble's for coffee and breakfast and proceeded on to her friend's house, where she had made plans to spend the day. Her friend's mom, who I had not yet met, is a lovely lady whose family has owned their house for seven generations. Impressive! She's very personable and very easy to chat with, so of course I wound up leaving late. EEP!

I *ahem* made up the time, despite my tendency toward what my Dad calls, "hand-on-the-doorknob syndrome" and had a SLIGHTLY gentler ultrasound and a much more proficient phlebotomist experience. That was pretty much it.

The friend with whom I was supposed to meet up for lunch was offered a job interview during the time we were supposed to meet, so we agreed to reschedule (Good luck, Ende!) and I stopped off to hang out with Xaotl and her kiddos again, instead. We went for a drive through her neck of the woods, which was lovely, and stopped off at McDrooble's for lunch; then scooted over to KMart so she could pick up a couple things for the Little Bits. I think Little Bit #1 may have been a little overstimulated, and poor Xaotl became increasingly frustrated with attempts to hop out of the cart and grab things. In my experience, I judge this to be 100% normal two-year-old behavior, but sometimes Mommies just need a break. So Little Bit #1 and I went and hung out in the car while Xaotl and Little Bit #2 finished their shopping. It only took a couple moments for the munchkin to calm down once outside in the quiet car, and we chattered and played a little while we waited. (Wound up with some REALLY cute Batman onesies for the kiddo that Hubs and I plan to have after this surro-baby; and some mosaic nail polish for Pixie Princess.) Once back at the house, I got some sit-and-snuggle time and some play time with Little Bit #1, which was fun.

Oh, and while we were waiting, the IVF Clinic called to tell me that my uterine lining was holding steady at 8.8mm and my progesterone levels were nice and low, so we're good to go for an embryo transfer on Friday! I started the Crinone gel last night (MESSY!), so huzzah for more mood swings. Heh.

Once I left there, I scooted back up homeward to pick up Pixie Princess and, much to my surprise, she asked me to stay and chat! HA! So I did, till 8:30. We had really yummy dinner (Marie Callender's penne and sausage; garden salad; three-bean salad and whole olives. Seriously, this woman is INCREDIBLE with presentation, and it took her maybe ten minutes to put it all together. She runs a bed and breakfast in Royalton. Absolutely yum. Since Pixie Princess and her friend were planning to go to a party just down the road, I agreed to let Princess spend the night, and headed home.

Once there, I administered my first dose of Crinone gel and CRASHED. I did have the presence of mind to set an alarm for 10:30 so I could go pick Hubs up from work, but apparently the restaurant closes at 9:00 on weekdays, so I was late for that. Home again; more Crinone and bed.

Just waiting, now, to hear from the IVF Clinic's surgery scheduler to find out what time the transfer is going to be, and get pre-surgery instructions.

Sunday we're meeting with our soon-to-be (new) landlord to sign the lease and give him the deposit on the apartment back in my hometown. I've sent in the enrollment paperwork for Pixie Princess to start her new school (old school district) at the end of August. We're packing. We've mudded all the holes in the walls that we made to hang pictures. I'm waiting to hear from our current landlord to find out whether he wants us to take down the "floating" shelf I built in our bedroom for the TV. The table is untouched since my last post. All I need to be able to relax a little is for the check for the embryo transfer to come by Friday so we can make sure we have the money for the deposit. Cross fingers!

Ultrasounds, Blood and Munchkins

I got up yesterday at 4:00am. Blech. Showered, grabbed my stuff and was out the door by 5:00 to get to the IVF Clinic for ultrasounds to check the thickness of the lining of my uterus, and blood work to check my progesterone levels (though I didn’t know this till I got there and was told to go see the phlebotomists.) Thank goodness for coffee and loud music, is all I can say. Trying to stay awake on an early-morning three-plus-hour drive by myself is not easy.

The ultrasound tech was NOT gentle with me. Note: While most people think ultrasounds are all done externally; they’re not. Pre-pregnancy and early pregnancy ultrasounds are done… Internally. Thus please understand my meaning when I say I am still quite sore. On top of that, the phlebotomist missed my vein. Three times. Granted, I hadn’t finished my second 32-ounce bottle of water yet, but even in a dehydrated state, I have HUGE veins, and they don’t generally roll.

Oh, and The Agency’s money guy seems to be in putz-mode. The Carrier Coordinator is furious with him. My check from the 8^th was JUST sent out on Tuesday. The Carrier Coordinator is planning to make sure my check from yesterday is sent out today, along with preemptive reimbursement for Tuesday when I go back down. Except for that one little issue, I really do love The Agency – they’re communicative, friendly, helpful – it’s great. I’m also told that they’ve hired a new money person, so that one little issue should be resolved very shortly.

As for the results of the ultrasound and blood tests, my uterine lining is already at 8.6mm, which I’m told is the thickness required for embryo transfer, so the IVF Clinic is happy about that. My progesterone levels are right where they’re supposed to be, too; so it looks like we should be a go for embryo transfer next Friday! I.F. isn’t going to be able to make it down for the transfer, but I’ll keep him posted anyway.

I also got to see my friend, to whom I will refer as Xaotl, and her kids yesterday. Holy CRAP are they cute! The older one is your standard excited toddler who, by the end of the visit, was crawling all over me and squeaking with my favorite kind of munchkin giggles (those kind of giggles are 100% contagious). The younger one is still an infant, but sociable! Holy macaroni; just totally mellow and smiley and cool. Both kids have these absolutely beautiful, stare-straight-into-your-soul big eyes and bright red pouty lips. I tell ya, they’re gonna be heart-breakers, the pair of them. All in all it was a fabulous visit; Xaotl is absolutely radiant, both as a woman and a mom, and it was so good to see her after so many years. Hopefully it won’t be another decade before we do it again!

Absolutely Overwhelmed

Wednesday I go in for my first ultrasound monitoring at the IVF clinic. A very long drive for a most-likely-less-than-half-an-hour appointment. On the upside, I may get to see an old college friend for lunch on the way home, and meet her two kiddos. On the down side, the budget is tight this week and while Hubs gets paid on the weeks that I don't, he gets paid at the END of the week. Thankfully, one of my very closest friends (I shall refer to her by her nickname: Wifey) has agreed to loan me the funds, should the reimbursement check I am expecting from The Agency fail to arrive. It probably will. They're not very good at timely reimbursement. I submitted the information on the 8th. It's now the 18th.

Next Tuesday I get to do it all again, but this time I shall be meeting with the aforementioned college friend's sister; who is also an old college friend. This should be a little easier on the old wallet, so not as big a deal. But THEN! I get to go back down AGAIN next Friday, if everything looks good on Tuesday. For that one, I will require Hubs to accompany me. I'm fine on my own with the other two. And if Hubs can't go, I'll ask my other besty (to whom I will refer as Mama) or Wifey to go.

On top of that, we're moving at the end of next month. And I need to make sure that I somehow have the funds to do this. In the meantime, I need to get the house packed and cleaned and make sure everyone else has everything they need in the order in which they need it. I'd REALLY like to rent a Ryder or U-Haul this time. We have fabulous friends who have been wonderful about helping us move, but it would make life so much easier if we didn't have to make a million trips.

I still have to finish refinishing my table so that we have something to eat on when we move to wherever we're moving. (I put in an application at a place in the same "duplex" as one of Munchkin's best friends last week. The landlord said he had a good feeling about us and that he would respond to my application soon. Granted, three days is a short period of time, but I hate waiting.) Hubs made a couple calls today, as backup just in case. We'll stay on it either way. I need to get back to my hometown, at least for the sake of Munchkin's education.

Now, while the surrogacy money is helpful, I really do want to set some of it aside this time, so hopefully Hubs will find a teaching gig soon. I need him to find a teaching gig soon.

Additionally, there's unspeakable work stress going on right now. As it is unspeakable, I will not address it here. Suffice it to say that I look forward to the end of each workday and work week with mounting expectation as time passes.

Oh! And we have no hot water. We haven't had hot water in three days, and our landlord doesn't seem terribly pressed to take care of the problem. The furnace makes noises like someone is down in the basement banging on the pipes when we try to use the hot water. So that's fun. I boiled water this evening to wash all of the dishes, then used the dishwasher as a draining board. Much fun was had by all -shakes head sadly-

On a positive note: Yesterday was Princess Wiggle-Worm's first birthday! Happy Birthday, Princess Wiggle-Worm!

Preggers Again SOON!

I finally heard back from the IVF clinic on Thursday. I had been contacted by the mail-order pharmacy that sends out the hormones for IVF cycles for the clinic, and they were told they needed to get my meds to me by Friday, so that I could start my meds Friday evening at the latest. Since I hadn’t had any instructions or updates from the IVF clinic themselves, I called and left a message explaining that I had been contacted by the pharmacy but had no instructions. Fun.

The IVF doctor’s nurse called me back Thursday afternoon and wanted me to go have blood drawn to verify that the cycle I started on Thursday was a “true cycle.” But they wanted the results right away, and my local hospital’s fastest turnaround on blood tests is two days, since they send the blood to the big hospital for the actual testing. So I had to go to the big hospital. And Hubs had a dental appointment Friday morning, so I wound up just taking Friday off.

Anyway, I got blood drawn (holy CRAP was the girl good with that needle!) and puttered around for a while; picked up a pizza stone for Hubs for $7.00 and a new CD player for Munchkin, as the one her grandmother gave her when she was two years old finally croaked. Drove home, worked on the RP game I’m building for some old college buddies and a handful of others to play via Skype. (Yes, I’m a geek. This is no secret.)

I got the call from the IVF clinic late Friday afternoon verifying that yes, I was indeed undergoing a “true cycle” and so I should start taking my meds right away. So one little blue 2mg Estrace pill three times a day, and the Vivelle patch to be changed every fourth day. I’m scheduled for ultrasound monitoring at the IVF clinic on June 20^th and 26^th, and assuming everything looks good on the 26^th; I’ll have the embryo transfer on the June 29^th. Ha. Pregnant by the end of June. Not bad, considering I was expecting it to be more like May.

I’m also going insane a little bit. Again. Not nearly as bad as I was last time, though. I’m cranky. Some of it is legitimately situational, and some of it is batshit crazy hormone lady. I’ll get a handle on it, though, not to worry. No one will lose their heads over this.

Underinformed

I did get a very curt message back from the satellite IVF Clinic’s nurse:

“Good day. We are need to arrange finical details prior to proceeding.  Once the cycle is ready to proceed, you will be notified. Sincerely, [Nurse].”

I’m not even going to touch on the grammar and spelling. But honestly, I very sincerely hope that this isn’t how they treat women trying to get pregnant with their own children after who knows how much trial and tribulation. I did forward the response to the main IVF Clinic. The woman with whom I had been corresponding called to explain that the main Clinic only deals with fresh embryo cycles, so that’s why I’m dealing with the satellite Clinic instead, and that she was very sorry I felt blown off.

It’s been two weeks now. I haven’t heard a PEEP out of the satellite Clinic. What I HAVE heard is from I.F. who says he was told that the financial coordinator is waiting for the final prescriptions to come from the IVF doctor so that they can send the payment and schedule the cycle. Apparently he was told that this should go very quickly. Would be nice if they bothered to share this information with me, as I’m the one who’s going to be traveling for the transfer and carrying the baby to term.

I’m basically in frustration mode, generally speaking, lately. So maybe I’m overreacting to this. Suffice it to say that I have recent reason to truly appreciate the family and friends I have who make it clear by their actions that they do care about me, and on whom I can unfailingly count for support.

Legwork

Lacking the full medical details from the photos and report of the hysteroscopy, I understand that I have been cleared to proceed with surrogacy number two. What a fiasco it was to get the photos and report to the IVF clinic, though!

First the big hospital called me to ask how I wanted them to send the photos… To me. Um, sorry, I’m not driving 3+ hours, including traffic, to deliver what turned out to be only have of what the IVF clinic needed. I asked if they could scan and email the photos, and the nurse to whom I spoke said she would check and get back to me. Then the woman from the IVF clinic told me that often scanned images wind up being distorted, so would I please ask the big hospital to mail the photos. I did so. Then the woman from the IVF clinic emails me to ask about a report (which the nurse had originally told me did not exist.) We went back and forth on this a couple times, so I finally broke down and called the big hospital to ask that the report be faxed to the woman at the IVF clinic. I did not receive any notification that this had been done until the woman from the IVF clinic emailed to tell me that I was good to go for surrobaby number two, and that I should reach out to the IVF doctor’s nurse to get information on dates.

Ok people, seriously?! Why should I have to do all the legwork? Is it so much to expect that the doctors talk to each other?! The IVF clinic ordered the hysteroscopy in the first place. I didn’t have to sign any release of information forms. I was not harangued about confidentiality when I called to ask that the photos and report be send to the IVF clinic, so why couldn’t they make the call, themselves? Is it so much to expect that their nurses contact me without being prompted? Isn’t it their job to contact patients to schedule procedures and keep them abreast of their situations? I don’t remember being held responsible for nearly this much of the process last time. I had to call the pharmacy before I ran out of meds, and once I was given the go-ahead from the IVF doctor to transfer to a regular OB, I made those arrangements. I’m not really angry per se, but I am definitely annoyed.

I emailed the IVF doctor’s nurse this morning (I was indirectly provided her email address by the woman at the IVF clinic, who incidentally is working in a different city altogether). Haven’t heard back yet. -grumble-

Surgery Success

I woke up yesterday morning a bundle full of nerves, around 6:30. Stumbled out of bed and went into the guest room to check on the munckin's new kitten, played with him for a little while since she's at her grandpa's house for the remainder of this week, then shuffled down to the garage to procure a large piece of plywood to set at the top of the stairs so that kitten can run around the upstairs and not make contact with my stepdad's crotchety old cat. The older cat can't jump very well anymore, and the kitten is still too small to make it, so there's no risk of a tiff while the humanz iz away.

It turns out that when I'm nervous, I clean. And ramble on about stupid things. First off, my last surgery left me nauseous to the point of involuntary retching and more unpleasant things. So when the anesthesiologist at the big hospital looked at my chart, he noticed that I do not react well to waking up post-op. He offered me a spinal, but I told him that I'm wary about a spinal because epidurals only work on the left side of my body. He said spinals are different, but that it was fine; they have all kinds of new drugs to kill the nausea. I still have the scopolamine patch behind my ear, and the anesthesia aide gave me a shot of intravenous benadryl. It. Worked. Beauty.

I remember all of the pre-op waiting; the nurse was very good with the lidocaine to numb my hand before the IV went in. The doctor and a team of 3 residents, plus two OR nurses to assist, and I met all of them. Anyway, they wheeled me into the OR and helped me scoot onto a teeny-tiny table with what felt like leg-hammocks. They strapped leg massagers on, stuck electrodes all over me (I don't know why I had a big streak of iodine on the outside of my left thigh, but whatever. The anesthesia aide held a mask over my mouth and told me to breathe normally; I didn't even get to count backwards from ten; I was just out. When I woke up, I was in post-op on my right side (just the way I like to sleep. Seriously.) I looked around, didn't see anyone, noticed a distinct lack of nausea and decided to go back to sleep. I guess the doctor went out and told Hubs that the procedure was a success, and that one of the nurses would come get him when I had woken up, because they wanted to let me sleep.

After Hubs came in, the doctor showed us pictures of my uterus, which didn't make much sense to me at the time, so I just kind of smiled and nodded. What she DID tell me was that it looked as though I had been shedding scar tissue on my own, and that the remaining tissue pretty much came away when they filled my uterus with saline. She said she would send the pictures to the IVF clinic right away, and that she doesn't foresee any more delays being needed in this surrogacy cycle. There's no balloon or IUD in my uterus right now, so I guess she's really, really confident. Hopefully the doctor at the IVF clinic agrees.

When I got home, the kitten decided he couldn't bear to be without me, so he figured out how to climb up onto my bed so he could spend the greater part of the night alternately bathing himself and snuggling either tight up against me or ON me while he bathed, then fell asleep. I sincerely hope he does the same with the munchkin, or she's gonna be a very sad girl.

EEK

I have to admit that minor though next Wednesday's hysteroscopy may be; I’m still really nervous about it. Regardless of my size or health, I’ve always had exemplary reproductive bits. I feel somehow diminished because of this. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’m uneasy and stressed and nothing I do can really alleviate the problem.

The doctor has assured me that this procedure is so simple and so easy and that she’s done it enough times that she could do it with one hand tied behind her back (she promises not to, though). Even still, I hate, hate, HATE the fact that it’s necessary at all. I can handle the idea of having my guts cut open. I’ve had a cholesystectomy (I have no gall bladder). I’ve had my wisdom teeth pulled. I could handle having my tonsils removed; possibly even my spleen, if I had to. But this; it feels like they’re telling me that my identity is faulty.

I'm sure I'm being a drama queen. My dad tells me that I have enough insecurities. That it happens. That I've given birth to two children and all. His thought is that I'm "in remarkable health, reproductively, given the abuse [my] body has endured." I'm sure he has a point, and stuff. And I'm sure other stresses need to be factored in to my current mood.

Oh well. I'll get over it.

Surgery

Went to see the gynecological specialist at the Big Hospital today. She was reassuring, but said I definitely need to have a hysteroscopy, and made it clear that she wanted it to happen soon. She was friendly and outgoing, and I liked her immediately. She actually reminds me quite a bit of the doctor who delivered Wiggle-Worm. She gave me a pelvic exam (which I think made hubs a little uncomfortable, as I told him to stay in the room with me. He stood up by my head) but said she was comfortable going on the ultrasound results from the fertility clinic, and I therefore wouldn't have to have another hystriosonogramthingyofdoom.

So I have surgery scheduled for April 25. I'm sure the big boss lady is less than excited about this, as we have fieldwork scheduled for that week. Honestly, though; this is something bigger than just prepping for another surrogacy. This is something I would need to have done regardless. The doctor says I need it. My immediate supervisor has given me her blessing, so that's that.

On the subject of my new boss: I'd like to say that so far, she's turning out to be just as easy to get along with as my former boss. Old Boss Lady was friendly and a little aggressive, but not offensive. We had a lot of fun picking on each other on long car rides (and, admittedly, in the office) and we laughed a lot. New Boss Lady is quieter, but just as friendly and just as willing to laugh. Now, I realize that they aren't there to be my friend. They're there to be my supervisor and to make sure I'm doing my job and doing it well. But I know my job. I do my job well anyway. So there's a little bit of room to be friends, and that makes the job so much more pleasant.

Also: I've lost a total of six pounds so far, between watching my calories and exercising. I think I may have gained a little bit back this week, due to a little caloric overindulgence and a bit less exercise than usual. I was wiped out when we got back from the Big Hospital today, so I skipped the usual extra-eleven-mile bike ride and 90-minute hot yoga class I do on Wednesdays. I've been practically religious about exercise and diet, though; so a slip-up here and there can be forgiven, I think. If nothing else, I can always do the biking and yoga on Friday if I feel up to it. I just might do that. Or do some riding this weekend. We'll see.

Anyway, back on topic: The doctor says that even if she has to do some major cutting where the scarring is concerned, she's confident that an estrogen regimen, followed by a reintroduction of progesterone and estrogen together, and then a reintroduction to birth control pills should put me right. Now, depending on how much cutting she needs to do, I may wind up with what amounts to a balloon in my uterus for up to 5 days post-op, or I may be able to get away with a copper IUD (intrauterine device; it's a T-shaped piece of plastic wound up in copper, usually used as a birth control method. I had a plastic IUD with low level hormones from 2005-2010. Fabulous thing.) The intent is to prevent the interior of my uterus healing and therefore fusing itself to another part of my uterus. These are things I can live with.

The doctor also reassured me that this shouldn't put me more than a month behind our original schedule, so that should put I.F. and the agency at their ease. And while this is nice, it really did me good to hear it. Regardless of the surrogacy (sorry, I.F.) the idea of not being able to have any more babies of my own scared the bejesus out of me.

And yes Hubs: you were right. Again. As usual.

Scary Words

Phrases like “scarring” and “possible uterine adhesion” and “hysteroscopy” are very scary when you’ve never heard them before, and the only explanation you get is from your own online research. Sometimes I think professionals in the medical field get so desensitized to their own terminology that it doesn’t occur to them that big phrases like the ones above can freak the hell out of a layperson. Like me.

The results of the test that was performed at our screening at the IVF clinic (during which they pumped my uterus full of saline solution so they could do an internal ultrasound) showed that I have a band of scar tissue at the top, front, left sector of my uterus; where Wiggle-Worm’s placenta was attached. I shared with them (because the big hospital neglected to) that the obstetrician who delivered Wiggle Worm went in and manually scraped the placenta out, and that’s likely what caused it. (In retrospect, this rather disturbs me, as they really didn’t wait at all to see if it would detach on its own so I could push it out myself.)

I was informed via email that this was the case, and that the doctor wanted me to get a hysteroscopy because he was concerned that there might be some adhesion. No statements of reassurance; no explanations, no nothing. So of course I went looking for definitions, indications, etc. on the interwebs.

About.com gives this information on uterine adhesions:

“Intrauterine adhesions can be asymptomatic and of no clinical significance. Symptoms associated with clinically significant intrauterine adhesions include:

- Infertility
- Menstrual irregularities (hypomenorrhea, amenorrhea)
- Cyclic pelvic pain
-Recurrent pregnancy loss.

Infertility is the most common reason patients present for evaluation: 43 percent of women with intrauterine adhesions have some degree of infertility. Menstrual irregularities are also a common presentation; however, the extent of adhesions seen on hysteroscopy does not correlate well with degree of menstrual irregularity and nearly 40 percent of patients with adhesions documented on hysteroscopy report no menstrual irregularities.”

WebMD gives the following information regarding hysteroscopy:

“Hysteroscopy is a diagnostic and surgical procedure that makes examining the inside of the uterus possible without making an abdominal cut (incision). During hysteroscopy, a lighted viewing instrument called a hysteroscope is inserted through the vagina and cervix and into the uterus. Treatment can also be done through the hysteroscope during the same procedure.
Hysteroscopy usually takes 30 to 45 minutes and is done as an outpatient procedure. General anesthesia is usually used, although local or spinal anesthesia can be used instead. You should not eat or drink for at least 4 to 8 hours before having the test. A gynecologist or surgeon performs the procedure.”


Okay, so my brain read “infertility” and “recurrent pregnancy loss” and “general anesthesia” and kinda sorta flipped out. I have never had anything but PERFECT reproductive health. I’ve had surgical procedures and an IUD and nothing ever messed with my bits, but now I have scarring on the inside of my uterus that could prevent me from ever having kids again, and the doctors want to put me out so they can inspect my womb with cameras, and on top of all that, The Agency wants me to try to get this paid through my insurance and I’m just supposed to smile and hop about without a care in the world?! I don’t think so!

So I emailed the woman from the IVF clinic who initially informed me about all this, and told her that I was flipping out; that I’d been near tears for almost two days over the whole thing, and I thought it was really insensitive of The Agency to make me do all the legwork in light of what I had just been told, and please, PLEASE tell me if I was overreacting, because I was having a really hard time holding it together.

I should point out that it’s not easy to make me cry, as a rule. I tend to take things as they come and deal with them. I holler sometimes. I worry occasionally. But I rarely actually cry. Just to give you a little perspective on the nature of my assumptions here.

Within half an hour of emailing the lady at the clinic, she had called me personally. She told me that sometimes it’s easy for them to just breeze through stuff like this without realizing the kind of effect it can have on people who don’t do fertility medicine as a profession. She told me that the doctor isn’t operating under the impression that there’s anything so significantly wrong with me that it would stop the surrogacy process, let alone prevent me from being able to have children later on. He just wants to make sure he knows everything that’s going on, and to be 100% certain that the scar tissue ISN’T going to pose a problem for me or for a baby.

BIG, DEEP SIGH OF RELIEF HERE.

Hubs and I had a phone conference with the social worker at the IVF clinic last night. We realize that it’s part of the process, no matter how many times we’ve done surrogacy, but at the same time, it would have been a lot easier to just fill out a questionnaire or something. Yeesh.

Screenings 2.0

Hubs and I went down to the fertility clinic on Friday, to be screened for surrogate pregnancy number two. The testing was easy; their phlebotomist gives really good needle, and the PA-C I saw for the sonohystogram was very gentle. Last time, having my uterus pumped full of saline solution was rather painful. Of course, this time I was also instructed to take 600mg of ibuprofen an hour before testing, which I did. I assume this also helped.

I talked with the head nurse about meds and learned that, assuming all of our tests come out well, I should start my hormone regimens fairly quickly. Because this is a frozen cycle instead of fresh (meaning I don’t have to sync my body up with an egg donor), the transfer date will be 16-20 days after I start meds. My guess is that this will happen in late April, early May.

After testing, we had a lovely lunch at the same restaurant IF took us to when we did testing for Wiggle-Worm. The food was delicious and despite the fact that I ate FAR more than I usually do, I still had a “B” from my phone’s calorie count application at the end of the day. We had a leisurely ride home; taking several detours along the way; stopped off in West Lebanon to pick up a couple books; got “The Walking Dead” issue fifteen for Hubs and “The Hunger Games” for Munchkin, who has been clamoring for it for almost a month now.

We dropped the book off to Munchkin at my dad’s house, then toodled up to a restaurant/pub our friends have been visiting for several months now. The food was delicious, and we got to try a new kind of Woodchuck, of which Hubs has become quite fond. It’s called Belgian White. It’s made with orange and coriander. Very good stuff. I got some excellent pulled pork and discovered that sweet potato fries; my very favorite fries on the planet; are NOT on the no-no list! WHEE!

We were going to go bowling with the friends who recommended this restaurant after dinner, but it turned out the bowling alley was packed, so instead we stopped off at their house and dropped off some books that Hubs had read for the Green Mountain Book Award Committee. Our lovely little friend ran a 10K race on Saturday, so she needed to get sleep, but her other half was working in town and they’re a one-car-couple at the moment. So I got to drive her brand-spanky new car into town!!! I guess I know what I’m getting once my car is paid off!

The rest of the evening was quiet and included much snuggling and appreciating the wonderful day we got to spend together.

The weekend was project-time. I finished rebuilding my mother’s couch, finished stripping and sanding the old family bench that goes with the table that’s not yet done being stripped at my dad’s house. Gave it a first coat of stain, too. It’s going to look lovely. Sunday I re-mounted the bedroom blinds in the windows instead of using the cheap plastic brackets that kept falling apart. I’m considering getting some kind of translucent contact paper or other frosting agent to cover Hubs’ window in his Shame Closet and maybe the big window in the bedroom too. That way I can open the blinds and still get plenty of light, but not have to be seen by the neighbors. Anyway. I cleaned the bedroom and washed the windows while playing my own personal “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” marathon on Netflix. –nerd-

FED UP.

Ok, I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m sick and tired of being fat and saying I’m going to do something about it and then falling off the wagon moments later.

I have done the numbers and come to the realization that if I bust my hump and really stick to it, I can SAFELY get to my goal size in 7 months. “Less than a year,” says I, “that’s no time at all!” And if I’m good at nothing else, I am good at working hard. If I look at this as a project, I can do it.

I’ve therefore recruited some friends to help me stay on track, and will begin biking in to work every day, starting tomorrow. No excuses. I will pack up the necessary bathroom items so I can shower when I get to work. I will set my alarm a half hour earlier so I can snooze and snuggle hubs and not feel like I’m losing out on that time. I will reduce my portions at meals. I will not give in to “the easy route” when I’m hungry. I have already downloaded a calorie counter for my phone, and will not exceed 2400 calories per day. I will go to yoga classes again (thank you, gaming group, for that gift certificate, by the way!) I will learn to run. When I can’t get outside to exercise, I will do pilates or aerobics inside (I’ve discovered both on Netflix, and my yoga friend gave me a yoga mat, so no more excuses there.)

It’s time. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate looking at pictures of myself in high school and college. I want to look the way I used to. And I will.

I.
AM.
DETERMINED.

And nothing stops me when I am determined. NOTHING.

Doom? No Doom?

Well now, things seem like they might actually move along after all! Not just in surro-land but in general. I was starting to think that perhaps the Mayans were right, and this year was the year we all found ourselves doomed. Every time I thought we were getting ahead and making plans and taking steps forward, something would come along and clothesline me in the face with a two-by-four. I daresay the bruises were starting to show.

Interesting the things that laying flat on your back with a proverbial egg swelling on your brow will make you think, though.

Anyway, our illustrious IVF physician has decided that because Wiggle Worm has a little dimple at the very bottom of her back, it could possibly, maybe, theoretically suggest that there may have at one moment in time been the slightest, remotest chance that she could have been possibly, maybe prone to the mildest, minutest hint of spina bifida. Maybe. Possibly. So I’ve been prescribed 5mg of folic acid per day, starting as soon as it arrives. Honestly, this doesn’t bother me in the slightest; I.F. is paying through the nose to have every chance at the healthiest baby possible. I just think it’s funny that a dimple above someone’s butt is a concern. I’m probably a horrible person or something. But I digress. The point of this was to state that the pharmacy that the IVF clinic uses wanted $44 for a month’s worth of these pills. I talked to I.F. and decided I’d check into the cost of 5mg of folic acid every day for a month through WalMart. $17. Before insurance. Evil as major corporations are, I can see why people use them. Fortunately I.F. found a way to get the supplements for free, so neither of us have to pay a cent for them.

Hubs has an interview a week from tomorrow for a real, live teaching gig about two hours north of our current home, for the 2012-2013 school year. In his field and everything. A couple of my uncles have suggested that he take a deck of cards up and ask for ten minutes of the interviewers’ time, to teach them to play Pitch with 9’s and 5’s. It’s an old family game, and hubs is VERY efficient at teaching people to play it. He taught the munchkin to play months ago, for about ten minutes, then she never picked the cards up again till this past weekend, where she very quickly STOMPED me and my grandmother.

So if he gets the job, we’ll be moving to the same general vicinity as munchkin’s father. I’ll have to commute to work, but there are several people in my building who ride down from that area, so it won’t be a problem getting in. And the ex gets out of work before school lets out for the day, so he and munchkin could see each other every day for a couple hours till hubs and I got home from work.

And my nursing school plans may yet come to pass as well. If hubs gets this job, we’ll have health insurance coverage and a proper income, which is the biggest thing. Assuming he does indeed get the job, I can spend this pregnancy looking up grants and scholarships for school, and get all the paperwork lined up and done in advance, so the financial burden of school won’t be much of a burden at all. Once this baby is delivered, I can apply to schools for the following fall semester, submit my scholarship and grant applications, and if accepted, I can give my current job plenty of notice that I’m leaving. I can work evenings while I go to school to help pay the bills. Depending on what kind of scholarship and grant info I find, I can choose between a technical school where I could get my associates in nursing, take the NCLEX-RN and then get a job, and take RN-to-BSN classes through my job. Or if the package I find is good enough, I could do a four-year program, then do midwifery school and start my practice after that. Food for thought.

But I’ve rambled on long enough now, and I should shut up.

Contractions

The agency sent me a draft copy of this surrogacy's contract yesterday. I read it on my new phone which was novel, but admittedly a bigger pain in the tuckus than it would have been on the computer. I won't bother with the details; it was basically the same as the last one, except this time we're opting out of legal counsel for the creation of the contract, because it's basically the same as the last one.

Last time we did this I was all a-dither, waiting anxiously for the next step and getting badly impatient with everything I saw as an obstacle. This time, I'm pleased to do it again, but I have a better sense of how things work, I think. I realize that the IVF clinic has many more patients than just me; that the agency is dealing with lots of different people in lots of different situations in lots of different stages of the process; that there are processes involved in each step that must be carefully followed to ensure everyone's protection.

Holy crap, I've grown up!

Ideally I'll be pregnant by May, but I'm not going to get all worked up if I'm not. It'll happen when it happens. Besides, I've got tons of other crap to deal with before then anyway.

I had to send a copy of the contract to my employer's HR department too. Of course, I already know what it's for so I just did the same thing I did last time: redact, redact, redact. They don't really need to know the dollar amounts, and they certainly don't need to know IF's name or address. I got the Big-Boss-Man's blessing a couple weeks ago, so as far as my job is concerned, I'm good to go. Personally I still don't see why they need to know about it at all, but ah well; such is bureaucracy.

So once the contract makes its way back to the agency, I just have to wait to go down to the clinic to get tested. Then back to the dino-shots (leuprolide, which my friend misread as liopleurodon, hence "dino-shots") then on to the embryo transfer. This time I don't have to sync up with a donor; we's usin' babysicles! HA! But seriously, I'm told that I.F. is in discussions with the IVF clinic about the timing of thawing the embryos for transfer.

And I think that's about it for now. I'll post more as things happen. :)

Round 2?

I got an email from the fertility clinic yesterday, informing me that they are going through the embryo thawing process with Wiggle-Worm's father, and that they will be contacting me soon to schedule testing for me and for hubs. We don't have to run the full gamut again; just blood tests and UA's and a quick chat with the social worker. I'm already on the same brand of birth control pills the clinic had me on at the beginning of last cycle, and I have a pelvic exam scheduled with my GYN for next week.

I am SOOOOOOOOOO glad we don't have to sync up with the egg donor again. I have come to the conclusion that those hormones make me flat-out insane. Last summer, after I started taking my dino-shots (leuprolide), hubs was invited by his local best friend (whose name has become "Other Wife" as far as I am concerned, and therefore I shall refer to him here as such) to spend a week down south with a group of friends. He went, with my blessing.

Or so I thought.

While he was gone, I underwent some strange and, I must admit, strenuous mental gymnastics, and somehow blamed Other Wife for taking my husband away from me. I hated him and wished for his death (not really; it just sounds good) for some time thereafter. We have long-since resolved this issue, and have learned that while I am on hormones for getting pregnant, hubs is not allowed to leave the state. For any reason.

All seems to be going well as far as moving along; my employer has dealt with surrogacy now, so there won't be so many hang-ups in communicating what's expected. So that's good.

Ladies & gentlemen, we are back!